admin
Elliot Ziwira At the Bookstore
“THIS business of womanhood is a heavy burden,” whines novelist, playwright and filmmaker, Tsitsi Dangarembga, as she explores how women struggle to keep their heads up in the stormy waters of a patriarchal world.
Over eons of burdensome existence, women have managed to make their feelings understood, even to a somewhat impenetrable society. They have since realised that a story does not die because it is not told, but dies if it is told to deaf ears.
It is the heart that listens.
Indeed, it is taxing to be a woman when everything seems to be skewed in her disfavour. As a member of the fairer sex, she is alienated from her community, which expects her to lick its wounds, while spewing in her open palms.
Of all other forms of caging she has to endure, motherhood stands out clean. It is a kind of imprisonment that a woman finds herself trapped in as she juggles between societal expectation and individual satiation.
The tug of war between societal expectations and individual aspirations pits her at the deep end. Also, the whirlwind that swirls at the marital base as a culmination of patriarchal pressure rocks her.
Nonetheless, instead of sinking, as society expects, her motherly instincts refuse to be suffocated. She is all too aware that she will not only be letting herself down, but her sex and offspring as well.
As a product of the history of femininity, she knows society will never give her an ear if she shouts; and that screaming is an indication of defeat. So, she finds a vent out of her predicament through song.
She is all too aware that music is neither provocative nor defeatist, for it tells a tale in many ways through its evocation of the sensuous neurons. It appeals to the heart.
Since the beginning of time, women have managed to keep their heads above the rising tornadoes of their existence through music.
It is against this backdrop that the reading of Joyce Jenje Makwenda’s timeless book, “Women Musicians of Zimbabwe: A Celebration of Women’s Struggle for Voice and Artistic Expression: 1930s-2013”, becomes apt.
The book is not only evocative and refreshing, but it is also informative and historically appropriate since it captures more than 75 years of the musical expression of women’s travails.
Historically, it taps into folklore, which has always been used to express feelings, impart on societal mores and values from generation to generation, and instil a sense of responsibility.
The storyteller, who was usually a woman past childbearing age (Hove, 2002), effectively engrossed her young audience through song as a preclude and throughout the story.
Music was not only used as a parenting and educational tool, but it was “used to alleviate stress and make tasks simpler” too.
It helped women cope with their daily tribulations, and question the injustices pervading their lives.
A woman could express her sexual drought or disaffection to her husband’s relatives through song.
That way, women’s problems were always solved amicably.
Jenje Makwenda, who is an archivist-historian, researcher, author, producer, lecturer and ethnomusicologist, combines entertainment and didacticism to explore the historical link between music and the struggle against colonialism.
In addition, she highlights the role women played and still play for the emancipation and freedom of the feeble and vulnerable.
This struggle is also evident in her other book, “Zimbabwe Township Music” (2005).
The struggle against colonial subjugation, displacement and Western hegemony cannot be complete without reference to the names Lozikeyi Dlodlo, Lobengula’s first wife, and Nehanda Nyakasikana, the heroines of the First Chimurenga, who inspired the liberation war which gave birth to independent Zimbabwe.
Making reference to Clarke (2006), Jenje Makwenda writes: “Like with the Zanla forces (mainly Shona) were inspired by Nehanda, the Zipra forces were also inspired by Lozikeyi’s spirit; she inspired her people to lay down the pen and pick up the guns again.”
Colonialism robbed women of their expressive voice, through song and dance, by outlining what is considered moral or immoral.
African traditional dances, like Mbende (Jerusalem), which expresses fertility, regeneration and vitality, were considered sexually provocative and barbaric.
Expression of sexual dissatisfaction on the part of women was said to be unChristian, while playing the drum and mbira, especially by women, was also seen as barbaric and unChristian.
Thus, women’s prominent musical vent of escape was closed.
Today’s couples, therefore, find it difficult to talk about intimate issues, not only to their relatives, but within the confines of their own bedrooms.
It is this that the writer pokes at through her exploration of the essence of music.
The informative book takes the reader on a voyage of intrigue and novelty of horizons through well-researched topics on women, who shaped and continue to chisel the musical landscape of the Motherland.
The 1930s belonged to Laina Mattaka and Evelyn Juba, who “were reported as the pioneers of township jazz music by the African Daily News”. Their music was a fusion of negro spirituals, gospel and traditional music.
The 1940s and 50s saw the rise of Reni Nyamundanda and the De Black Evening Follies, Faith Dauti with the Milton Brothers and the Gay Gaieties, and Dorothy Masuka.
Dorothy Masuka rode on the crest of a new wave of expansion and investment in the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland, which created opportunities for entertainment.
Township music suffered a temporary glitch in the 1960s and 70s, which saw new genres of music dominating.
Susan Chenjerai and Susan Mapfumo rose to prominence around this period.
The liberation struggle inspired songstresses like The Two Singing Nuns, the Chataika Sisters, who sang mostly gospel songs with their brother, Jordan, and Virginia Sillah.
As the flame of independence illuminated the airwaves in 1980, more opportunities opened up for musical expression; and women rose to the occasion.
Traditional instruments, like the mbira and ngoma, were on a rebound, with the likes of Beaulah Dyoko, Stella Chiweshe, Elizabeth Ncube, Francisca Muchena, Irene Chigamba, Taruwona Mushore and Chiwoniso Maraire, taking mbira music to the international stage.
Shuvai Wutaunashe made her mark in the 1980s when gospel music began to be appreciated.
Busi Ncube and Rozalla Miller, the Queen of Rave, of the “Everyone is Free” fame, became household names around this period.
Township jazz bounced back around this period. Its flame continues to glow in the hands of Prudence Katomeni-Mbofana, Dudu Manhenga, Patience Musa, Rute Mbangwa, Nomsa Mhlanga and Hope Masike.
Jenje Makwenda echoes how independence revolutionarised the airwaves to create space for local artistes.
She notes how urban grooves, popularised by Memory Zaranyika, Plaxedes Wenyika, Betty Makaya, Pauline Gundidza, Portia Njazi aka Tia, Tambudzayi Hwaramba and Kudzai Sevenzo, benefitted from the Government’s 75 percent local content directive to radio stations.
She cites Selmor Mtukudzi, one of the beneficiaries of the initiative, who says: “The 75 percent introduced by Professor Jonathan Moyo meant that we could get to listen to my music, people would get to hear of me, even though I hadn’t recorded.
“Then it gave me hope that in the event that I want to record and do something, I would have a listenership, because then our music was not played much. We used to hear musicians like Beyonce and everyone else, but ours was not played.”
Although the Government’s directive is commendable, and society has been forthcoming in giving an ear to women’s plight highlighted through music, a lot still needs to be done for that musical appreciation to be fully articulated.
The music industry still remains the preserve for men, to a greater extent, because of stereotypical inclinations steeped in patriarchal societies.
Female musicians do not only suffer financial barricades, but are considered morally bankrupt.
A woman may rise to the apex before she marries. However, once matrimony comes in, her decline becomes inevitable.
The challenges that come with wifehood and motherhood may be harmful to her career.
In the end, the anguish and oppression of her ilk will continue unabated, as the voice that should come to their defence is stifled.
Laina Gumboreshumba, whose musical career started at an early age, and was working on a Doctor of Philosophy Degree (PhD) in Music at Rhodes University at the time, says: “I think the demands of a musical career and the demands of marriage for a woman as expected by the husband and the society at large clash.
“As a result, many men are not comfortable with their wives tackling the heavy schedule and working odd hours. The demands of the family weigh down on the woman and in the end, she has to make a choice and drop the other.”
Social, political and economic challenges burdening the “business of womanhood” need a platform upon which they can be exposed, as the victims’ voices are gagged through designs fashioned by both culture and religion.
It is this state of affairs that Joyce Jenje Makwenda slates in “Women Musicians of Zimbabwe: A Celebration of Women’s Struggle for Voice and Artistic Expression: 1930s-2013”, as she takes to the dancefloor in celebration of womanhood.
It is, indeed, an evocative, informative and captivating read.
Online Reporter