The Handshake
The reggae started as a handshake that set the people who believed in the ideologies and manifestoes as spectators and the very contrasting ideas getting a bond in their differences. A mere handshake. We underrated it until we started missing the regular handshakes from family, friends and foes because of this ‘pandemic time’ that no one foresaw.
After the handshake, the only way brothers would agree on divergence is by setting a committee. After committee allowances are tendered a report comes forth. ‘That’s the way forward. These are our recommendations. The recommendations of the majority.’ ‘Brief the populace’ of the coming wave of change and look at where we stand today. Stranded and desolate sons and daughters waiting for the next political messiah with his bag of promises that seem likable. They all are likable.
Nobody Can Stop Reggae.
Politicians and pastors have a gravitation for music. Beyond the fancy posters and banners to announce their visitation, the public address system accompanying the visit itself is as equally important. The biggest crusade and worship rally will be alike a political rally across the street any time of the day or year.
Large speakers to project hopeful messages and play inviting tunes dot the staircases to heaven and paradise respectively and in equal measure. The Lord says replaced by I say to you. A pamphlet with water-drip graphics and doctrine to Harambee avenue replace the bible. Where is the reggae?
We got you. The politicians got you deeply covered. Yes. Way more than you are concerned about yourself. If they are around your town and the sun is closer home and the red dust shines on your eyebrows; they will have a tent for themselves and a few umbrellas to share for thyselves. Yes. They care because often you don’t remember carrying an umbrella every other day when you a step out.
A collection of the greatest hit songs in a specific region is one of the best ways to capture political clout. They do not need a promoter to tell them this; they need an artist who his ready to take from the deep pockets they carry around. Often these are those washed out and survival-broke artists who once lived it bountiful but now scrap their savings from the back pocket of their faded jeans to the front pocket. They accompany Mhesh with a few DJs and dancers who will help pull the crowds and when you have the crowd feed them the ideologies and the promises. The life of the party is the party staying imprinted in the minds and the only way you can do that, is playing unstoppable reggae; the ghetto music for the ghetto people.
Let’s Play.
The only thing I can remember from the launch is that nobody can stop reggae. For a reason maybe; politics is not my indulgence. However, I remember the phrase because I like music as an art and culture; I pray you understand(sic). Meditations on the rooftop echo a different music key from the lyrical narrations about bringing people together through peace and unity. A paper intent on division and diversion from our course of non-stop music.
Years of division and all man has turned to is a refugee in his land. These are situations we have been into, we are in and we may likely get ourselves back into. No pity for the destitute and poor youths trying to make it out as city cleaners and hawkers. Without an education many are trying to chant the wrong road and those with an education chant nothing to call their own. Look to your left and right; there is a bar and a church for you to drown your worries.
Now a politician stands with the tax payers money and a church mic chanting hope to the faithful’s. Dirty deals and innocently deceiving to take away the tax payers money and in return leave us in debt. We cannot see the greed. Now they are almost full of themselves to realize the prospects of their exploitation in their exploits.
The faithful’s do not know what to say. The master is yet to chant a path. Some have set forth for the journey to Canaan again. However, some with a heart ready to take a chance. The prophet short lives the prophecy. Maybe it’s time a protégé of the prophet took the scroll. Read it to the people and those with a heart of a similar affiliation follow the path the leader chants. From where I sit typing this, nobody can stop reggae. For the bridge, we will build and cross it when we get there.
By The African Bro
