HARARE, ZIMBABWE – Hired Gun, a U.S. rapper and educator, says he gained as much knowledge as he imparted when he traveled to Harare, Zimbabwe’s capital, to perform and hold hip-hop workshops last month at the Shoko! International Spoken Word and Hip-Hop Festival.
“Hip-hop is a powerful force because it forges a sense of community,” he says. “It’s basically an expression of reality.”
Hired Gun, whose real name is Mikal Amin Lee, held workshops on freestyling, a subject that he has taught in U.S. schools, universities and even think tanks for government officials. He says that the performances by local rappers throughout the festival were so powerful that they transcended language barriers.
“It was amazing how I didn’t need to understand the Shona language to get the vibe of the local rappers,” he says. “I could still get the sentiment of what was being said. To me, that’s the power of hip-hop and the spoken word.”
Lee says that he met many talented Zimbabwean emcees at the festival. Their energy, he says, was inspirational because participants showed a genuine appreciation for the essence of Zimbabwean culture and identity. He says this appreciation doesn’t ring as true in U.S. commercial hip-hop.
“It is a myth that Americans truly appreciate the culture of their music – of jazz, blues, rock, hip-hop,” he says. “I believe America culture has become things we sell, not things that we do.”
Organizers say the festival took the spoken word movement to a whole new level in Zimbabwe. Spoken word artists say their goal is to ignite social change through the movement by focusing on youth who are drawn to the self-expression that the spoken word allows.
Against the backdrop of a political and economic crisis during the last decade in Zimbabwe, a platform for self-expression has arisen: the spoken word. The Shoko! International Spoken Word and Hip-Hop Festival, held from Sept. 21 to Sept. 24, was co-founded by Comrade Fatso and Outspoken, two of Zimbabwe’s top poets and hip-hop artists, through Magamba, their organization that aims to use cultural activism as a force for positive social change. The scale of the festival made it the first of its kind since the spoken movement emerged here in 2005, says Fatso, 31.
One element that contributed to the scale of the festival was the involvement of international artists. Hired Gun was just one of many international artists who came to share knowledge on their interpretation of the essence of hip-hop and the spoken word.
Another international artist, Akala, who is from the United Kingdom, performed and conducted a workshop at the festival. During his workshop, he showed the similarities between the words of Shakespeare and today’s hip-hop artists.
He presented workshop participants with quotes from either Shakespeare or contemporary rappers, such as Jay-Z and Eminem. During the workshop, not one participant was able to differentiate between the words of Shakespeare and current rappers for all of the examples he gave. For example, “How can you ever destroy the beauty from which one came?” is a line from a Jay-Z song, but many thought it was a line from a Shakespearean work.
Hip-hop poets in Zimbabwe say they are using their talents as a vehicle for social change. They gained their inspiration from a late Zimbabwean poet.
In August 2005, Fatso and two other poets, Victor Moyo and Victor Mavedzenge, launched the House of Hunger Poetry Slam, named after a popular novella by the iconic Zimbabwean poet Dambudzo Marechera. The slam, which is now held monthly, created a space for free artistic expression for the youth of Harare to express their passions, desires and political beliefs.
Marechera is well-known for his Wildean quotes and candid utterances pre- and post-independence in Zimbabwe. His novella “The House of Hunger” discourages readers from letting their human impulses be regimented by psychological, religious, historical, philosophical and political theories. The writer urges his readers to “insist upon your right to insist upon your right to insist on the importance, the great importance of whim.”
He died a pauper on a Harare park bench in 1987. But his words and outlook continue to inspire many Zimbabwean youth today.
“Marechera is inspirational,” Fatso says. “He was anarchic and spoke his mind.”
Poetry, which has historically been quite vigorous in Zimbabwe, gathered new momentum after the poets decided to pay homage to Marechera by creating a poetry movement through the slam, according to Ethel and Chris Kabwato, Zimbabwean poetry critics quoted in the Shoko festival’s press release.
The Shoko festival continued this tribute to Marechera and his passion for social change. During the festival, organizers temporarily renamed a conference room “Marechera Theatre” at Alliance Française, a French language and cultural center in Harare, for the workshops as a tribute to the late poet.
Fatso says he is a firm believer that our word is our weapon. For years, he has been emphasizing at various festivals that music should be used to make youth move and dance against dictatorship and poverty instead of becoming passive consumers and obedient citizens.
“This festival is about music with a message,” he says. “Shoko is a celebration of positive social change. I think that the youth are drawn to the spoken word because it’s a platform of expression for them. It is about them and their voice.”
One hip-hop artist, Proud of You, or POY, raps to an enthusiastic crowd about using the spoken word to address problems.
“Nhamo ine nharo,” he raps. “Nhamo ine nharo,” in Shona translates to, “Problems never go away.”
Youth say they also appreciate having a platform to express themselves in a way that feels natural.
“Hip-hop is all about Africa,” POY says into his microphone. “It is poetry, and it is drums.”
The increase in volume of the crowd’s cheering confirms its concurrence.
A charismatic youngster, who insists on being called Mr. Magoo, is short in height but larger than life in personality. Describing himself as a comedian, poet and actor, he says that the spoken word is important to youth.
“Hip-hop is the language we speak every day,” he says. “That’s why it is important to us.”
He then recites a poem to two girls sitting on a bench. They applaud and laugh when he walks closer to them.
“I dedicate that poem to you two lovely ladies,” he says. “Now I want to whisper three words in your ear: Beer is expensive.”
The festival in Zimbabwe gave the youth a way to make their voices heard and share their inner feelings on a larger scale. Participants say that, by letting them speak and share, the festival helped them to know that they are not alone and that their peers share their sentiments.
In the afternoon on the last day of the festival, there was an open mic session during which anyone could get on stage and speak their mind. Young men and women rapped about HIV, African identity, the future, the soul, inner peace and trust. Some danced, while others shared a prayer.
“What I am hoping the spoken word will achieve is that the arts will mobilize and galvanize the youth towards freedom of expression,” Fatso says.
Lee agrees.
“Silence is not healthy,” he says.
Some of the youth who came to listen rather than perform say it’s important to network with like-minded people.
“What I like about this festival is that you know that everyone here is in the same mindset,” says Kenny Munyaka, 23, a member of the audience. “There is no friction. It’s smooth sailing. You know that no one is offish, that you can talk to anyone.”
Magoo says the youth appreciate the solidarity the festival fosters.
“We are drawn to such events because it brings us youth together,” he says, before joining a group of smiling teens in a hip-hop dance workshop.
There was an air of encouragement that participants were safe to be themselves under the umbrella of the festival. The workshop leaders and performers instilled in attendees the importance of confidence in themselves and their abilities to change the world.
“Just ’cause I’m African doesn’t mean I can’t sell albums in Japan,” POY says from the stage.
