
Bruce Ndlovu, Sunday Life Reporter
MARTIN Sibanda remembers the first time he went on stage without his erstwhile partner-in-song, Charles Ndebele.
This was back in 2011 and Ndolwane Super Sounds had just gone through a messy split that threatened to shake rhumba music’s foundations.
For years, to outsiders at least, the two Ndolwane frontmen had seemed like the picture of harmony, as they kept in perfect health the vision that was born in the dusty fields of Ndolwane, Bulilima District in the early 1990s. Now, it seemed, everything was on the verge of collapse.
Martin and Charles had gone their separate ways, transforming Ndolwane from a potent two-headed giant into what some feared were two tame twins that did not share the same vibrant beating heart.
Whenever he stepped on stage after that acrimonious split, Sibanda felt Ndebele’s absence. The mic was his and his alone now and with that, came a certain level of responsibility and loneliness.
“I remember even when I started to perform in shows as a solo artiste, because I always had Charles next to me, I could feel that there was something missing,” Sibanda told Sunday Life.
“I could just feel that there was some unfilled space here but I told myself I had to soldier on.”
For many, 2011 is the year that the rhumba pioneering group underwent its most drastic transformation, as it branched into Martin’s Ndolwane Super Sounds and Ndebele’s Ndolwane Super Sounds Amangwe Part 1. However, Martin remembers how the boys from Ndolwane had been haemorrhaging talent even from their earlier days.
The likes of Madala Boy for example, had been with Ndolwane when the group started building its name in rural Matabeleland, playing in shows around the region before they even had an album out. Develop Moyo, Collen Moyo, Hlanganani Moyo, Smetch Khuphe, Precious Nyathi, Obert Mvundla, Anderson Nkomo and Gallie Ncube are just some of the other names that graced the group in those heady early days.
The hand of time has not been kind to Ndolwane, with death and disagreements subtracting members from the group bit by bit over the last three decades. Sibanda, as the remaining champion of the Ndolwane brand, is reminded of all that has been lost when he steps on stage.
“I remember some moments. Of course, over the years you forget some things. There are things that others used to do that I still dearly miss now. My memories of our early days, for example, are divided because with the likes of Madala Boy, we did play together but parted ways before we could record an album.
There are some moments from that time that contributed a lot in building my career. Of course, at that time, we were young, so there was an element of trying to gauge each other’s strengths and sometimes there were a lot of arguments. But when I look back, it makes me think that some of those fights were not necessary but it also allows me to reflect just how far my career has come.
I also think of my time with my band mates in our recording era. The whole outlook of the group changed because there’s a vast difference between playing songs that are not yet recorded and songs that you have now given to the people. So, I miss that a lot and I miss them a lot. I remember that there are some things that we used to do when we were a complete group that we couldn’t anymore when the numbers were reduced. It felt like there were a lot of spaces whenever we would go on stage. I remember the first time we went on stage after the death of Abson, you could tell that there was something missing on that day,” he said.
Sibanda recalled the group’s early days, when they used to go around the country’s major recording labels, hawking off their demo tapes in hope that they would one day be signed. During those days, he said they learnt the value of perseverance as their demos were rejected three times by music executives who felt the boys from Ndolwane were not yet polished enough for the mainstream market.
“We started doing shows a long time before we had gone to the studio to record, so our foundation was always strong. We had a lot of music piled up before we started recording. We started playing a lot of shows, going to masses and introducing them to our sound.
“This was mainly because, back in those days, before you could go into the studio and record, you had to submit a demo tape and this meant that you had to go through a baptism of fire as they tested if you were good enough to release an album under a major label.
I remember we failed about three times, submitting demos. Each time they would advise us not to give up but to keep trying. After those three failures, we then recorded Africa and it came at a time when there were now some technological changes in the music industry.
We recorded that album in South Africa because in Zimbabwe, we had failed to record at the High-Density studios. We released that album that way because, you could now release albums in CD or cassette format and we were now educated about that process,” he said.
According to Sibanda, their sound became palatable to Zimbabwean record labels only after they had started earning recognition and support for an album that was made in South Africa.
“It was released in SA and we sent it to ZMC for release in Zimbabwe but they said they saw our album as a demo and they needed us to come to record it in studio back home. However, we had already done the whole album at that time and people were waiting for us. People were now aware of the brand and they had been waiting for our music for a long time. So, when we released that album and, in a way, it forced the will of ZMC because what we had packaged had massive support so the company in the end felt it had no choice but to release that album as it was. The support was massive.
“Our music spread from South Africa coming to Zimbabwe. We were the first group to record in South Africa and that on its own was significant because we were showing people that even in a foreign land you can do rhumba. There was a lot more access to resources in South Africa and a lot of people now felt that they could make it. I think that’s another way in which we changed rhumba in this country,” he said.
Ndolwane rose to prominence at a time when rhumba music was losing a lot of its stalwarts. As the likes of Solomon Skuza and Ndux Malax departed, Sibanda said they were motivated by fear that the region might lose the artistes that spoke to the needs of the people.
“When we entered the music scene, there were only a few artistes ahead of us we could look up to and those that were ahead, didn’t seem to have a lot of ideas about expanding the rhumba genre. Sure, they played for the people and usually that’s where it ended. When we came on the scene, our music, was about inspiring people and spreading a message in our community. We wanted to make the kind of music that would allow people to sit next to their children and, while listening to it, say, do you hear what this person is saying?
“We made this kind of music because we could not call them to stadiums and ask them to listen to the advice that we had for them. It was better if we put it in music. At that time, we were also introducing these ideas to younger musicians from Matabeleland because we felt that, our music was dying right in front of us. Solomon had died, Ndux had passed on, Khumbulani had died too. We wanted them to help us keep that music alive so that at least our region has a variety of musicians and we are also able to keep the music alive,” he said.
With such a big Zimbabwean expatriate community in South Africa, very often an impression has been created that the Ndolwane brand is more valuable in that country than it is at home. After all, Sibanda is mostly based there, popping in once in a while for gigs in Zimbabwe. To him however, the support he enjoys at home, mostly in rural areas, is more heartfelt and genuine.
“There’s a lot of support in South Africa and when we play shows in that country, we get a lot of support and people attend shows in numbers but I think this is mainly because of resources. Probably people based in SA can afford to come to our shows and pay for gig. However, I cannot say that there’s more support in SA than at home. Sometimes, it is not just about the numbers.
“What shows you the support you have is when you go to a venue and you find maybe 900 people but when you look outside, there are those people that have left their homesteads 10km away but are not able to come in because of a lack of funds. This shows you that, if these people had money, they would probably pay to watch me perform and that’s a great show of support to me,” he said.