Bush Doctor (Reggae in London, part 2)
Can Africans break into it? Irene Madonko talks to Bush Doctor.
It’s hard to swallow but true: whilst a lot of reggae music is about Africa, there are not that many African reggae artists in the UK. We trawled the local reggae circuit and met two London-based Africans pioneering reggae here: Nigerian Afrikan Simba (Part 1) and Sierra Leonean Bush Doctor (Part 2). South African reggae star Lucky Dube (Part 3) also spoke to us whilst on his European tour and gave a useful insight on the challenges facing Africans who want to make it in reggae.
What’s clear about these artists is that they regard reggae as not just another brand of music, but as a way of life embodying Africanism. Speaking to them about their experiences as reggae artists, it’s hard not to notice that reggae music in London is not the easiest for Africans to break into and that this music does not appeal to young people, although it has the potential to do so.
Bush Doctor (real name Emerson Njawah) launched his career in the nineties. He first released his albums ‘Shine’, ‘Who Like Me’ and then ‘Serious Time’ which got him a deal with EMI in the Ivory Coast. ‘Serious Time’ proved a best seller in West Africa. Last year he released ‘Jah Way’ with the Jet Star label. We tackled him about why it’s still not easy for Africans here to crack into reggae, how he made it and where the reggae brand is headed.
Irene Madonko : Why did reggae music appeal to you?
Bush Doctor : I liked reggae music because it was about righteousness. When I was growing up, apart from the struggle in Sierra Leone at the time, there was also a struggle in my life. My dad left my mom and it was not easy growing up in a compound without him. Although I enjoyed other music like hi-life, there was more to life than just dancing and partying. Reggae addressed serious issues.
IM : Is that why you decided to become a reggae singer?
BD : When I was about 21, I was thinking about becoming a doctor, but I knew my dad could not afford university fees although he wanted to. So I decided to become a musician. My parents were very strict, and weren’t too keen for me to go out. But one day I went to this big competition, I lied to my parents about where I was going. I performed there and my picture came out in the newspaper. My parents were shocked to see my picture.
IM : Was that your first break?
BD : Not really. After that competition, I began doing dancehall tracks all over the country. I put together an album called ‘Who nor Like We?’ But it was a bit messy, the sound was bad and I had to re-work on it.
IM : What were the typical challenges you faced when starting up in Africa?
BD : Although this was the nineties, there was no equipment, no proper studios and no promoters. You had to do everything yourself. You had to believe in yourself.
IM : Is that why you came to the UK?
BD : The war in Sierra Leone drove me away. I then went to Guinea Conakry, where I recorded my first real album, ‘Serious Time.’ I then went to Ivory Coast and then the UK.
IM : What challenges did you face when starting up in the UK?
BD : The UK had all the technology and studios, unlike Sierra Leone. But the promoters and people here in the UK didn’t seem to know what they were doing – they wanted to deal with RnB and sell albums quickly.
IM : How were you received by other reggae artists, especially the Jamaicans?
BD : I knew the scene here in the UK would be dominated by them, and I knew that they would find it difficult to accept me. They’d say, ‘Africans are not like reggae people,’ because at the time, most Africans were into pure dancing stuff like Papa Wemba and Koffi Olimide. I started performing at festivals and at shows within the Sierra Leonean community. But they’ve just started recognising me as serious. Now I’m working with Jamaicans like Jet Star.
IM : Which African reggae artists do you know here?
BD : I know artists like Afrikan Simba, Lion from Angola and Kush.
IM : Why are they still so few African reggae artists here in the UK?
BD : It’s because of indoctrination. Most Africans are just operating on the surface – they don’t go deeper in. The white man says ‘left’, and they go left, or ‘down’, and they go down. Africans aren’t aware of the struggle – the Marcus Garvey struggle, even this side. The Rastas are aware, and Jamaicans are aware of the struggle.
IM : Is reggae losing its appeal to young people?
BD : Young people see the bling, cars, RnB and all that stuff, but reggae is saying ‘Leave that vanity, let’s go back to Africa,’ – and young people don’t want that. The other day I saw a young black girl on the bus and I said to her, ‘Hi African princess.’ She said to me, ‘You Rasta’s think all of us are from Africa!’. I said, ‘Where are you from?’ and she replied, ‘My mom!’ Now, if her mom had taught her African values, she would not have reacted that way. But this place won’t stay like this forever: they’ll come a time when young people will know the truth. It will be sad when they realise that they’ve been deceived for over 300 years.
IM : What’s the future for Africans in reggae?
BD : In the next 20 – 30 years if more people like us come out, they’ll be more Africans singing reggae. If we go back to Africa, build studios and small black consciousness schools and educate them, they’ll be more African reggae musicians.