Today I’ve been listening to Culoe De Song’s 2009 album “Giant Leap” and it took me to an imaginary village deep into the virgin, unexplored forests of the Mt Kenya. A place where a rare Bantu tribe of indigenous Kenyans, with a unique never-before-heard language coexists oblivious of the thievery and turmoil in the civilized world.
The women in this village are momos. They wear sisal skirts around their waist, similar to those worn by Isikuti dancers. Their boobs hang carelessly on their stomachs and have to be held closely when she blows a fire to burn new wood. The vagina kisses the soil beneath the woman when she sits. Every morning the women of this tribe paint their faces with the ash of the Baobab tree; their traditional makeup: One straight line down the bridge of the nose and two beautifully curved lines extending from the side of the nose, down the cheekbones and towards the ear lobe.
Everyday after making food for their men and children, they gather around a bonfire during sunset and make music with their voices and rhythm by throwing dried maize on Gitaruru. They jump simultaneously and shake their shoulders to some indigenous choreography. The younger girls rhythmically shake calabashes filled with pebbles while sitting around the fire; their flat bare chests shining against the fire before them. They sing softly, almost hum, creating some form of background for the main voices of the older women.
The men watch while conversing in low tones; perhaps discussing the politics of the forest: The lions have moved to the other side of the forest; a storm is coming; the monkeys have been looking at the women suggestively etc… The men of this tribe are very manly; so much that the concept of spooning or foreplay is foreign to them. They are macho, dark, and have strong bodies. They walk with their wooden spears; their most valuable tool used for hunting, fishing at the nearby river, and supporting themselves when standing.
Here, men wear only one piece of attire, a nicely rolled piece of snakeskin with two strings tied at the lower back. That round piece of dried but soft skin of a rare snake sheathes the manhood but leaves the balls responding effectively to gravitational force.
But that piece of skin is not just a sheath for the manhood; it’s a symbol of the bravery of the men. Getting one requires the man to leave the village, crawl the depths of the forest in search of the most beautiful, most lethal, and most rare snake. He slays the snake, skins it, and begins the nerve-wrecking process of drying the skin near fire at night and under the sun during day; all while beating it carefully until it becomes a relatively soft piece of his only attire. Then, and only then, does he return to the village a bonafide man; a hero.
The men remain guided by an unspoken set of tribal rules and taboos that govern the sharing of conjugal rights. Children belong to the tribe and everyone is their father. Wife sharing is a common, highly regarded, and highly encouraged practice that enhances the virility and sexual satisfaction of the community.
The tribe sleeps at dust and awakes at dawn; when the birds begin to chirp, and the lions in the forest begin to roar. They sleep in closely aligned grass-thatched ‘rooms’ that have walls made of fresh banana leaves and have an ever-burning fire in the middle for warmth. At dawn, the men hunt for Dik Diks, hare, and fish in the nearby river before the women and children head for the common morning bath at the river…
Anyways enough with the wild imaginations
In my books, Culoe De Song is among the finest South African producers and musical artists. His two albums, Giant Leap and Washa, plus that Webaba EP with two songs are blowing my mind
[SIZE=1]Suffice it to say I am having some kind of a dry spell but am as straight as a straight line[/SIZE]
This here is my current favorite track
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9OIWs8hY5xw
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