Is this your first visit to Scandinavia?
Not at all, I have already been to Bergen, Helsinki and Oslo this summer, and I’m back for more Scandinavian dates. I did also play the massive Roskilde Festival back in 2004 with my last album.
Where do you live when you are not on tour?
I live at home in Bamako, Mali. I do have a small flat in Paris but I can’t bear to be away from home for too long.
Why did you become a musician? And do you have any professional musical training?
As my granmother was a great singer, my mother sang at weddings when she was still very young. And at baptisms. I used to go along with her. So I acquired a taste for singing pretty quickly. Now, at the age of ten or twelve she left me with the family. She left to do little jobs. Because even if she sang, that wasn’t her profession. So she went to do little businesses, in Senegal, in Ivory Coast, here and there in neighbouring countries. I stayed behind. I was the mother, I was the father, at the age of 13 I was already head of the family. And that’s what has given me strength in my life. It gave me strength because I became used to…I learned very early how to be responsible.
So when I was thirteen, my mother would leave us with a little money, and we would manage with that. When the money was all spent, this is what I did. I would go out, I’d wait…I’d wait until I heard a djembe…tama tama tama! I ran and went there. I would throw myself in the middle of the crowd and sing. When I opened my mouth…wow! People would give me coins. They’d give me money. Left and right I’d pick up money. I’d put it in my pocket and run back home. I’d go to the market and buy things, food, spices and stuff. I’d bring all that home and make a meal for my brothers and sisters.
That’s how I started to sing. It wasn’t just to sing, but when you’re alone, without mother or father…sometimes I would shut myself away. I would sing to console myself. I had no mother on whose shoulder I could rest my head for consolation. There were no stories at bedtime. So I sang. I cried a lot, I cried, I cried, I sang, I sang. I sang to comfort myself. Then I’d take courage and come out. Because all my brothers and sisters were there. I was like their mother. I was like their father. I’d wipe away my tears. I didn’t want anyone to see my tears. I’d come out and then bet busy and run about left and right.
One day, when my mother came back from a trip, she came back to find that I had clothed all her children in brand new clothes. A lovely meal had been prepared. I’d taken some rice. I’d taken some meal. Everything was there in the house. She was astonished! “But Oumou! Where did you find all of this?” I answered, ”But mum, I sing now. I earn plenty of money in the street.” She started to cry. “That’s incredible,” she said. “It’s suffering that has forced you to become a singer.” It’s true that it has to be in the blood too, because my mother is a singer. “But it’s suffering which has lead to my daughter becoming a singer by force.” She cried. It was a cry of joy because she was happy to see her children well clothed. By me. But then, it was great. I’m happy.
How were you received as a young singer?
The idea at the start, when I released my first ever cassette…I had something inside. To begin with I wanted to encourage my mother. To thank her for having such a strong character. And then, in doing that I also wanted to encourage all women. Because the basic idea was that even if you were a woman, you could still be someone. That was it. I really wanted to convey that message. To encourage women in general. My mother and then womanhood. Because women had this idea that they had to stay in the shadow of their men, you see, and be with them all the time. I said, “No! You can even be equal.” Not beating the breast and saying I’m the toughest woman. No, no, no. But just being yourself, having dignity! You see. That’s it. It was encouraging. In my first album, I incited women to do any kind of work they wanted. I even said, “Why not become a policewoman.” It was very very very frowned upon. In the song I said, “a women can be a policewoman. You can be a law officer. You can be a soldier. You can say no to polygamy. You can say no to forced marriage.” It was very badly received by certain people. But it also reaped plenty of applause.
How are female musicians generally received in Africa?
I helped make it acceptable for women to play a dominant role in music and culture in general, and we helped develop a style of music that incorporated modern and traditional styles, making it more relevant to the next generation while respecting our heritage.
I think they realise that what we’ve done is open the door for them and with someone like myself who has had success worldwide, they know that it’s possible for them to take the message around the globe. With things like the internet the local has become the global.
Where did you initially get the chance to perform?
As I said already, I used to go along with my mother when I was very young where she’d perform at weddings, baptisms and so on.
Do you like any other instrument besides singing?
I love the kamelngoni, and today my player Benego is really the best player in the world. Truly. He’s the best, I’d even go so far as to say, of all time. Because really and truly God gave him fingers that when it resonates, it resonates, you know.
It was the instrument of the hunters. In fact it was the hunters who created the ngoni. But then there weren’t any instruments…there was nothing for the youth. There were only the drums. And the youth couldn’t dance whilst a warrior was playing. A youth can’t come and dance in their midst, because it was just the hunters amongst themselves. It’s a closed society. So the youth thought and thought. They looked at their instruments. They wanted to create the same thing but with more trebly sounds, that’s to say, you can play rock, you can play everything with these instruments. For example, you can do everything with a kamelengoni. And if you substitute that same ngoni with a donsongoni, it’s restrictive you can only play with a donsongoni. Nothing else. But they tried to make the kamelengoni with other thinner strings so that there’s plenty of sound. Because the youth needed that to have fun. And then, they began to get organised amongst themselves. They picked up their ngoni. They even gave it their name. It’s the ‘Kamelengoni’. The ‘Kamelés’ are the youth. So they gave their own name to the ngoni to differentiate between the donsongoni and the kamelengoni.
Why do you think that your music has become so popular both in Africa and the rest of the world?
What we play is the traditional music from a region in the South of Mali called Wassoulou. It has a strong and hypnotic beat and talks about different aspects of the life. When western audiences listen to it they sometimes say that my music is funky, but for us it’s our traditional music, it existed for a long time before the funk. I am open to all sorts of influences and we have foreign musicians such as Will Calhoun, Magic Malik, Pee Wee Ellis on the album but of course my roots are Wassoulou and I’m extremely proud of my culture and my people. Even those who listen to my music to dance and enjoy themselves will hear the message on some level, even if they don’t know it. The music is part of our culture. The music accompanies all the important moments of our lives, we are born into music and music is what we do best. The songs have a message that European audiences can´t understand but the joy of my music is always there. The music arouses sensations and can communicate on its own.
Also, with things like the internet the world has become a smaller place and people have access to a much wider range of cultures than ever before, so many are much more open to other cultures and are much more likely to encounter it than was the case in the past.
Is it common with female musicians in Africa?
I’m not sure if my career could be considered typical of any Malian musician, male or female, but I can say that female musicians have become widely respected at home and around the world, and that things are still always improving, for that I am very proud to have been a part of.
What kind of problems have you encountered during your career, especially being a female musician in the competition from especially male musicians?
I think I’ve coped well with success. I tried to be myself and to stay close to womanhood, but there were plenty of critics. “What’s she on about? Why is she talking about forced marriage? Why is she denouncing polygamy?” There was all that, but it was very minor compared to all the success. I definitely feel warmth and love from the Malian people and it makes me very proud.
Malian people tend to listen to what the signer is actually trying to say, but at the same time they like to listen to music for enjoyment. I make sue of that fact that I know that men really like my music, and one of our proverbs says, “If you really like your friend, you must tell him the truth.” There. I knew men really liked me, so I often take advantage of that to slip messages in, because I like them very much as well.
It is said that you and your music is a big source of inspiration for African women. What are your thoughts on that?
The idea at the start, when I released my first ever cassette…I had something inside. To begin with I wanted to encourage my mother. To thank her for having such a strong character. And then, in doing that I also wanted to encourage all women. Because the basic idea was that even if you were a woman, you could still be someone. That was it. I really wanted to convey that message. I wanted to launch that message. To encourage women in general. My mother and then womanhood. Because women had this idea that they had to stay in the shadow of their men, you see, and be with them all the time. I said, “No! You can even be equal.” That’s what was so successful…boom! I never expected it. I only wanted women to be sure of themselves. That was my aim, my struggle. Because I’d seen that my mother was sure of herself. And she helped me to be sure of myself too, in suffering. So that was the aim. It was unbelievable. The letters of congratulation, of encouragement just fell form the sky. Everywhere!
Things are definitely improving, but we’ve got to keep up the struggle until everybody (man and woman) is free from inequality.
Thank you for your time.
