THE GALE OF MUSIC By Sanni Kay Yusuf
Once I lived in a community. In front of my residence was an open field where football play and social events were in vogue.
One Saturday, while a funeral was rockily going on and musical sounds were hitting us hard in the head, I stepped out of the house for a fundamental obligation. Involuntarily, I spotted rejoicers dancing profusely in their own pool of sweats. At some point, the lyric changed and the dancers did the unprecedented. Very awful sight! Men and women, boys and girls were seen face one another in twos miming the vulgar-song. I couldn’t believe that humans (among whom were fathers, mothers, grandparents etc.) could be so insensitive that such “pack of rubbish” could be demonstratively danced to, in broad daylight light, for that matter, and in full glare of minors.
It was Wasiu Ayinde Marshall mentioning raw, the human genitals and how they are inserted into each other in bed. My ears were blown out as I astonishingly listened to the corrupted and corruptible sociopath. I could not but call the attention of a neighbour to the highly satanic nonsense. And I was told that the song had been released a long time before then. “Really?” I marvelled. He was so surprised that I didn’t know.
What is left of morality if such trash thrives in our society? Alhaji, for that matter! Shioooor!
A few weeks ago, I journeyed in a commercial vehicle for a crucial cause. Everyone was forcefully, unavoidably entertained with different musical albums – fuji, hip-hop etc. And the volume of the car stereo was on a seemingly deafening bass. To have myself consoled of the persevered discomfort, I turned on my phone data to romance with friends on social media. In a short while, I heard: “E ma ni problem o. O ma ni problem o. A ma ni problem o. Emi ati’e ma ni problem.” Fellow passengers who seemed to be relaxedly glowing in the flow of the frenzy also considered the song unworthy of a sane, serene atmosphere. “Iwo lo maa ni problem!” the curse instantly returned.
The likelihood of the above is the day’s order in this age. Say something, just anything (reasonable or preposterous), align it with danceable beats, you will become a quick hero with innumerable fans, and the young ones will enthusiastically yearn and crave to be as such. That is the dilemma of the time. The popular musician who adds no value to the society is considered a celebrity.
Our minors, the teens – the supposed morrow stars – have been irredeemably corrupted. Now that a 5-year old boy will face a girl of his contemporary and demonstratively sing: “sare wa gba cucumber; a ni mo ni o wa je banana”, is the society not doomed? Is our future not in gloom. Any assurances of moral boom? Aren’t we apparently living in a dreadful, deadly den?
Despite the obvious anomalies that come with music, people still passionately embrace it. The videos say it all. Partakers smoke marijuana; dancers dress lunatically etc. Aren’t these enough a reason to be rational and trash the triumph of the gale of music?
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