While trying to make sense of all this, the one thing that comes to my mind is the song, “Kasongo ye ye ee, mobali na ngai!”
If you’re an avid TikToker or frequently find yourself scrolling through Facebook and Instagram during downtime, chances are you’ve come across this meme. It’s often deployed in situations of confusion or dilemma, where one is trying to make sense of a perplexing scenario.
“Kasongo ye ye” it turns out, is actually a song by Orchestra Super Mazembe, a renowned Kenyan soukous band with roots in Zaire (now the Democratic Republic of Congo). Formed in 1967 under the name Super Vox and led by Longwa Didos Mutonkole, the group relocated to Nairobi in 1974 and adopted the name Orchestra Super Mazembe.
The band achieved significant success and some of the group’s hit songs include Shauri Yako, Bwana Nipe Pesa Samba and of course, Kasongo. Lovy Longomba, nephew to Awilo Longomba, the famous Congolese musician well known to Nigerians, was a band member and did the vocals. In 2006, they renamed themselves Orchestra Bana Mazembe, after most of the original members had died.
Their vibrant performances and unique sound made them one of East Africa’s most celebrated musical acts during the 1970s and 1980s. Despite disbanding in 1985, their music continues to influence artists across the region.
“Kasongo” is a song about a woman calling her husband whose name is Kasongo, and pleading with him to return to their marriage. Originally sung in Lingala, a Bantu language spoken in the northwest of the Democratic Republic of Congo, the lyrics “Kasongo ye ye ee, mobali na ngai, Kasongo nga nawe oo, zonga libala ee” translate to “Kasongo, my husband, Kasongo, I am dying, come back to the marriage.” The song was especially popular among East Africans but, like many popular songs, eventually faded into oblivion.
The resurgence in popularity of the song “Kasongo” was propelled by its viral spread on social media platforms like TikTok, where users created content inspired by its catchy rhythm. This trend emerged after Ugandan pastor Aloysius Bugingo sang it to his congregants at the House of Prayer Ministries in Makerere during a sermon.
Pastor Bugingo’s rendition quickly became a trend, similar to how the Nigerian skit maker Brain Jotter popularized Mike Ejeagha’s song “Ka Esi Le Onye Isi Oche” through the “Gwo Gwo Gwo Ngwo” dance challenge, leading to a resurgence of interest in the classic tune.
In 2024, Kenya witnessed a significant wave of protests, predominantly led by tech-savvy Gen Z activists, in response to a proposed finance bill that included tax hikes on essential items such as bread and diapers. These proposed taxes exacerbated the already high cost of living, fueling widespread public discontent. The protests were largely organized through social media platforms, with young Kenyans utilizing TikTok and other channels to mobilize and educate citizens about the implications of the bill.
The initially peaceful demonstrations escalated due to heavy-handed police responses, resulting in clashes and fatalities. Despite President William Ruto’s eventual withdrawal of the contentious tax proposals, the protests evolved into a broader movement against political corruption and the perceived detachment of politicians from the hardships faced by ordinary citizens. Amid this backdrop, the phrase “Kasongo ye ye,” gained traction as a satirical nickname for President Ruto.
The nickname “Kasongo ye ye” became emblematic of the public’s frustration, serving as a tool for political satire and commentary. The widespread use of this meme as Ruto’s nickname, caught the President’s attention; he was even recorded dancing to the “Kasongo” song during a New Year’s Eve event, indicating his awareness of it and perhaps an attempt to embrace or neutralize the satire. Kenya’s Kasongo is the equivalent of Nigeria’s T-Pain.
The “Kasongo ye ye” phenomenon exemplifies how traditional art forms can be revitalized to articulate contemporary political dissent, reflecting the dynamic interplay between culture and socio-political movements.
This trend underscores the enduring power of music as a vehicle for social commentary. Fela Anikulapo-Kuti dedicated his entire life and career to critiquing governance and advocating for change, utilizing the enormous platform offered by his music. Similarly, Kenyan artists have utilized songs, riddles, and proverbs to critique governance and advocate for change, especially during electoral periods.
The “Kasongo ye ye” meme continues this tradition, demonstrating how cultural artifacts can be adapted to address modern issues, thereby fostering a sense of unity and shared identity among citizens.
Moreover, the phenomenon highlights the role of digital platforms in amplifying these expressions. The widespread sharing and adaptation of “Kasongo ye ye” memes illustrate how technology facilitates the rapid dissemination of political satire, enabling broader participation in civic discourse. This convergence of traditional art forms and modern technology exemplifies the evolving landscape of political expression, where cultural heritage and contemporary tools intersect to challenge and critique the status quo.
In a landmark decision, Nigeria’s Supreme Court recently nullified the October 5, 2024, local government elections in Rivers State, citing violations of the Electoral Act by the Rivers State Independent Electoral Commission (RSIEC). This ruling effectively removed all serving local government chairmen. The court also dismissed Governor Sim Fubara’s appeal challenging the legitimacy of the House of Assembly led by Speaker Martin Amaewhule, ordering the immediate resumption of legislative activities under Amaewhule’s leadership.
Furthermore, the Supreme Court reinstated a Federal High Court judgment that restrained the Central Bank of Nigeria (CBN) and the Accountant General of the Federation from releasing funds to the Rivers State government until compliance with court orders is achieved.
This sequence of events has significantly disrupted the political dynamics in Rivers State, particularly between Governor Fubara and his erstwhile political godfather, Nyesom Wike, turning over almost all the entire machinery of government to Wike. Wike’s residence in Abuja became a hub of celebration as allies and supporters gathered to acknowledge the court’s decisions, reflecting his enduring political clout.
The Supreme Court’s recognition of the faction loyal to Wike within the Rivers State parliament has left Governor Fubara vulnerable to potential impeachment. In response, individuals of Ijaw descent, such as Asari Dokubo, along with groups like the Ijaw National Congress (INC) and the Ijaw Youth Council (IYC), have issued warnings about the potential consequences of efforts to remove one of their own from power. They cautioned about the likelihood of a breakdown of law and order.
The unfolding scenario in Rivers State is to say the least disturbing and raises concerns about the broader implications for Nigeria’s democratic processes. As I pointed out in my prior essay, Wike is the one with the big mouth, but the long string could be traced all the way to Aso Rock.
Today, the political activist, who was once driven to refugee status in a foreign land, has become the “Oga at the top” and is deploying every anti-democratic force in his toolkit to muscle everyone into submission. The consolidation of power and marginalization of opposition voices is almost total. Our nation is being steered toward totalitarian rule and a one-party state. While trying to make sense of all this, the one thing that comes to my mind is the song, “Kasongo ye ye ee, mobali na ngai!”
Osmund Agbo is a medical doctor and author. His works include, Black Grit, White Knuckles: The Philosophy of Black Renaissance and a fiction work titled The Velvet Court: Courtesan Chronicles. His latest works, Pray, Let the Shaman Die and Ma’am, I Do Not Come to You for Love, have just been released.
