Moses Serugo

Our prospects at earning yet another Grammy nod seem high. US-based Ugandan musician Samite Mulondo was recently lauded by the Grammy website for his work in music therapy.

The 47-year-old folk singer and instrumentalist has been playing music to sexual slaves of rebel soldiers in northern Uganda and trying to ease their pain. He has also been playing his magical flute to refugees in Liberia, genocide victims in Rwanda and Aids orphans and street children in Kenya and Tanzania.

Music therapy is now touted as a vital medical aid. It was used with victims of 9/11 terrorist attacks and the Columbine school shootings in the United States while opera singer Luciano Pavarotti supported a music-therapy project in Bosnia after the brutal war there in the 1990s.

In Liberia, Samite filmed a documentary titled Song of the Refugee in 1997 and while the people were angry about the cameras, his flute had them gather and sing with him to make the shoot easy.

He can relate with these young souls because he too has suffered part of their plight. Samite fled to Kenya in the early '80s after his brother was kidnapped and murdered following the infamous panda gari operations of the time. During his therapeutic visits, Samite hands out hundreds of instruments like flutes and kalimbas.

And thanks to advancements in technology, a digital recording studio helps the children burn CDs of themselves singing.

Samite has made a couple of quiet trips back home and he says doing concerts here can wait. "I come here to promote Musicians for World Harmony, my non-profit organisation," he explains. The last time that Samite was here earlier this year, he met people at AACAN, Action Against Child Abuse and Neglect. The Soroti-based NGO runs orphanages and centres that help children who were once child soldiers.

During another trip to Soroti in 2003, Samite partnered with local band Ojabe on a track titled Soroti Boys Song, which appears on his Tunula Eno album. He hopes to rally local artistes for this cause. His new CD Embalasasa is the latest step in bringing musicians, instruments and some hope to African children including the ones in Uganda.

"I visited refugee camps in Rwanda, Cote d'Ivoire and Liberia in 1997. I found that by just playing a flute to these people - some of whom had endured the worst atrocities - they were changing, opening up and crying. That's when I found that music had a powerful healing force that we need to take advantage of," Samite adds.

He should know having been a refugee himself. "I was in Thika (Kenya) in 1982 and I noticed that when you are in a situation where it doesn't matter if you have money or not, all you need is love and if somebody brought in music then I would have been very happy," he explains his music therapy venture.

Embalasasa comprises 10 tracks of soothing piano, kalimba, drums and acoustic guitar. The title track talks about a chromatic lizard that seemed attractive to touch but gave a lethal bite. "As kids, my granddad cautioned us against playing with this lizard and he killed it always," explains Samite. "I have used it as an allusion to sex saying it may be beautiful but it can bite you with Aids. I am calling upon my granddad to help us get rid of this epidemic." The song is a cry for help and a testimony to the futility 25 years of Aids research has yielded.

He talks about the difficulties of dating again on Nawe Okiwulira. "You are much like a lovesick puppy, making mistakes and telling off whoever rejects your advances," Samite says cheekily.

Samite lost his wife three years ago to a brain tumour and he sings an ode to her on Look for the Sunset.

"I know I will find you wherever you have gone," he sings in Luganda to his late wife. He immortalized her in on the Tunula Eno album released in 2003.

We Can Do Better takes a hard look at the goings on in Iraq where young US Marines taken mostly from poor families are brought back in body bags. It is bad enough that they are at times not seen as heroes because the war is unpopular.

The rest of the album is a blend of traditional and modern instrumentation spiced with humming, "oooooh" and "eeeeeeh" chants. Some songs are playful, others sombre while Kakokolo is reminiscent of grandfathers folklore around a fireplace as Samite retells that tale about the goblin that won the hand of a fair maiden.

Musical roots

Samite was one of the founders of the original Mixed Talents Band in the '80s, an outfit that did popular hits of the day. Together with Hope Mukasa- proprietor of Kampala's Sabrinas Pub - they recruited other musical peers like Steven Nsubuga, Philly Lutaaya and Billy Mutebi.

"The Mixed Talents was born out of a need to escape from the fluid politics of the day by bringing together people who could sing or play an instrument," Samite adds.

As a child Samite recalls his large family spending time with his grandparents. "I was very lucky to have lived in the village, eating fruits. Young people do not get to enjoy that nowadays," he reminisces.

While in the village, Samite was exposed to traditional musicians who performed at weddings. "My granddad loved to play the flute and he would pit us the kids against each other. That is how I came to love the flute," he recollects.

He also remembers walking past the Lubiri - the Kabaka's Palace (before the raid in 1966) often with his mum and hearing the royal court musicians play.

Samite's love for music soon put him on a collision course with his dad. "He wanted me [to] become an accountant because like most parents then, he thought I would never amount to anything if I pursued music," Samite says.

Music was far more challenging and exciting than a desk accounting job. Samite often had to defy his dad and sneak so he could go and play with the Mixed Talents whenever they had a gig.

Samite was sad about leaving his musical passion behind when he fled to Kenya. He lived in a refugee camp for four months sharing an abode with people from Rwanda, Sudan and Somalia. "It was a learning experience because it taught me to respect people," he explains.

Being in Kenya may have freed him from his conformist family but with it came a bout of homesickness. "The people at home sent me a kalimba (thumb piano) and ntongooli (bow lyre) and I played songs my granddad sang to us as kids," Samite says with gratitude.

A chance to play professionally arrived when the African Heritage Band in Kenya sought to replace a departing saxophonist. Samite couldn't play the sax but needed the job badly he did a crash course in playing the brass instrument. He later met an American [woman], Joan who took him to the United States in 1987. She later became his wife.

"The tumour affected her speech and all she did was mumble. I kept telling her that if you turned and looked at me, I would know what you are trying to say," says Samite. "When you know someone you love is about to die all you can do is to love," he adds.

Opportunities

America provided the opportunities he was looking for and soon Samite was opening for acclaimed acts like Paul Simon and Lady Smith Black Mambazo. A producer took interest in a demo Samite had and in 1988 he released his debut album, Dance My Children Dance.

Apart from Tunula Eno, the other albums Samite holds dear include Abaana Bakeesa, a chronicle of how young people lived during the turbulent '80s. "If you went out on the town, the prudent thing would be to wait till dawn to get back home because of the insecurity," Samite recalls.

Another album, Sirina Musango was inspired by the homeless people he saw in New York. "I took a photo of this guy and at the back of my mind I imagined this fellow was someone's baby at one time," Samite explains. One of the tracks on this album, Bandekawo, was sung for Robert, the 1986 monkey boy. Samite's other albums include Pearl of Africa Reborn (1992), Stars to Share (1999) and Kambu Angels (2001).

Samite likes to describe his music as not being formulaic. "I write what makes me happy. Some may like it, some may not," he emphasises. For Samite, it is the changes on the faces of the children he sings and plays for that count, not winning a Grammy or selling a record number of CDs.

He also uses his homecomings to bond with Kenneth Mulondo, his 30-year-old son. His other child, Namakula Mulondo (26) is a piano teacher in South Africa. He never had any children with his late wife Joan.

About settling back here, Samite says it's something he has been thinking about a lot. "Maybe I should live here and perform abroad," he chuckles at the suggestion.