DURBAN - Musician Oliver Mtukudzi, who died this week at the age of 66, was a great cultural ambassador for Zimbabwe.
Known to his fans as Tuku, he was a cultural icon for his country. His aura and presence had a resonance with fans around the world, yet the man remained humble and magnanimous.
I once boasted to some international colleagues that he was Zimbabwe’s gift to the world. But on closer scrutiny, he was the perfect gift for Zimbabweans, especially during their tumultuous times.
Mtukudzi died in Harare after a long battle with diabetes, ironically enough on exactly the same day as his friend, the musician Hugh Masekela, who passed away on January 23, 2018.
He was also a businessperson, activist, philanthropist and a goodwill ambassador for Unicef (UN Children’s Fund) in southern Africa.
But it was his innovative music that made him deeply loved. Dubbed “Tuku music”, it was a blend of southern African music traditions, including mbira, mbaqanga, jit and the traditional drumming styles of the Korekore.
Tuku released his debut single in 1975. As a solo artist, he had his first successes shortly after Zimbabwe declared its independence in 1980.
His debut solo album was Africa, and he released his 67th album in 2018 - Hanya’Ga (Concern) - saying it was “meant to share a message of introspecting and I’m hoping people learn a thing or two from it”.
Celebrated as “the man with the talking guitar”, Mtukudzi learned by experimenting: “I looked for a sound the guitar couldn’t make - that is how I learned to play the guitar.”
“Professional guitarists at the time use to laugh at me. I used to look for an mbira (music instrument) on the guitar strings. I’ve always been experimental. But it was a blessing in disguise because I went on to pioneer a sound that was later labelled ‘Tuku music’.”
But Mtukudzi was more than just a popular singer. In Todii (What Shall We Do?), he reflects on the challenge faced by communities as a result of HIV/Aids. The song gives cadence and sympathy to those who provide care.
At the same time, it magnifies how despicable those in positions of authority are for violating their responsibility.
He ends the song with a solemn appeal for help and for ideas in view of this challenge. This is Mtukudzi, the social activist.
In another song, Mabasa (The Works), Mtukudzi paints a dire picture of how young people are the first to die, leaving the elderly to fend for themselves.
For me, this song attests to Mtukudzi reminding us all to be cognisant about how we live.
He also acknowledged the existence of a deity and spoke against the attribution of success to luck or happenstance in songs such as Raki (Luck).
Conversely, in Ndagarwa Nhaka (Inheriting), he brought attention to a Shona cultural practice of a widow being married off to her late husband’s elder or younger brother.
A stark contrast, though, is found in the movie Neria. Mtukudzi crafted the soundtrack detailing the tribulations of a widow trying to survive past patriarchy in all its forms.
Some of Mtukudzi’s songs were sources of contention and deemed anti-establishment. For instance Wasakara (You Are Old) was interpreted by some as a reference to former president Robert Mugabe, given that a character in the song was in denial of age creeping up on him. In later years, as a consultant, I would use the song to drive home the importance of succession-planning for effectual and efficient organisations.
Mtukudzi continued to give the same admonition to the elderly in the song Mkuru Mkuru (The Elderly Leader).
The most important question we should ask in everything we do, Mtukudzi argued, was: What will be the end of this that I am doing?
In the song Kunze Kwadoka (The Sun Has Set, It’s Dark), Mtukudzi presents the questioning parent and the precarious situation of a child who has stayed out on a date for a long time. It gives advice to the boyfriend: “perekedza mwanasikana, perekedza bhebhi iro zuva ravira kunze kwadoka” translated as “accompany the girl, accompany that babe, the sun has set, it’s dark out”.
Now the sun has set on Oliver Mtukudzi. He leaves the world his greatest prized possession, the gift of song.
Thank you, maestro par excellence. The Conversation
Chinyamurindi is an associate professor, University of Fort Hare. He is an avid narrative researcher. This piece was written using Oliver Mtukudzi’s Greatest Hits album - The Tuku Years (1998-2002).