‘Play it fuckin loud’ – Bob Dylan

Music encapsulates all of life’s experiences. It is form of release, therapeutic. However, certain music raises more questions than answers. We’ve all been culprits of singing along to a certain song without really knowing the meaning of the lyrics. A fresh example is ‘Loliwe’ by Zahara. Quite a number are familiar with the lyrics but not its meaning. Is it our fault? I guess not, the beat was catchy and the tune soulful.

Next time you listen to a song that is in a language that you don’t understand, instead of bobbing your head to the beat, pause and find out what the lyrics to the song mean. You could be initiated into the illuminate without your knowledge. Music is a message, hear it…Listen to it.

Hot, stinging tears trickled down her face. She put her hands behind her head and scanned the small crowd that had gathered to witness her predicament. All had been well; a serene afternoon of household shopping at the local supermarket had turned into a nightmare. After two hours of shopping, Atieno walked back to her car accompanied by one of the supermarket’s attendants, only to find it missing. She was a bit startled and maybe attributed a bad memory to the absence of her car. Where could she have left it? The guard, a tall, robust and dark man, who had been manning the vicinity, walked up to her and began to explain himself. He narrated to her how a man of Asian descent facilitated the whole process of having her car towed away. He emphasized on how he unceasingly begged them to at least contact the owner of the motor vehicle. They wouldn’t listen and he was left completely helpless.

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My heart itched, and so I longed to scratch it,
I couldn’t, wouldn’t.
The scab was so brittle,
A miserly attempt to guard tufts of indifference
My only desire was to kill you
But your intrigue weakened my conviction each time,
So that my breath ceased instead.
I wanted to buy a dress,
To trace the outline of my youth,
But you insisted on a dira,
Saying that bad men would ogle,
All men ogle.
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Careless Whispers
I died, he died
When the bus to ghost town left us behind
I whistled when it started raining
He wept
I screamed at the top of my lungs every time my football team won a match
He drew thickets instead
And when our neighbours stole our jiko, he poured sewage water on their vegetables
I cheered on but took off as soon as the chief showed up
I laughed when he fell off the bicycle
Jeered him when he addressed the villagers
Put a caterpillar on his neck when he was asleep
When Atieno died, he moaned for me
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