Express Yourself #1
Creative Nonfiction by Mowa Badmos
Express Yourself
music.
/ˈmjuːzɪk/
Noun.
· vocal or instrumental sounds (or both) combined in such a way as to produce beauty of form, harmony, and expression of emotion.
As much as music is something I strongly relate to and find comfort in, its significance in culture, or rather, its relevance is becoming lost to me. Having something so important be so ephemeral,
ephemeral.
/ɪˈfɛm(ə)r(ə)l,ɪˈfiːm(ə)r(ə)l/
Adjective.
· lasting for a very short time.
is extremely troubling.
Anchoring oneself to something ephemeral can be detrimental to growth, but that depends: is it
temporary anchorage or a lifeline.
Music is both and none of the above, for me.
Music acts like dentures. Provide support when needed and generally fine without. But akin to dentures, it is preferred.
Music, as a whole, can be said to be an anchor but the type of music plays an important role. Being in a community where the music of my countrymen makes up the majority of playlists is both satisfying and suffocating.
Satisfying: I feel happy we are known for something I deem to be very important and very worthwhile.
Suffocating: It is beginning to lose its luster.
What do I mean by this?
As a Nigerian, I am getting bored of mainstream Nigerian music, i.e., the music I hear all the time, particularly at ALA. It is a very troubling fact to come to terms with, because as aforementioned, I find comfort in it and its significance to my Nigerian culture.
How does one explain their main essence is being slowly eroded like a rock in the ocean?
The answer is simple. One doesn’t.
Over the past few weeks after coming to this realization, I have found another anchor. Nigerian music.
No, not the same music, but still the same. Topics in the music might be similar, the artists of the same origin and the producers exactly the same but there’s a fundamental difference — language. Nigerian artists singing and rapping in their local dialects, particularly mine — Yoruba.
With artists such as Olamide, Lil Kesh, Phyno, Simi, and Burna Boy, I have found not just anchorage but a better understanding of my own language.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
The beauty of music also follows that principle. In my eyes, the beauty of Nigerian music is in intertwining local dialects and pidgin English.
Beauty changes with the lens at which you look at it.
I’d like to adjust the phrase: Beauty is in the lens of the beholder, not the eyes.
In conclusion.
Anchorage is beauty.
“My work is meaningful to me because it is a representation of my mind and my innermost feelings which I usually find hard to express. It is me at my most vulnerable which is both frightening and exhilarating.”
Mowa Badmos, from Nigeria, is ALA class of 2016.
