I think it was Tino who said here that Nso people act as if Lamnso is the language spoken in heaven. Well, if that is the case, hopefully, when I get there and St Peter opens the gate, the very first thing I will say is ‘beri wo tata.”
I remember coming across “beri wo” for the first time in Form 2 when I read Kenjo Jumban’s “The White Man Of God.” A white priest who was manning a parish deep in Nso land was accosted by curious Christians the morning of his very first mass as he was leaving the sacristy. In their own way, they told him words of welcome.
The white priest whispered something into the ear of the catechist who whispered something back to him. The white priest then looked at the crowd of eager Nso people and said “beri wo” which means “thank you.”
Over the past few months, I have been having a new sort of love for my Nso people, and with good cause. From Mr Leo to Wan Shey to Tina Vernyuy, Nso people have been making us proud, and have also been making their mark in music on the Fallujah side of the Moungo, and thanks to them, I am able to distinguish Lamnso from every other spoken language of the grass fields.
I think Lamnso is a very beautiful language that has a certain nobility and rhythm and I find it very admirable how Nso people love and celebrate the language.
All that to say, there was perhaps no better impetus for me to write about the lady whose face is in the picture; Chili Wawaye.
I’ve known Chili for quite a few years now, but it wasn’t until recently that I really started listening to her music. I feel quite ashamed to admit to that, as for more than a long time, I had the opportunity to listen to her work and perhaps write about her.
I also think at PoiseSocial, and on other entertainment platforms in general, we tend to write a lot about pop and urban music and not shine a spotlight enough on artistes of the likes of Chili whom we can put into the category of traditional/ethnic musicians. Which is a shame because, when we look at it critically, they are the ones who do music which is closest to what was bequeathed to us by our ancestors. You may argue that they use foreign instruments in their compositions but still, it is not as adulterated as the more pop compositions we have.
That is why I was very happy when we did an article on Bonzyz, a rapper who raps almost exclusively in Limbum.
Chili, on the other hand, is in another league. Aside from one of her last two releases (Ova Don) that has a little bit of an Afro-urban feel to it, her songs have entirely been deeply rooted in traditional music. And to crown it all, she sing almost exclusively in Lamnso.
It is quite frightening when we think that people like Chili Wawaye are not as celebrated as the urban musicians of our day and time and that their songs are not receiving the massive airplay that others do. I am speaking specifically about grass field music.
We are actually blessed to have the likes of Chili, people born at the junction of the analogue and digital era, whom, though tagged modern are able to produce music that carry the complexity, rhythm and instrumentals of our beloved grass fields.
Too often, they are relegated to the cultural festivals organised by the ministry of Culture, the occasional annual cultural association meeting in Maryland, or to funerals. It is sad, actually because these people, young people like Chili are the custodians of our tradition. They are the last bridges linking the past and future of one important chess pieces of our cultural heritage, which is the music and by default, the language.
#WeProudOfWhoWeAre
- Wandji Wilfred . This article was first published in June 2019.