Those Were The Days I: DDC Mlimani Park

So – let’s rock!

From now on, one day of the week will be reserved for a session of “dansi-class”, in a series aimed at getting you all acquainted with East Africa’s (specifically Tanzania’s) rich musical history. And of course, delving into musical history means delving into political history – pretty likely we’ll come across a range of events that shaped the past of this fascinating country, stumble upon socio-cultural phenomena and expand our vocabulary of Kiswahili.

As you can see, the language of instruction will be English. My other blog-posts will still be in Dutch, but I figured it’d be cool if I could also get my international friends aboard, as well as all those interested in (the history of) Muziki wa dansi, the genre that rocked the Swahili coast between the 60’s and 80’s of the 20th century.

I’ll kick off by highlighting a band which has already been mentioned in post #4. They were perhaps Tanzania’s most popular dansi group during the genre’s heyday in the 1980s and boy, do they still know how to set the roof on fire: DDC Mlimani Park Orchestra.

Formed in 1978, Mlimani Park soon established itself as Tanzania’s leading popular dance music band. At the time, some 25-30 groups were rocking the clubs and dance halls of Dar es Salaam five nights a week, with Mlimani Park usually attracting a thousand-people audience while playing at their residence venue on a Saturday night. Initially, this residence was the Mlimani Club located in the suburb of Mwenge. However, when the club owners (Tanzania Transport and Taxi Services) went bankrupt in 1983, the band came under the auspices of the Dar es Salaam Development Corporation (DDC). All the dansi bands around that time were affiliated with a diverse range of state-run or private organisations. Most musicians worked for these organisations as employees, and in turn, the employers would sponsor them, investing in instruments and arranging spaces for the band to practice and perform.

Each band has its own, distinct style of music and performance, as well as a particular way in which their audience dances to their songs. With dansi, a band’s performance really revolves around audience participation. Interestingly, the dancing is taken as part of the song’s meaning. The dancing style which a band is associated with, is called mtindo. To each band, the mtindo serves as a second name, a nickname which it is affectionately known by – think Arsenal as The Gunners. Mlimani Park’s mtindo is called Sikinde.

Ah, well… let’s get on with the songs alright, shall we? A German called Werner Graebner has established himself as the leading (European) dansi authority, a walking encyclopaedia as far as East African popular music is concerned. And guess what: it’s looking quite likely I will meet with him on Zanzibar next week! Anyway, he has provided a great deal of info on the history of the various bands and their songs. The following I quote from his contribution to an East African music enthusiast's website:

---Contemporary Tanzanian songs mostly deal with social relationships and urban life in general. A love theme, or the relationship of the sexes, may be at the outset of a song, yet they seldom follow the line of fulfilled or unrequited love so common in Western popular musics. Instead, they tend to reflect on the wider social sphere which these relationships are a part of and talk about the changes brought about by the material conditions of urban life:

The title of Mtoto Akililia Wembe is a proverb: "If a child cries for the razor-blade, give it to him", which means, a child has to make it’s own experiences, but don’t forget to educate it on the dangers or the truth of a matter. "Our sister, you were already married. Because of your greediness you have fooled around with your marriage and left your children. You said you wanted a man who could be useful in your life, to get you a car and a house. We have warned you before, this man is a cheat. He has had other women, we see them in the streets everyday. They go on public buses, have neither a car nor a simple hut. Don’t cry now, it was you who said you wanted a husband who would be useful in your life."


Nalala kwa Taabu (I sleep in distress) deals with the problems of poverty and feeding one’s family. In Ubaya (Bad character) the singer reproaches the behavior of his brother who boasts about his meanness and wants to quarrel with him. Muhiddin Maalim Gurumo, the lead singer on both songs, lives up to his name - gurumo means ‘a roaring voice, like a lion’s or thunder’ - with his singing style. But, he says, this is not only a matter of natural voice, the way of giving almost each note or syllable a melody of its own derives from his studies of the singing style of older Zaramo musicians.


In Neema a problem between the lovers arises when the former husband and father of her children returns into the woman’s life. The singer is trying to understand the problematic situation, but he cannot give her up. The poetic language and the outstanding arrangement made Neema one of Mlimani’s greatest successes. Two years in a row, in 1985 and 1986, the listeners of Radio Tanzania voted it song of the year.---


Right, that might just be enough for today! In the next weeks, I hope to present some more of my own findings, instead of having to rely heavily on the work of others. I’m still in the process of learning about the bands, the songs, and the scene in general. These weekly Those were the Days posts are meant just to show you my journey and share some of Tanzania’s musical gems with you – my friends!

Finally, I’d like to draw your attention once again to the Tanzania Heritage Project, an awesome initiative started by my friend Rebecca Corey. Our aim is to preserve and digitise over 100,000 hours of authentic Tanzanian music, stored in the national archives. For more info, check the link on the right.

Pamoja kwa muziki – together for the music.