A situation close to the massacre... It was on a koppie where miners were united through song for a struggle of their own and families. It did not only remind me of the bloody scene but how African we are and that Africa lives in us. The music, rhythm and the beat all entrenched in the heart tied to the soul.
It was one afternoon near the mountains of Free State. Situated a few kilometres from the town of Bloemfontein [army mobilisation centre], a group of young men seated on what seemed to be a man-made koppie. A young black man aged between 18 to 22, medium in stature, with dark lips and bald head. He was wearing a white t-shirt with a black and white face print of Bob Marley.
Silent as the atmosphere was, one could hear the feet of those passing by rhythmically hitting the ground step by step. With the dust hovering a metre away from the ground, the sun was safely dancing behind the greyish clouds - that meant a chilled afternoon for the gents. One gentleman in a low tone started humming a song.
The melody resounding in the voice box just in the neck area awoke the Africaness that stood under the greyish clouds. Another gentleman jumped on the melodic boat. He started backing the melody in a bass tone. In less than 3 verses, over 10 people had hopped in the melodic boat. "Mama we mama we maaa!" In an alto tone, a voice erupted from the group of men. As if it was rehearsed, it was seconded by a deep "Wee maa!" The song gained momentum, the rest of the group joined. The voices hovered in the atmosphere accompanied by rhythmic claps. The leader of the song was frightened by what the song was becoming. It was not just a song, it was squeezing out the Africanness in everyone. It was increasingly becoming uncontrollable but emotive. Whistling and ululating came into the picture.
The leader of the song became even worried. The group was told to just sit there, make no movements and be quiet. He tried tone it down, like a good driver of a vehicle, he managed until the group turned into a mode of silence.
Expecting a new song, they looked at the leader and he did not seem keen to drive the group again. "Ah Bob Marley! You take us this high and leave us hanging like this?" One gentleman from the group exclaimed. "Ingoma emnand i'yaphindwa - masiye Bob Marley," another reminded. The rhythmic claps started without a melody. Seeking approval from the superior, "Bob Marley" looked at the group's superior who nodded in approval. "Mama we mama we maaa!" The song with a huge backing erupted.
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