God is love, but have local artistes romanticised that heavenly trait?

From left:  Willy Paul, Esther Wahome  and Kevin Bahati. PHOTO | FILE | NATION MEDIA GROUP

What you need to know:

  • Some Kenyan gospel musicians have started calling God or Jesus “mpenzi” and “sweetie”.

  • To the conservative Christian who believes in the supremacy of the good old Sunday School rhyme, that is way off the mark, but the artistes say they are being misunderstood by the purists, and that their music is simply “contemporary”

Naskia kichwa, tumbo na mgongo

Nahisi baridi ni kama nachizi

Kweli sijielewi, chakula sili,

Sijui kwanini, kweli ni mapenzi,

Yesu mi’ nakupenda

I don’t know what to do, I know I am in love with you,

Kweli ni mapenzi…

 

You would be forgiven to think that these are lyrics to a love song. After all, the singer ‘feels’ the love all over his body, he is cold and is about to lose his mind. He cannot eat, he does not know why; but he is sure he is in love.

He does not know what to do, but he is contend with the fact that he knows he loves the subject of his lyrics.

This, though, is not a romantic serenade, but a gospel song by local gospel artiste and Tusker Project Fame (2012) winner Ruth Matete. In spicing her lyrics with what sounds like a dash of romance, she is following in the footsteps of Kenya’s contemporary gospel musicians, who seem to draw their inspiration from the mushy side of things.

A while back, you would know a gospel song from the familiar Bible verses and Sunday school choruses, or from the tranquility it brought to your soul and the message of hope it spoke about your situation.

The beats were calculated — ‘a little bit holy’ sounds like the right description here — and would get you in the mood to raise your hands or tap your feet in godly glory. Rarely would you feel the need to gyrate your hips, or twerk in supplication.

But that was then. Things have changed and God has become too approachable, some sort of a buddy you can rap, or rap about.

'GOSPEL MUSICIANS ARE SUPPOSED TO PREACH'

Jesus Christ, it turns out, can also be referred to as “lover” or, forgive us Father, “sweetie”.

Even after listening to entire songs, some people are still confused about whether the songs are truly gospels or clubhouse jams. Kenya’s gospel songs are increasingly being romanticised as God and Jesus Christ are “missed”, “loved”, and “thirsted for”.

Ian Mbuguah, a music teacher and reality TV judge, blames this on the growth of the local gospel music, which has been too rapid that the lyrics have gone wild.

Gospel music is supposed to be basic so that people can understand and relate it to biblical verses. (Today’s gospel music) does not evangelise! I don’t consider it gospel. It is all about the beats and whether it is danceable - Ian Mbuguah, music teacher. PHOTO | FILE | NATION MEDIA GROUP

“Gospel music is supposed to preach,” he says, “to be basic so that people can understand and relate it to Biblical verses.”

Sadly, Mbuguah reckons, most gospel music today is more secular as musicians are more interested in catching the masses, and that what some people today terms as gospel music is too worldly, too suggestive to stick to the spirit and letter of the altar.

“It does not evangelise! I don’t consider it gospel. It is all about the beats and whether it is danceable.”

While many would argue that one of the aims of gospel music is to fish the sinners from their worldly waters and bring them to the godly fold by whichever means, Mbuguah does not share the sentiment.

“No, it doesn’t work like that. It is not a question of winning people over, but about evangelising and preaching the Bible... not about beautiful lyrics and beats.”

Esther Wahome has been in the gospel industry for 21 years now. With 11 albums and several hit songs under her name, she believes that the gospel industry has not changed much, only that there are new entrants with various assignments. She even has a term for those songs that don’t really sound gospel: “social songs”.

“I call them social songs because they talk about a social topic — for example, love — and they do not necessarily preach.

They are not songs you would sing, for instance, in a praise and worship session in church,” says Esther.

She is, however, reluctant to judge her fellow artistes because she believes that every artiste in the industry has a calling, an assignment, a race to run, and that it is all up to them to decide what to do with their time.

“I am not going to pass judgment or pretend to be a big sister or the mother of the industry because I don’t understand their music and therefore cannot judge them,” she explains. “The diversity will continue to grow, but it is important that artistes understand their assignments.”

UNDER FIRE

Esther says that what makes a gospel song a hit is the very reason of the existence of gospel music; the word of God. It is no wonder, then, that songs like Maisha ya Mwanadamu by the Kassangas will remain evergreen because of their deep message.

“If you sing about the word of God, which doesn’t change, then your song will be a hit for decades to come. But if you sing about a situation, you cannot be too sure about the shelf life of the release because situations are never permanent.”

Last year, youthful gospel musician Willy Paul came under fire over the original version of his song Missi, which many people felt had crossed the line.

“Ungekua kabinti ningekucheza love song,” Willy Paul sang. “Huku na kule ningekufuata wewe.... Ungekuwa mtoto ningekutoa nappy, kila siku kubali ma-pampers.... Ungekuwa jambazi ungenitenda, singe-complain.”

The lyrics loosely translate to: “If you were a young girl I would sing you a love song, I would follow you everywhere, if you were a baby I would change your soiled diapers every day, if you were a criminal I would let you rob me without complaining.”

Willy Paul bowed to pressure from the public and went back to studio to record a milder version of the song, which has been getting a lot of airplay in local radio and television stations.

When challenged about the quality and inspiration of his lyrics, he says his critics just do not understand “the personal angle” of his lyrics.

In Missi, he likens himself to the Biblical prodigal son who forced his father to give him his share of inheritance only to waste it on worldly escapades and return home a hopeless, repentant broke.

Gospel singer Wilson Paul . PHOTO | FILE | NATION MEDIA GROUP

“I get inspiration for my lyrics from the Bible as well as my personal experiences. This is music and ministry, and I believe it doesn’t matter how you praise, it is all about the word of God,” says the singer.

Kevin Bahati, a big name in the gospel music scene today, is also raising eyebrows over what some critics have termed “raunchy” lyrics. Having bagged such big gongs as this year’s male artiste of the year at the Groove Awards, he is a crowd-puller in religious gatherings and is said to be making a tidy sum through appearance fees.

In the song Barua, Bahati lets God play the role of a lover to whom he is writing a letter and repeats the words “mpenzi, mpenzi, mpenzi” (my love, my love, my love) in the chorus a lot.

There is no disputing that this is probably one of the biggest gospel hits currently, but many are also questioning the decision, the artistic licence, to call God mpenzi.

Bahati, however, thinks people are missing the point, and that calling God centre is, to him, and indication of how high up he places Him, how much he adores the Deity.

“I call God mpenzi because I believe he is the centre of love and nobody else deserves that name more than Him,” he says, adding that he draws his inspiration from himself, God and society.

The song Barua has quite a catchy tune, and this is perhaps the reason it is so popular among the youth. So, what does Bahati think of the fact that gospel music today leans more towards secular than gospel?

'CHRIST CAME FOR THE SICK'

“Christ came for the sick,” he says. “Not all gospel music is played in clubs, but when your song crosses over we thank God because that means you are reaching out to many people. It is reaching out to the sick, to those that are not born-again. I don’t really consider much about the beat as my latest song, Visa, is a slow one.”

I talk to the born-again and the not-so-born-again. I talk to those who have questions about life. That is why my album, Pulpit Kwa Street, is all about changing perceptions and mentalities. PHOTO | FILE | NATION MEDIA GROUP

Juliani’s very popular song, Exponential Potential, goes:

Walitutharau …aha aha aha (they looked down upon us, aha, aha, aha.

Who is laughing now? Exponential potential! Wana-drown kwa machozi zao, tunaogelea kwa jasho zetu (as they drown in their tears, we are swimming in our sweat)

Who’s laughing now? Aha, aha, aha! 

Nasema aha aha aha, who’s laughing now? (I say, aha, aha, aha, who’s laughing now?)

Exponential potential!

Achana nao.”

Though marketed as gospel, this song easily falls in the category of American hip-hop music that hits at haters by scorning them after they “looked down upon us” but are now “drowning in their own tears”.

But Juliani says his song details the ups and downs of his life, from his humble background to his relative success. His main inspiration, he adds, is the mandate that God has given him and the demographic he is targeting.

“I target the born-again and the not-so-born again,” he says “I talk to those people who have questions about life.” That is why his album, Pulpit Kwa Street, is “all about changing perceptions and mentalities” about God.

But even in his mission to lure people to God, Juliani does not seem to think that he needs to quote specific verses in the Bible to evangelise, arguing that gospel music is all about the singer’s interpretation of the Bible.

Ian Mbuguah, the judge at TPF, says gospel artistes need to go back to the basics and borrow a leaf from the pioneer musicians who “sang gospel music about the love of Jesus, forgiveness, grace and mercy of God”.

But is Mbuguah being too judgmental? Is his perception, his understanding of what is truly gospel music clouded by personal preferences and religious dogma? What, simply, is gospel music?

“Gospel music is simple, soulful and God-oriented,” Mbuguah offers, matter-of-factly. “It talks about the love of Jesus.”

Simple, soulful and God-oriented was not what, four years ago, celebrated UK-based Ghanian gospel artiste Soni Badu complained was missing from the sounds coming from Accra, and for that was criticised for calling some Ghanaian gospel music “nonsense” as it did not exactly exalt God.

In a radio interview earlier this year, Badu explained himself, saying that there is “need to improve on our lyrical content” as some of the lyrics “don’t make sense”.

Maybe that is what Kenya’s gospel industry needs; a back-to-the-drawing-board moment in which artistes exchange notes, re-examine their purposes and content, and have an intimate conversation about God and romance.

 Sample the lyrics below; 

Vipi Jalali nimekumissi sana

Kukupenda ndio nataka kufanya

Vipi mwenyezi nimekumissi sana

Aaaah, prodigal son

(Hey Lord, I have missed you so much. Loving you is what I want to do. Hey God I have missed you, aaah Prodigal son)

 

- Willy Paul, Missi

 

Nimeonau rafiki wa dunia

Sikama urafiki wangu na honey Yes

Nimeona urafiki wa dunia

Sikama urafiki wangu na sweetie Yesu

(I have seen friendships of the world, they are not like mine and my honey Jesus. I have seen friendships of the world, they are not like mine and sweetie Jesus)

 

- Solomom Mukubwa, Sijaona Rafiki Kama Yesu