Sam: It's 8 years already
HIS debut album in 2008, “Rume Rimwe”, was a bold statement announcing his arrival on the Zimbabwean music scene and declaring the intention to be “his own man”.
The second album, “Cheziya”, also asserted the artiste’s journey to self-discovery. It was supposed to have coincided with his 22nd birthday on April 1, 2010. But Sam Mutukudzi had died. It has been eight years since Sam and his engineer, Owen Chimhare, died in a horrific car crash as they drove to Norton from Harare.
In that time, I have had several interviews with Sam’s father, Oliver “Tuku” Mtukudzi, either as he released posthumous albums by his son or around the date on which he died.
It’s through these interviews that we have come to know much of Sam: how he foretold his death through song; how hard working and disciplined he was; the visionary that resided within him, even at that tender age of 21.
Posthumous releases like “Ngariende” are quite popular and the likes of Gary Tight are quick to do renditions at live shows.
And, as I pored through “Tuku Backstage Second Edition”, Shepherd Mutamba’s latest book on Mtukudzi, the chapter titled “Son(s)” stayed with me long after I had finished reading the book.
As we remember Sam, The Sunday Mail Society reproduces excerpts from Mutamba’s book, which hit bookstores last Monday.
*** Sam was Tuku’s second child with Daisy. He was born on April fool’s day in 1988 in the city of Kwekwe.
At only four years of age, the younger Mtukudzi started showing an inclination towards music; something quite unusual for someone of that age. While children his age went out to play with toys, Sam was to be found deeply engrossed in music, imitating his father’s song and trying his luck on the guitar all by himself. No one really took notice of him over the years until the day Tuku saw him playing at a school function.
“I discovered when he was the age of 10, when he invited me and his mother to his school. And on the programme I saw Sam was featuring under entertainment and I said ‘oh, oh, oh!’ And I saw my own amplifier being taken on stage, my own guitar being taken on stage and he played two songs or so. I thought this was a bit too early for my son, but what comforted me most was that he was playing own compositions. I said. ‘Son, that amplifier and guitar are mine, next time don’t steal instruments’. From that time I saw the art in him and promoted it and not what I wanted him to be or what his mother wanted him to be (a pilot)”.
At high school, at Prince Edward School, in Harare, Sam had the opportunity to develop his talent because the institution offered the facilities to pursue music and he learned to play the mbira, drums, marimba, saxophone and guitar.
Sam formed AY Band in 2006 and released his debut album with “Rume Rimwe” (2007) but occasionally joined his father on tour. He detoured into acting and played the leading role in the award-winning short film “Chipo Changu” (2006), directed by Arnold Shoko and produced by Tuku. He also did the opening and closing sound tracks on the film and had plans to do more work in film, including setting up a training studio for young camera persons. All was set for the public launch of his second album “Cheziya” to coincide with his birthday on April 1, 2010. Tragically, he died a fortnight before the event. I remember Sam most for his philosophy of life and extraordinary power of artistic creativity for someone just coming out of his teens. Tuku even affirmed that at 21, he himself had not achieved what Sam had attained at the same age; materially or artistically. Sam was able to pack so much into the 21 years that he lived. The boy never really struggled to write and arrange music. His arrangement, where he fused classical jazz beats, was even more complex than Tuku’s. He was developing into a musical prodigy. The two used the acoustic-cum-electric north America-made Godin guitars as the main instrument for their melody. Although still so young, Sam was already building his legacy in music. We sat together as board members at Pakare Paye Arts Centre and Tuku Music. He was the youngest director, but ideas on arts development and business far surpassed those of most of us; including his father and mother. Tuku and Daisy were building the Tuku music empire and arts centre with their son in mind. Although he was advantaged, having been born in a wealthy family, Sam never rode on the fame and success of his father and didn’t want to be judged as Tuku’s son. He was warm and down to earth and humble for a son of an icon and would use public buses and nobody would notice him. Sam would tour the world capitals performing with Tuku and back home he easily played with the same zest for the most ordinary fans in dingy bars where drunkards vomit on the dance floor. Easy going and not really fussy about bling-bling, Sam was at home in Jeans, T-Shirts and moccasins. He interchanged gold and silver necklaces and wore his pants dropped the swagger way. Tall and handsome, Sam chased pretty girls in town and even across the border, in Johannesburg, where he was dating, Laika Masuku, who travelled to his funeral and memorial. Laika is closely related to singer Dorothy Masuku. Sam never made it a secret that he had a knack for attracting gorgeous young women. He was charming all the way.
Castle Larger was Sam’s favourite drink, and he smoked cigarettes but tried hard to hide that habit. I caught him once sharing weed with his band members backstage before the show.
I could bear with him because he was outgrowing the influence of teen life and maturing into adulthood to be a proper man, responsible and respectable.
It would have been unfair to judge him badly. Youngsters, anywhere in the world, grapple with the challenges of growing up. He was young and still developing discipline.
If you met Sam and did not like him, instantly there was something wrong with you. He was lovable young and very debonair.
The use of alcohol got out of hand in Sam’s band during the days when the group was managed by Ropa Viriri. She was seeing Sam, at the same time, and the office romance compromised things badly.
Indiscipline became quite an issue in the band. Some of the band members were actually hooked on alcohol and weed and got plastered so badly that they would time and again fail to play.
Tuku censured bad behaviour in Sam’s group, but gave up on at AY Band not long after Sam’s death, largely due to disciplinary issues. The band dissolved in 2011.
Martha Badza, who had assumed the lead vocals after Sam’s death, died from natural causes. Tatenda Kanjantu, the drummer, committed suicide. Sammy Tsatsi, the bassist, went to follow the Jesus Christ and never saw him again. Alastas Mushoriwa worked as a session musician playing keyboard and doing studio productions. Tawanda Ndoro rehabilitated into a responsible young man and joined Harare-based singer Alexio Kawara and Shades of Black as a guitarist.
Sam was close to his father, to the extent that they were friends more than father and son. He would prepare a meal, invite his father over to his place for super and never really addressed Tuku as dad or father but called him by his totem Nzou (the elephant). Tuku put into perspective the relationship that he had with Sam.
“My friends are always complaining that they’ve problems with their children but I was so close to my son. He knew me very well, as did I him. Some parents don’t know their sons because they don’t have relations with their children. He was just a good young man and I didn’t have problems with him. When he stepped out of the line it was only one word and he was back doing the right thing. “One moment that makes me smile when I think about him is the time he spoke with me when I was in South Africa and he was in Harare. He was supposed to pick me up at the airport in Harare and I changed my mind and I didn’t travel. I sent him a text that I was no longer coming, but unfortunately the text didn’t reach him. So he called me and said ‘Nzou, ko ndeipi? (Nzou, what’s up?) Listen, you supposed to be flying here, so what are u doing at the bus stop?’ We laughed at the joke and I apologised for the undelivered text. Those were the last words between me and my son.” Sam had a huge input in the building plans at the second phase of Pakare Paye Arts Centre, where he suggested the construction of what was to be named after him posthumously as Sam Mtukudzi Conference Centre, a multi-purpose facility that accommodates 2 000 fans.
Daisy loved her son but they had their own tense moments on certain issues that prompted Sam to leave the family home to stay at one of Tuku’s mansions across town in Norton.
Sam wanted to study in America where he had friends who had previously worked together with him on musical projects.
But Daisy wanted her boy to stay and prepare him for bigger things in the family empire; something Sam was not ready to do before he had seen the world and accomplished his studies overseas.
Even at the tender age of 21, Sam would mediate and bring his father and mother together when there was friction.
If Sam was alive today I bet the antagonism between his sisters Selmor and Sandra and Tuku would not have deteriorated to a point where a father and his daughters do not see eye to eye. And possibly Daisy would not be fighting Tuku and chasing him with a gun.
Sam was the bond that held the family together. His fortitude, charm and wit united everyone.
That is why, when Tuku grieved over the loss, his pain was tangible because he knew what the loss meant to the family.
“I’ve to learn to live without Sam because the loss won’t go away. He was more of a friend than a son and those memories are difficult to erase. He was somebody I was looking to.”
Tuku went back on the road to continue with the scheduled shows a fortnight after Sam’s passing.
The shows helped Tuku with the difficult process of trying to unlock from the loss. At his first show after Sam’s death, at Blues Room, in Johannesburg, in May 2010, Tuku told his fans: “This is my first show since the departure of my son. You see, when we’ve children no one bothers to find out how much time we’re going to have with the children.
“We’re so happy that the child is born today but when it happens that the child is no more that’s when we realise that we didn’t have much time with our children. I’m not here to regret but I’m here to celebrate. I’ve to celebrate the 21 years of a wonderful relationship with my son. I was very lucky that my son took after my profession. I’m even more proud of him now than before.”
Tuku gives an insight into Sam’s last days. ◆ Read full article on www.sundaymail.co.zw