TANZANIA: IT was December 16, 2024, deep within the heart of Dodoma, the seat of our power and a great proclamation was announced.
In walked Professor Palamagamba Kabudi, the newly minted minister for Information, Culture, Arts and Sports, ready to address the crowd that gathered to welcome him at his new office.
Wasting no time delivering sage wisdom, the towering Prof in his baritone declared that the world must be aware that makonde carvings and tingatinga paintings originate from Tanzania. gulps!
However, that was not the end of his grand scheme. no, no. Prof Kabudi had another trick up his sleeve — singeli music. more gulps!
He announced, with the solemnity of a man ready to reveal a secret weapon, that the government was also prepared to make singeli an international phenomenon.
Soon, said the Prof, from the dance halls of Brazil to the streets of Mumbai, people might be bouncing to the rapid-fire beats of singeli, shaking their heads in admiration (or abject confusion at the tempo).
Like a preacher spreading the gospel, Prof Kabudi sent waves of excitement throughout the singeli community and beyond.
Festival highlights and artists that rock out on stage are a plenty, but it’s not just the producers but also the artists and even those guys randomly yelling “Singeli ndio mpango mzima!” in dala-dalas who felt the call.
And all the seasoned singeli artist and producer Mushizo had to say was: “it’s go time!”
“Prof Kabudi is a big name in our arts sector. If he is perceiving singeli using his third eye, this should wake us, the artists, up and make us serious.
“This is our moment to shine. But first — government, let’s talk investments,” Mushizo said, likely pounding his studio desk for emphasis.
Four-time TMA award winner and singeli maestro Dulla Makabila rightfully upped the ante, declaring singeli as Tanzania’s golden ticket to international music awards.
“This is huge! Thank you for the recognition. Singeli is a part of Tanzanian culture. it’s our identity. The issue here is that some people are happy jumping on other country’s music genres than to help our own.
“The government should support the actual singeli artists first rather than letting outsiders take over, you know what I mean?” said Makabila, every inch like a man prepared to defend singeli at the cost of his life.
Imo, also from the singeli group wamoto (the hot ones), which comprises two brave female artists — Suzibaby and herself — said she was pure happiness.
“This (Kabudi) statement means a lot to us because finally someone in power is seeing singeli the way we see it…
“Singeli is banging outside Tanzania right now and some of the other genres are just chilling. if we had more support — maybe some loans, some grants — we could take singeli further,” she said, likely already imagining singeli concerts in paris.
For those of you who are still asking where this singeli came from? Here’s a short history lesson.
Singeli has its roots in the dusty and overpopulated suburbs of Dar es salaam, places like Tandale kwa Mtogole, Tandika Mikoroshini, Yombo vituka, Vingunguti and others.
It’s a brilliant blend of three musical forms — traditional drumming, lightning-speed taarab and dancing rhythms that even the sternest uncle at a wedding can be seen shaking to.
Some trust that the Zaramo, folks who’ve made dar es salaam and Pwani their home for centuries, have a big hand in shaping the genre. but that is another day’s story altogether…
In the early 2000s singeli was a modest street sound, playing at full volume through the speakers of vigodoro, khanga moko (block parties) in Mwananyamala, Manzese and Tandale.
Women danced, men cheered them on and soon enough singeli had enveloped everything.
Enter Msaga sumu, one of the founding fathers of singeli. hits including “mwanaume mashine” and “unanitega shemeji” elevated the genre from the streets to the national stage.
Another pioneer, Man Fongo of the “hainaga ushemeji,” and “chungu tamu” fame and many other street anthems, also shares the credits as one of the singeli masters whose contributions are immense.
But still, singeli has been eyed suspiciously for years, dubbed everything from music ya uswahilini to noisy madness.
Some even argued that singeli wasn’t “real” music, just guys speaking really fast over beats that sound like a chase scene in an action movie.
But then came 2015 and bam! This pound-the table trend in music that is singeli is an unstoppable force, announced the BBC. Yes. The British Broadcasting Corporation…
What other endorsement can one ask for?
From village weddings to government rallies, radio and Tv commercials to election campaigns — if there’s a Tanzanian event and singeli hasn’t been played, was it an event?
Singeli isn’t merely a genre — it’s a money making opportunity.
As the Maasai have made the most of cultural tourism and the Makonde have crafted an attraction around their heritage, so can singeli become a force in Tanzania’s creative economy.
Surely, with sufficient investment, singeli can create jobs, churn up government revenue and place Tanzania on the map when it comes to world music, as well as allowing Kiswahili to aspire to join the ranks of internationally popular street music languages.
The real question here is, is singeli a real bad influence or simply misunderstood?
Well, before I pen down let me dwell on some singeli riots and a choir of complainers.
Whenever singeli comes up for discussion, there’s always a segment of society clutching their pearls.
They claim that the high-energy dance moves — baikoko, chura, kangamoko — are a moral crisis in the making.
Some argue that singeli is a bad influence on the youth and society at large, while others fear it is simply too torrid.
But let’s be honest — moral panic is ancient.
Take Jazz, then Rock & roll, then Hip hop, Amapiano and freak out about how is this singeli, made in Tz, is going to ruin music for everyone!
I mean, if you’ve been anywhere near the internet over the past few days you will have heard some self-designated musical authorities proclaiming that singeli was a national catastrophe — just like potholes and power cuts.
If they bothered to do even some five minutes of research, they’d know that bongo fleva was once the “problem child” of Tanzanian music and got the same ridicule that singeli is facing now.
And yet bongo fleva progressed, thrived, and now has a prime position on international rosters.
And should our beloved pundits ever find themselves momentarily choking on their words when singeli whisks home for tanzania its first grammy, let’s hope someone plays their own speeches back to them — on loop, with full volume, inside a nyama choma joint, full of hardcore singeli-dancing fans who would gladly give them a “free lecture.”
Next time, darling haters, bring the facts, not just the noise.
Make no mistake: singeli is the most Tanzanian big thing since a hot plate of ugali and dagaa or ndondo. It is unrefined, furious, unkempt and unabashedly streetwise.
And you know what? That’s the magic of it! It uses the vernacular of the people. Many people even make a living off of it, despite some turning their noses up at it.
There’s room enough in the world for all the genres. So let singeli be singeli, get people to shake. And if you don’t like it, hamna shida — your mute button still works. Singeli could, with proper investment, be Tanzania’s next big export, alongside Kilimanjaro, Zanzibar beaches and Serengeti safaris.
So, if you haven’t already, hop on the singeli train. It’s speedy, it’s exciting, and once you jump on, there’s no getting off.
Just ask professor Palamagamba John Aidan Mwaluko Kabudi, who I second 110 per cent and you will know why!
