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| Ali (standing in the middle) and his band mates in Jimma, Western Ethiopia, 1973 | Courtesy ADDIS RUMBLE |
These article is originally published on Addis Rumble
Ali Birra is a living Oromo legend; singer, composer and poet, in 2013 he celebrates 50 years on the music scene of his native Ethiopia. Yet he has sacrificed much for his music; a nationalist and supporter of Oromo music, he has been imprisoned countless times and, also, wrongfully reported dead on more than one occasion, as Andreas Hansen reports.
During his career, Ali has not only been jailed dozens of times; he has also been reported dead more than once. First in the mid-70s, when the authorities in his home town of Dire Dawa told Ali’s father to travel to Addis Ababa to collect the corpse of his son. He found Ali asleep in the hotel, rather hungover from the previous night’s performance, but still very much alive. In the past decade, the rumours of Ali’s death surfaced again and in 2009 he was announced dead on Wikipedia. In late 2012 in Addis Ababa, Andreas Hansen met Ali – still alive and thriving – who told him that the untimely obituaries and imprisonments are the price he has had to pay for playing Oromo music and promoting Oromo culture.A Story Untold
The past decade has seen an implausible but well-deserved rediscovery of the astonishing Ethiopian music of the 1960’s and 1970’s. However, the majority of the attention has been given to Amharic music from Addis. One important legacy that has until now been left largely untold is the music of the Oromos; the largest ethnic group of Ethiopia at around 30 million people.
For
several decades from the mid-60s and onwards, Ali Birra was the most
prominent representative of modern Oromo music. He was part of a golden
generation of Ethiopian musicians, performing with the greatest artists
and orchestras of the time; but being Oromo he was always an outsider in
relation to the Amharic musicians of his time. Yet for many Oromos, he
was a hero, fighting their cause at a time where the promotion of Oromo
culture was illegal and singing in Oromo language banned.
Half A Century On
Ali
Birra left Ethiopia in 1984 and has since been back only sporadically,
but he has not been forgotten. Heading for lunch we tried in vain to
find a restaurant where devoted fans would not overwhelm Ali. Throughout
the day his phone was continually ringing with new and old friends
checking in, and while driving around Addis with Ali, we were met by a
continuous honking and passengers shouting, ’we love you Ali’ through
the car windows. This was Addis 2012 but felt more like driving around
with Fela Kuti in Lagos in the 70s.
Ali has returned home to Ethiopia to launch his own NGO, the Birra Children’s Education Fund.
He wants to give something back to Ethiopia and has started support
programmes for children in one school in Dire Dawa and one in Galamso in
West Hararge. ‘My father always told me that educated people know how
to fight for their rights and to respect the rights of others,’ Ali
explains. He now hopes to expand the programme to other schools around
the country. He has also come back to Ethiopia for musical reasons. In
2013, Ali is celebrating his 50-year anniversary on the music scene and
he is planning to commemorate this landmark with concerts in Addis and
at home turf in Dire Dawa, as well as with the release of one final record before retiring.
The Oromo Teacher
‘I
was lucky to be singer at a time with few Oromo singers around. I got
the chance to influence people and their thinking. To be a teacher. To
engrave my thoughts in people’s minds. The young Oromo musicians now are
tough but they have not achieved this yet,’ Ali tells me. And things
certainly were tough in Dire Dawa in the early 60s, when Ali aged
14 formed his first band Hiriyaa Jaalalaa, and soon after started
performing with the group Afran Qallo. Being an Oromo musician back then
was risky business. Singing in Oromifa was illegal, and the band
members handed out their records to people on the streets as no Oromo
music was allowed on the radio. 'We were very young and courageous at
that time,' Ali admits.
It
was at a concert with Afran Qallo that Ali earned himself his stage
name – Birra meaning ‘spring’ or ‘break of dawn’ in Oromifa – through
the singing of the ’Birra dha Barihe’ song. In 1964, the group was
invited to play in neighbouring Djibouti,
but the 11 band members were denied permission to leave Ethiopia and
had their instruments destroyed. They decided to split in smaller
fractions and travel anyway, but when Ali arrived in Djibouti, he was
arrested and detained for a month. On New Year’s Eve of 1964, Ali and
three of his band members returned to Ethiopia and the next day were
again arrested. Ali, now 16, spent six months in prison, jailed for
singing in his own language and celebrating his culture. ‘I still
remember it vividly. From that time on I knew that I wanted to fight for
the rights of my people,’ he recounts.
After
his release Ali was still detained on numerous occasions, sometimes for
weeks, sometimes for months, until he in 1966 left Dire Dawa for Addis.
But although he left Oromia and 20 years later left Ethiopia, Ali has
never stopped being a strong and outspoken Oromo advocate.
The Ali Birra Sound
While
there are many talented young Oromo musicians out there, none of them
have carved out a sound as unique as the one that characterises many of
Ali’s recordings from the 60s and 70s. This was a sound crafted under
rather peculiar circumstances. In 1966, when Ali Birra went to an
audition for Emperor Haile Selassie’s Imperial Bodyguard Band, he was
asked if he played any instruments, and replied that he played the oud. As they did not have one he was given a guitar, which he tuned like an oud. Thus, the inimitable Ali Birra sound was born.
He
has since tried to remain true to that sound. When I ask him about his
musical philosophy, he explains: ‘I believe in small incremental changes
to my music while staying faithful to its origins. I have tried to use
new technological means while respecting the past. When I left Ethiopia,
I was lucky to get the chance to study music in the US. It made me able
to better analyse music and its scales. At the same time I can play
many different instruments. Many new musicians today are only vocalists
or they can only play one instrument.’
Stories From The Palace
Ali
is full of anecdotes. Some of the finest ones originate in his
three-year spell with the Imperial Bodyguard Band. Ali confesses that he
enjoyed the prestige and fame related to the orchestra, but being a
young and idealistic Oromo musician in the Emperor’s band also posed
many challenges for Ali. One of the first times Ali clashed with palace
protocol was during an official visit by the Romanian President. When
the Emperor and his visitor strolled by the Band in the palace’s
hallway, all the band members were supposed to bow and lie down on the
ground. However, Ali was not aware of this etiquette, and stood staring
straight into the eyes of the Emperor. Ali was then taken to jail, but
when asked about his misstep, he told his superiors that as a Muslim he
was not allowed to bow for any human being.
Ali
admits that he was naïve back then: ‘There were so many cultural
differences between life in Dire Dawa and in Addis and I did not speak
Amharic very well.’ In 1969, Ali finally quit the Imperial Bodyguard
Band and for a few years he quit music as well. He worked as a water
machine operator on the railway between Ethiopia and Djibouti until he
in 1972 returned to Addis and to music.
The Disarmament
Ali’s
second stint as musician in Addis proved to be more successful than his
time in the Emperor’s band. He started performing again in Addis and
touring throughout Ethiopia.
Nevertheless,
Ali also had his difficulties this time around: ‘When I joined the Ibex
Band, I was disarmed my guitar. I was told that my guitar style did not
match their vocal so I was left with singing together with Mahmoud
Ahmed. At least, this gave me a bit more freedom to be a performer.’
Some of the more serious artistic restrictions came from the Derg
regime. ‘There was a lot of censorship during public concerts and the
majority of the songs we recorded had to include some praise of
socialism, Marxism or Leninism,’ he elaborates.
More Than Music
In
1984 Ali left Ethiopia. A few years earlier, he had met and married a
diplomat named Brigitta Alstrom, who was working at the Swedish Embassy.
When her posting in Ethiopia ended, she was transferred to Los Angeles
and Ali decided to follow his wife to the US. ‘My motivations for
leaving Ethiopia were mixed. I wanted to be with my wife, to escape the
harassment of the regime and to explore new opportunities abroad,’ he
tells me. In the US, Ali studied music theory at the university and used most weekends touring the US and Canada with fellow Ethiopian diaspora musicians. Diplomatic life later brought Ali to Saudi Arabia and Sweden, and he continued to perform and record music throughout this period. He now resides in Canada with his wife Lily.
Before
I part ways with Ali, I ask him to reflect over the biggest rewards
during his 50 years in music. His replies promptly: ‘The biggest victory
for my music and for me is that people after so many years still have
an interest in it. Even people from outside Ethiopia. But it also goes
beyond the music. Oromo music is much more than music. It is a struggle
and a freedom fight.’
By Andreas Hansen
By Andreas Hansen
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