Friday, February 5, 2010

How Mau Mau oaths influenced the music of Bob Marley: Untold tales of the legend.




By Nzau wa Musau


“And then there was the matter of Bob, another human conundrum who seemed to be holding out answers to questions which they could only guess at; for one not yet out of teens, he was a most mysterious character,” Timothy White, Catch a fire.


GLANCING through Timothy White’s Catch a Fire book on life and times of Bob Marley, one comes across a very interesting claim; the influence of Kenya’s independence movement on the reggae superstar’s politically rich lyrics.

Mau Mau, Kenya’s liberation movement gets a mention on page 332 as among the inspiration behind the Bob’s heavy musical lyrics and political thought which continues to inspire many years after his death in 1981.


Much more specifically, the supernatural ndemwau ithatu (oath of unity) which was administered to Mau Mau initiates gets special mention as among the material read by Bob and his Rasta brethren and on whose basis lyrics were crafted.


Other materials mentioned in the book included Sepher Yetsirah (book of creation), the Fama Fraternatis, Book T, Book M, The Pimander, The Asclepius, The Holy Piby and The Kachina creed of the Hopi Indians.


“Much such material was brought to Bob Marley and his Hope Road companions by various Rasta holy men or ambitious partisans for scrutiny and discussion, the book says and adds:


“Condensed aspects of these mystic and political tracts found their way- sometimes quite naively- into the astrological and quasi-biblical columns published in each issue of Survival, the Tuff Gong (Bob’s nickname & music label/studio) newsletter.


Because of such heavy thoughts and increasing popularity and acclaim among the underprivileged forces of Jamaica, Bob had become the target of CIA trail and got mired in the rivalry pitting two Jamaican political parties PNP and JLP leading to his 1976 near liquidation.


In this book, White gives very interesting accounts of both political situations and social ones conspiring in the December 76 assassination attempt. On one hand was a political party (PNP) setting him up together with CIA while on the other hand, ghetto violence is trailing him.


The latter is particularly more intriguing: Some bad money hanging out at Bob’s palatial residence of Island House had schemed to fix a jockey race at Caymanas Park which fetched them a kill but in sharing the loot, some skipped to Miami with the loot.


Those left behind went after Bob with guns demanding he pays up for his “breddahs”. They ended up blackmailing him with an arrangement of 2000 pounds daily pick-ups until the money, plus interest was paid.


The pick ups continued until a week into the “smile Jamaica” concert, a PNP sponsored event at which Bob was billed to perform and during which armed-to-teeth PNP vigilantes mounted a24 hour security round Bob’s Island house.


When the men would not get through for their daily picks, they laid an ambush during which they caught up the entire Wailers band rehearsing in the night, and shot indiscriminately seeking out after Bob to finish him off.


Hurt and shaken, Bob would later perform at the event during which White says he broke into a ritualistic dance acting out aspects of the ambush that had almost taken away his life.


“The last thing they saw before the reigning king of reggae disappeared back into the hills was the image of the man mimicking the two-pistoled fast draw of a frontier gunslinger, his locks thrown back in triumphant laughter,” White writes.


Bob went into exile but the shadows of vengeance remained behind. All those involved in the ambush were tracked after by Bob’s ‘disciples’ and killed; one was viciously murdered, another tracked down in New York and shot while another was shot in the head in Jamaica.


Some who fled to the hills had their throats, as White puts it, neatly slit; others were tried and killed by ghetto mobs. The last two assailants confessed and begged to be taken to Bob to ask for forgiveness but the rastas wouldn’t allow them.


“When these men were last seen alive, they were wandering aimlessly through Trench Town and Rae Town, respectively, behaving like demented zombies. They stammered about a strange saliva-like substance that would splash against their faces at night, and duppies clocked in blue flame that came to them just before sunrise and slapped and punched them.”


The theme of Bob’s curse-tongue is explored well in this book, from casting spells to murmuring prophesies which later turned true.


Growing up in a highly superstitious countryside where it was believed souls of the dead were set loose for use in either good or bad, Marley’s childhood misfortunes had been interpreted in the light of dark forces which his grandfather, a herbalist and “myalman” (obeah-deflector) of renowned repute dealt with proper.


Omeriah Malcolm, as he went, had schooled in ancient “myalist” arts by his father, Robert Malcolm, who had descended from Cromanty slaves shipped to Jamaica from the Gold Coast, White says.


A quiet child, Robert is depicted in this early years as one prone to mysterious silences and cryptic moods than to mischief, one who would go off to little walks on himself and lock himself in own little meditations.


He has a reputation for accurate palm reading at young age and shocked his mom when he told her that he would die at the age of 36. He had also “cursed” producer Leslie Kong that he would make millions out of him but would die without enjoying it, prophesies which according to White came to pass.


Like Joseph of the Bible, after whose tribe he took when he converted into a brethren of twelve tribe’s movement, Bob was also a dreaming lad.


White illustrates this severally in the book among them one dream in late 60’s in America where Bob sees a short man who hands him a ring with a black jewel embossed on it with some insignia.


Both he and mom Ciddy tried to crack it up with the mom thinking it was the ghost of his dead father seeking recognition. She hands Bob his father’s ring but the lad aint convinced for he pulls it out as soon as it slips in his finger.


Ten years during his forced exile in London, he would meet deposed Emperor Haile Sellassie son Crown Prince Asfa Wossen who after briefing him on Ethiopian politics and fate of the man-god, handed him the precious Lion of Judah Ring:


“This belonged to His Majesty,” he said as he slipped it into Bob’s finger “You are the one who should wear it.” The ring would later cause a lot of ruckus after Bob’s death with Rasta zealots launching a campaign to bequeath it.


White also offers very interesting insights into Bob’s final days painting the picture of an isolated dying man separated from his loved ones. Even after collapsing in the middle of an American tour, the inner sanctum of Bob’s dreads would not inform his family, wife Rita or let her near him.


Rita seeks him out in vain after a weird dream during which she saw him wasted, dreads fallen and talking to her from a hospital fence.


White says that when she woke and finally tracked him down, he looked so ancient and hardly recognizable. As Bob narrated his fate to her, Rita wept uncontrollably, even more as Bob weakly stated that they wouldn’t let him stop the tour.


“It makes nuh sense to stop the tour… Bob is gwan die anyway,” one of Bob’s mindless entourage told Rita. During that last tour, Bob’s entourage partied mindless as the man stayed behind in his bedroom alone complaining he needed to rest.


When things appeared tough and they began to shuffle after one cancer hospital to another without remedy and with newspapers announcing his impeding death, Rita had Bob baptized in the Ethiopian Orthodox church taking the name Berhane Selassie.


He was later flown to the German unorthodox clinic of Dr. Josef Issels where he managed to hold onto life for six months until it was doggone clear that there was no redemption to his illness. He was flown back to Miami to die.


As he clutched on his beloved mom in his deathbed, he whispered: “Don’t worry for me muddah, am gwan ta prepare a place!” His soul slipped away soon thereafter and the fulfilled his own prophesy of dying at 36.


“A man who looked like a skinny lion, moved like a spider and lived like a ghost, Bob Marley died trying to control the duppies within himself. This is a disturbing story about the thin ice that is mere information, the terrible onrush of truth and the ebb and flow of magic,” White says.


He goes on to recount the countless court cases filed against the multimillion estate of Bob, revelations of Bob’s own conduct during the trials, the aftermath tensions between Rita and Ciddy and the blossoming of the Bob’s family tree.


Ends………/.

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