A Comprehensive Guide to Freeing Your Mind — With Akoth Jumadi
Society is trapped in mental slavery — and Akoth Jumadi is here to help.
At the coffee shop in Nairobi where we meet, the singer’s open, friendly nature quickly becomes apparent after we exchange greetings. She opts for a vanilla milkshake while I tough it out through a steaming cup of black coffee on a hot June afternoon. As we talk about her music, the themes of heritage, equality, and active citizenship carry the day. With a debut album already under her belt and on the cusp of releasing her second project, Akoth has some important messages to share.
“As an architect of the future, I use what I have now to create a way through which those that come after — or even those who are present in this time — can relate to and reimagine,” Akoth says.
The way wasn’t always so clear, however. Indeed, at the beginning of the pandemic, Akoth — like so many others — was grappling with what the way was. So much so that her debut album, Ere Yo, posed the question directly. Translated from Dholuo to mean “Where Is The Way?”, the 8-track release was created amidst keen observations of the social, political, and economic upheavals that were rife during the pandemic — and what those upheavals meant for the music industry at large. “So many good artists came out at that time [the pandemic]. Those who were gatekeeping weren’t gatekeeping anymore. It forced us to slow down enough to look at the underground artists and those who have been doing it for a long time without really getting the attention they deserve.”
To Akoth, the systems that the ordinary person is up against day after day were being unmasked in the middle of global-scale disruption. Fuelled by the chaotic state of the world, Akoth felt an urgency to release her first major project. Ere Yo — a collection of tracks sung in Dholuo and Kiswahili and laid tenderly over gentle guitar and percussion — is the commentary of a young African woman who is deeply concerned by the direction we seem to be heading in almost every aspect of our lives: socially (“There are huge gaps in the way we express ourselves and in our relationships with each other.”), politically (“As young people, we’re not really concerned enough about politics, and that is very alarming to me.”) and mentally (“We have an identity crisis. How can we reinforce our values for ourselves and the immediate people around us?”). She credits the first single, the upbeat ‘Jangolo,’ for being the catalyst for the positive reception that the album received. At the time of writing, Ere Yo has garnered streams running into the thousands on various platforms. Upon its release in October 2020, Akoth speaks of the glowing feedback she received from listeners, with some saying she was a source of inspiration. And with the soft vocals she serves up, one could say the album was also a source of soothing in a most tumultuous year.
Akoth’s Dholuo and Kiswahili lyrics didn’t hinder the album’s ability to resonate with listeners who are unable to understand either dialect. She strongly believes that the fact that she was able to communicate with her audience on a deeper level is where the power of art lies. “You don’t have to understand the language or even see that thing as yourself. But if that thing feels like something that could be yourself, is yourself, or has been yourself, then you relate to it in a way.”
How significant could language really be to an art form like music? As a tool of expression and a means of passing down tradition and history through generations, the place of language in any society cannot be overstated. However, its value grows tremendously when its very existence becomes threatened as the older generation fades away, leaving the new generation without cultural memory. Subtle but pervasive conditioning that vernacular should take a back seat has left Africa facing a cultural crisis that is the slow and steady death of indigenous language.
“My Luo was okay growing up because my parents incorporated it in sentences. One of the reasons that most creatives don’t really express themselves in their languages is because, for a long time, we thought it was very backward. I feel it’s really important to honour these languages because they’re disappearing.” Thankfully, this cultural extinction has not gone completely unnoticed, and Akoth gives credit to workshops and exhibitions on the phenomenon of ‘disappearing Africa’ for opening her mind to the urgency of the issue. “These people that came before me had experiences. They spoke their language, and it had so much meaning. It holds so much information in it. We listen to R&B and soul and hip hop — which I listen to as well — but I can do it and still express it in my language. Through the energy expressed in the body of work, I hope someone can relate to it. And it kind of worked I think,” she adds with a gentle laugh.
Before taking on the heavy burden of ensuring the continuity of language, Akoth’s musical journey had simpler beginnings. A self-taught musician with a degree in Disaster Management, her campus days were spent doing covers in bars and restaurants. Some of the band members that she played with in those early days lent their skills to her first album. She credits her long-time guitarist Henry Ngugi, for example, for his contribution to her music when she made the decision to do her “own thing.” Fast forward to the present, and it’s almost impossible to separate Akoth’s public persona from the responsibility she feels towards preserving her heritage. Anybody can see that her outward appearance is a celebration of culture: everything from the Bantu knots in her hair to the bright, lavish fabrics she adorns for live performances is a very deliberate effort to honour her roots. However, she makes one thing clear: it’s not just about returning to heritage. It’s about “redefining, recreating, and reimagining” it “on our own terms. Representing how we are now, without any mixtures from the West, which is the strongest influence in our culture right now.”
As such, Akoth’s strongest influences are far removed from the West. Rather, it’s her immediate surroundings and the desire for a society that functions at the highest level that inspires her. For Akoth, sitting on the sidelines and letting other people make decisions that directly affect her is not an option. And as the country now reels from a hotly contested general election, such a stance could not be more important. “I’m very passionate about being radical politically with my art because I think it’s one of the most important aspects of our society. In order for our systems to work, we have to be politically aware.”
It’s no surprise that she teases a more politically-inclined body of work with her forthcoming sophomore release. In any case, an album that leans into the political discussion could just be the kind of mental emancipation that the country needs at this time. Dubbed Yo Ni Ka (“The Way Is Here”), audiences can expect visual accompaniments, a range of collaborations, more instruments, and a lot more freedom. Being the product of a unique perspective born out of the travels, encounters, and new acquaintances formed as a result of touring, one can only anticipate that the record will pack a bigger punch. The enthusiasm in her voice is unmistakable as she recounts the experiences that inspired the direction of her new album. “It was interesting to travel and meet other artists from different countries who were going through what we’re going through similarly, but differently. That really inspired a lot of my music. And I think once I started going out, my whole soundscape changed.”
Ahead of its release, Akoth reveals that Yo Ni Ka comes close to answering the question that its predecessor had asked and that the ‘way’, in fact, is by being responsible for our own liberation. None but ourselves can free our minds, as Marcus Garvey told us, and if we want to break free from a “system that would eat us alive if we allow it to”, then everybody’s got to do the work. “How can we remove ourselves from the shackles of lineages of hurt and pain and brokenness and be in a mental space that allows us to create a system that works for us?” Akoth poses. “How can we break that cycle of trauma in order to be fully liberated as artists?”
The journey for Akoth so far hasn’t been without its challenges, especially when it comes to the place of women in the music industry. In our discussion, Akoth brings to light the issue of female musicians often falling into the role of vocalist, leading to a scarcity of female instrumentalists. A case in point is the small number of women who have elected to play the traditional drum, which has prompted experienced female Kenyan percussionists to form groups specifically for the purpose of encouraging more women to take up percussion instruments. Akoth’s band is somewhat a symbol of female representation in the field of percussion, with Pendo — one of Nairobi’s female percussionists — playing traditional drum for the group. For Akoth, the dearth of female participation in the industry propagates the risk of storytelling that favours one gender. “Instrumentation is a vital aspect of making music because you’re creating the sound. Is it that women cannot express themselves as musicians? Even female producers are so few,” she laments. “The voice is also an instrument, but women need to be more active in playing the music and creating the sound. We need more women actively in management and publishing.”
While being put “out there” by the release of Ere Yo came with its share of benefits — “I was able to have musicians who I look up to be like, ‘Do you want to do a session with me?’” — financial return remains frustratingly elusive. As an independent artist, most of the proceeds received from touring and endorsements go back towards funding her work — leaving little to live comfortably on. And as her exposure grows, her brand needs to grow with it, and that means enlisting the services of photographers, videographers, lawyers, and other staff that are vital to the visibility of an artist — staff who also need to be paid for their services. These financial challenges are the consequence of an ecosystem that desperately needs to do better in support of the artist — sentiments that have been vocalized by numerous artists across the country.
Boundary-setting, assertiveness, and professionalism have proven to be useful interpersonal skills when it comes to relating with peers, especially as a woman establishing her place in the industry as a vocalist and multi-instrumentalist. Akoth plays the guitar, nyatiti, and the bass guitar and has a solid understanding of music. “Some people think I just come to sing. No, I’ll tell you what I want, how I want it, and when I want it. And that’s always a bit difficult for people, so I have to mansplain to my fellow male counterparts.” Safety is also of utmost importance, as one learns to straddle the fine line between being easily accessible to fans and maintaining enough distance to keep those with ulterior motives at bay. And in the absence of a manager who would otherwise sift the grain from the chaff, learning the skill of discernment becomes crucial. “When people can reach out to you directly as an artist, it can be tricky.”
In addition, not having the protection of a label can leave an artist susceptible to exploitation, so staying on top of legal matters and launching legal attacks becomes the responsibility of the independent artist. And while dealing with all this, it’s easy to forget that you need a break from time to time. Self-care is key. “After Ere Yo, at some point, I needed to take time for myself to relax and recharge and not always be serving other people.”
Whether you’re a youth or a creative, Akoth’s rallying cry is that it’s time for you to take charge: as a young person, it’s time to take an active role in the political processes that directly affect your life. “We have to know what’s up and how it affects us. Taxes, people we put into power, the systems that govern our daily life — we have to really be present and play a role in that.”
As an artist, you can no longer sit back as decisions that affect the pursuit of your craft are made in your absence. As artists continue to engage even more actively in the running of their ecosystem — be it through the collaborative power of collectives or by being more vocal about what is and isn’t working — great things are bound to happen, especially when it comes to economic liberation. “As artists, we need to be free to do our art and not have to deal with the constraints of funding. Why should we settle for the bare minimum as creatives? If art is the vehicle that moves everything around, then we should be doing it actively and better.”
And as a people? We need to be free. The message from Akoth is clear: choose freedom, now and always. “I’ve been in other societies where things work well and the systems are okay,” she says. “Why can’t it be that way for my people? Why is it that we still have to be in the shackles of all these things that have been indoctrinated in our brains and not liberate ourselves from that? If I can do that as a creative, then I’m gonna try.”
For all things Akoth Jumadi, visit her official site.
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