The “rainbow” nature of the cultural anthropology of South Africa is all-pervasive and one of the most remarkable manifestations is in the palette of colours that bursts forth in the a capella vocals that dapple the come from the gospel-tinged choirs of South Africa. There is much of this to seduce the heart’s ear on Marula’s Shade and this is spread almost like tinsel dust across the record. But there is something even deeper in the music of this record. It is that the entire album has been crafted to pay homage to a programme set up to communicate the desperate message related to AIDS education in one part of South Africa, where as much as 40% of the population suffer from this dreaded disease. It is this didactic nature of the album that takes precedence over pure entertainment in the songs.

Still the music carried by the soaring nature of charming the folkloric elements of South Africa’s music—the dental clicks in the Zulu Isicathamiya singing and the harmonic Mbaqanga; Marabi is mixed in with gospel and on some charts such as “You Can’t Dance,” Zulu jive meets drum and bass and the glue for it all is Kwaito South Africa’s unique implementation of hip-hop with a flair that only the ebullient people of South Africa can meld as one. The fabulous song, “Siyalobola” is a fine example of the unique force of melding gospel with Kwaito with the driving percussion propelled ever-forward by the striking tabla work of Samir Gupta. But it is the singularly beautiful yet melancholic nature of “Marula’s Shade.” But this melancholia is ultimately joyful as the music here is never droll, but always finds a way to reach upward, as if soaring in the fluttering hope of an eagle.

The music is interspersed by narratives that guide the listener into this unique country, which is experiencing more than its fair share of HIV-Aids. It seems from this narrative that glues the songs together, that there is nothing but hope and joy even in the darkest of hours in the withering poverty of the Nkomazi region of South Africa where not only the darkest aspects of HIV Aids are felt, but where also the deepest joy is experienced in the fight to change not only this dire medical phenomenon, but also the withering way of life. Marula’s Shade also gives credence to the belief that didacticism in art—especially in music, which tends to shy away from social commitment—can be imparted to music with flair and also deeply felt joi de vivre. It is also hoped that this record will also succeed not only in being a teaching project but will also help to create the finds so badly needed to keep projects such as this going so that badly needed monies can be generated to educate those what seems to be a whole generation of those will be wiped off the map unless something like the Triad Project is successfully run and replicated where it is needed most.