By David Rolland
By David Rolland
By Liz Tracy
By Liz Tracy
By Rebecca Bulnes
By Falyn Freyman
By Fire Ant
By Alex Rendon
If you had black skin during the mid-1960s in South Africa, the white government kept you penned in by apartheid. Social fence posts were connected by nothing: no schooling, no money, and no representation in government. Captives in their own country, black South Africans made do on nothing, scraping together ground beans and all flavors of edible things from the earth to make a type of bread called mbquanga. With no formal training, three South African women scraped together all flavors of musical styles from the earth -- township jazz, mbube a capella, zydeco, rhythm and blues -- to make a musical style they named after the bread. They would be called the Mahotella Queens, and mbquangawould become the country's leading musical style, influencing bands like Ladysmith Black Mambazo and Zap Mama.
"I have the strong belief that music comes from Africa," vocalist Hilda Tloubatla says. "Africans are born musicians. This is how God blessed Africans, even African-Americans. We've always believed in music... it's how our forefathers lived during apartheid. Even in the olden days, our great-grandfathers used to live through music. You would find them gathering around the fire and singing."
Tloubatla has called in from the Northwest days after arriving in the States. With an average age of 59, the Mahotella Queens are on a short tour supporting a CD they recorded in 2001 called Sebai Bai. Per usual, the tour will include a large backup band, colorful costumes in the South African tradition (beaded necklaces, raffia-fringed skirts), and dancing that the Mahotella Queens choreographed and will perform themselves. To commemorate the first anniversary of Fort Lauderdale's African-American Research Library and Cultural Center, they will present a program on their music, lives, and South African culture.
Tloubatla was only 22 when the group formed in 1964. She and bandmates Mildred Mangxola and Nobesuthu Mbadu toured the African continent with musical legends Mahlathini, Marks Mankwane, and West Nikosi. Playing to sold-out crowds, the Mahotella Queens became one of the biggest acts in South Africa, but the group was little wealthier than those who came to hear them. Tloubatla remembers, "We were ripped off a lot of money because we knew nothing, so the white guys took advantage of it."
Not that money would have made much of a difference on the road. "Until 1994, we were not even allowed to perform in white areas or sleep in hotels. We would have to sleep in the truck or the van right in the bushes. Or we would ask for accommodations in people's houses."
Still, Tloubatla says the musicians felt grateful for their success. "We enjoyed it. Because there was nothing else you could do."
During apartheid, the Mahotella Queens appeased the wounds of black South Africans with the balm of music inspired by personal experience and became anti-apartheid champions in the process. In Africa, more than anyplace else in the world, musicians are warriors, brave souls who have used song to fend off death, evil, and sadness since the beginning of recorded time. Like warriors, the Mahotella Queens decided to continue their efforts even after the deaths of their comrades Mahlathini, Mankwane, and Nikosi in 2000.
Almost 30 years after the group formed, the women looked to a pool of younger, educated, and "modern" male musicians to fill the void. Many of these young men would, after being invited into the band, try to run things, Tloubatla says. As such, it took a few recastings for the Queens to find new musicians who would respect the trio's work ethic. They completed Sebai Baiin 2001.
"Now, there is nobody who really tells us what to do. We take care of ourselves," explains Tloubatla, who the group acknowledges as the leader. "I am very much careful. We are now very much awake."
That awakened consciousness is reflected in the title track of Sebai Bai. According to Tloubatla, "Sebai Bai" is the name of an only child who inherited all of her parents' wealth. "The song is warning her that men will come running and say that they love you for your money. All in all, we're giving a wake-up call to each and every woman that men can rob you of your money. The next thing, when your money's finished, he'll leave you."
As one of the few women in South Africa to be a public figure since the 1960s, Tloubatla is outspoken regarding the injustice of women's plight in forced traditional gender roles. "It used to be, days after having the baby, you were expected to get up, cook, clean, look after the man, dish out for him. You would work all day, and then the man would come home, and you would still be expected to work. My God," Tloubatla exclaims. "It was too much! Men have ruled women for so long. It's only now that we realize that this was real slavery."
It is the verve of self-sufficiency and optimism that drives the Mahotella Queens, who fight even in the September of their years. Dedicated to Mahlathini, Mankwane, and Nikosi, Sebai Baiis 13 tracks sung mostly in South African dialect to rally the people of South Africa. But the liner notes include French and English explanations of each track: