Music that will make you janomia
A Coster Ojwang concert is a spiritual experience. If you have attended any of his shows, I am sure you will agree with me.
Before attending the fishmarket live, I had never been to a proper concert before in my life. To be fair though, I had attended a Prince Indah performance over three years ago at a local bar in Umoja called Egesa. The entrance fee was only 500 shillings. I did not expect much, but I was pleasantly surprised once Prince Indah started performing.
Unlike the stories I had heard where artists turn up late and perform for less than hour, before leaving hurriedly in convoys presidents could envy, this was different. Prince Indah was on time, started performing by 8pm as promised and was still at it by the time we were leaving, at around midnight. His work ethic was impressive, I honestly felt he should have charged more for the value he gave us.
The club was packed, with a cramped up dance floor, so tight you will move with the crowd and dance to the music like a crashing wave. And the music, there is something about live Luo music that is irresistible.
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Other than the unbearably large and drunk crowd and constant fear of a stampede, I had a great time, danced the night away till my feet were hurting the next morning.
Coster Ojwang shared Prince Indah’s work ethic. When he came on set, he performed, and I mean gave it his everything all night. How he managed to keep us on our feet for that long needs to be studied.
I found out about the fisherman experience happening in Kisumu via an Instagram post whilst I was doom scrolling. It was marketed way ahead of time and I made a mental note to attend. On the line up performing was Coster himself, Okello Max, Apesi , Otieno Aloka, Mr. Joseh Langa among others. I was impressed. The dresscode was a touch of Ankara and I had the perfect fit to go with it.
When I heard Costers music for the very first time was when listening to Okello Max’s album, and a song came on, Kinda Ping. It was one of my favorites from the album. When you hear his voice, it speaks to your soul. It is truly one of those rare and unique vibrations that remined me of Tony Nyadundo, with an urban twist, and a legio beat.
When we arrived at the venue on the evening of Coster’s show, it was evident that creativity and efficiency went hand in hand. The place was packed to capacity, yet with enough room to walk around, and plenty of fresh air , with a slight breeze from the lake. The sun was just setting, and the atmosphere had that yellow orange hue, almost turning blue.
The style was deserving of a fashion show. Most were draped in stylish anakara outfits and hairstyles that screamed I am Africa. The live music was slow and rhythmical, ‘muziki bila jasho’ and most in the crowd were still seated in small groups of friends, partaking of their ‘personalities’ before they could let loose once darkness set in.
The tents were colorful and the smell of booze and choma chicken filled the air in some sections. Friends were laughing and making merry, catching up. Others already on their feet, tipsy from their absinthe and praising the sun goodbye with an evening dance.
And the stage, wow! Colored lights beamed in every direction and smoke covered the ground it would be hard to tell if it was floating. A live band played their soul and the speakers shared their vibrations in perfect pitch and harmony. The dance floor as I would like to call it was spacious, and everything was set for the show.
Here at the heart of East Africa, by the great lake Nam lolwe, for the fishermans experience, everything felt right and I believed it couldn’t get any better. Oh but it did. It did indeed.
Initially, I imagined that I did not know enough of Costers songs to enjoy the experience fully. But for what lay ahead, it did not matter if you could not understand the language either. When Coster came on stage, it was as though the ancestors had joined him. He wore a brown fisherman hat that almost covered his eyes and a stylish Kanzu as did our forefathers. Behind the smoke and lights he looked multidimensional. The once scattered dancefloor was now filled to the brim, coming from every corner to catch a glimpse of him. It was electric.
When he sang, his voice was old and soulful, you could feel his music in your bones ,and the fishers band never missed a beat, the harmony was unmatched. We were in deep waters, and the fisherman and his band carried us through the tempest, and we sang along with them, forgetting about the storm.
I imagined this was the kind music that kept the fleets of our ancestors going during weeks of long voyages in the lake. Even the fish would jump aboard the boat just to hear.
The VIP section was now almost empty as everyone came and joined the dancefloor with the regular crowd to get closer to the rhythm. Music knows no class, no kings or mad men. We all enjoy it the same.
The experience was complete with performances from Coster Ojwang, Okello Max, Apesi, Joseph Langa, Otieno Aloka, Serro, Prince of Rhumba Cane, Shad Mziki, Octopizzo and Brian Sigu who brought in diversity and different techniques. One thing I love about the fisherman experience is the fact that it thrives in different voices. They understand how unity is strength, and how larger crowds can be pulled by bringing in different artists, and they did just that. The best thing, every single one of those artist brought their A game.
As expected, I spent the next few weeks listening to Coster’s music because of how it made me feel. And as I was writing this story, I came across a conversation he had with Jacquey Nyaminde on the Netwalking TV. She asked him about the spiritual aspect of his music, and whether he has a background with Legio Maria because of the beats.
He said he is a spiritual person who loves God. He says he is not from legio, he worshipped at PEFA, and his mother’s family were Jonomia, both which share a similar rhythm with his music. He does what feels and sounds right with his music. He also says he always starts his shows asking God to be present, and it made a lot of sense.
This was one for the books. The energy that filled Tom Mboya that night was simply spiritual.