A critique of Obert Chari’s Mebo
GIVE a critical appreciation of the song ‘‘Mebo’’ by Obert Chari paying particular attention to the play of music on the mind and the mind’s encoding of setting, meaning, and message. (25 marks)
Immediately you see the title you
realise two things:
◆ First, the story is about a person called Mebo . . . and that person is a lady called Marble. The title is a short-cut of the name ‘‘Marble’’ in vernacular. And short-cuts of names are not only for convenience is speech or writing. They often suggest some hidden fondness . . . admitted or not admitted, even suggest a relationship hovering on the verges of a romantic link or attachment.
◆ Second, therefore then and thus the smell of love suddenly hangs in the air . . . call it an aroma or fragrance . . . before you have one clue which way the story will go! And suddenly one line or two into the song . . . voila! Mebo is someone’s soul mate.
The magic and power in this unadulterated song is unprecedented. If you are not aware of the artiste’s ability to gently compel you to listen to him, ask me.
He does it better than Phil Collins. In this appreciation I will focus mainly on how the song ‘‘Mebo’’ influences the mind to encode meaning through language and arrangement of sound and of music and message.
In this song, the little known Obert Chari puts everything into place and gives you a masterpiece that for one moment in time disregards race, colour, language, education, familiarity, socio-economic status, history or experience.
The setting is clearly set in the vivid descriptions of place and activity; a typical rural setting. With it Chari succinctly elaborates the description of his socio-economic background of a simple ‘‘have-not’’ to whom “Mebo” is totally blind.
The song is perfect in every musical sense: the lyrics and the mellifluence . . . every single instrument and voice . . . nothing takes you by force. Chari does not try too much.
He takes you gently through perfect musical syntax and, like or better than the late great Leonard Dembo, migrates and disappears with you to new and genuine realities.
In an environment where we are tired of senseless music, jarring noises, ugly musical sophistication and futile complexity in our ears, you listen to “Mebo” and get awestruck by its genuinely simple sophistication.
There is so much sense in this song that it thrills you to the marrow in all sorts of ways even if you do not like it. And you do not have to know or like Obert Chari.
But the Gokwe guy is one hell of a psycho-linguist, magically able to enhance and encode linguistic information and meaning at the brain-stem.
Many Zimbabwean musicians like Oliver Mtukudzi and the rest have in their music careers dutifully illustrated the benefits of music-based instruction authentically reinforcing the prosody of indigenous language(s) and educating society.
A huge takeaway point here! Music . . . well thought out music . . . good music, is socio-cultural education par excellence. Such is ‘‘Mebo’’ by Obert Chari.
A few years ago when ZBC advocated local talent on radio and television one is sure this was exactly what they meant . . . message, content, purpose and sound.
But what did we get? Foreign musical fusions, ideas and experiments culminating into very cheap noises with new beautiful names dominated by the arrogant indulgence of the artiste rather than the song itself!
Music lost taste, shape, content and purpose in the great name and guise of musical fashion and creativity.
Even songs in which these many so-called gaffers literally talked, roared, barked, bellowed, growled and snarled in cheap and often-times even obscene rhyme schemes, the result which many rushed to call music, the music did not last a day.
They penned obscenity, sang dirty lyrics, wholesale sex, vulgarity of behaviour, violence, hatred, mbanje and higher level narcotic drugs . . . the whole world of brave sinning.
The 12 hour hits naturally evaporated as quickly as they came . . . born early morning and dead by midnight. Not surprising with all beautiful nonsense!
“Mebo” is a striking irony of sense, meaning and purpose.
Of course we cannot call Safirio Madzikatire, Leornard Dembo, Biggie Tembo, Paul Matavire and Simon Chimbetu to each come back from their graves to compose another beautiful and sensible song. you bravely decided?
He repeats to ask several times, you can easily dismiss this seemingly cheap rustic song and story about hopeless country love measured by what you have or what you don’t have, behind the rural sticks . . . depending of course on your size of useless arrogance or vanity . . . self elevation you can call it.
In fact the song unashamedly and pointedly chronicles the musician’s abject poverty, backwardness if you like, without any sense of embarrassment or ignominy.
“My hands are callous from hitting the African drum in country traditional songs.
“And when the song reaches climax my foot-stomping dance throws my shoes into tatters. My knowledge, expertise and wisdom are in herding cattle. My wearing is tasteless . . . my clothes do not match,” he chronicles one by one the evidence of his backwardness.
“This is who I am. Are you sure you love me, despite?” He continues to ask. In fact he repeats this question so many times you do not fail to feel the wonder or pleasant surprise in the equally repeated answer, “Ndiningokuda wakadaro ufunge! Bingo! I love you as you are!”
The mother does piece jobs in the village the whole day over just so that she ekes a little money to buy food; the father is a brick-moulder where he too toils the whole day until sunset so that he goes to school; their house floor is plastered with cow-dung, not cement.
He asks and continues to ask, “Washinga here?” (Are you brave enough to fall for a ‘‘nobody’’ like me?) To which “Mebo” answers, “Ndinongokuda wakadaro ufunge” (I love you as you are).
The story of unconditional love vividly continues to unfold in the song.
When you play this song with purpose to learn and appreciate, you cannot help loving the innocent countrified richness of true and honest country love unadulterated as always happens by urban promiscuous tendencies. He says love is strange — it takes and leaves you in a place of no return, it gets inflamed where it is stopped from burning.
This is no doubt an innocent wellmeant-love-song expressed in sincere psycholinguistic mellifluence which everyone misses nostalgically in today’s relationships and marriages.
It can only be Obert Chari and him alone, the boy from rural Gokwe, who like the school-less Leornard Dembo, who against all odds and life’s perfect ironies, rose to stardom and shared musical glory with the best in music, who can bring back that old genuine sound which is not suffering from musically trying too much.
This does not make as much sense if you are reading and contemplating. Play the song “Mebo” and wear critical-thinking ears; and at once every word of this beautiful song makes frightening sense.
Well done Obert!
It is not about seeking fame and fortune as he says in the song.
He does not even want to be compared to legends, he says; but to be listened to calmly and humbly speak his mind through song.
He says his songs can warn many and change behaviours. Some people think love is a special reserve for learned, educated, urbanised people. This song clearly illustrates that love in all its depths and widths is a universal subject and reality.
In fact it seems to be more original virgin, stronger, genuine, meaningful, down-to-earth and more honest in its basic state as understood by simple country folk like ‘‘Mebo’’ and her singing lover.
These two heavily rustic or countrified lovers seem to understand the true meaning of love than the city redlipped, finger-painted and money-addicted Cinderellas who today know best how to lie, cheat and be unfaithful.
Probably Obert is through this simple but complex song helping society to recreate and redefine genuine love and affection.