No sooner had I made that point and I rendezvoused with my soulmates and original founder members of Impromptu at the Kilimajaro shopping complex on the northern end of Gaborone: basis, Phillip 'Mosco' Modise, alto saxophonist, Chedza Fani, drummer, Phillip Mhlanga standing in for 'Kgwanyape' Montshiwa, and I standing in for 'Jomo' Chawilane the keyboardist. Only Morolong Morolong was missing, presumably because he had travelled to 'Mantshwabise' to bask and try his luck at business there. Mike 'Malombo' Mmereki turned up in his lorry to inform us that he had attended Joe Manguba's funeral. He remarked: Ba a felela jaanong di-Metronome. He was referring to that 1960s big band that introduced the Bechuanaland Protectorate, fast growing into modern Botswana', to live interpretations of 'jazz' arrangements of the late 1940s and 50s.
I will be excused for referring to most of them only by their last names, though I am confident that I do have their full names on articles that I have written previously.
Saxophonist Jake Sibiya is still very much alive as are trumpet player, Bra Sam, trombonist and drummer, Uncle 'Hippo' Mothopeng and the versatile entrepreneur, Gale Letsatle who played - contrary to musical custom - trumpet and the saxophones.
(I say that because the trumpet requires that the player force his lips into the inside of the mouthpiece whereas the player wraps his lips around the mouthpiece of the saxophone. So, the trumpet lips harden on the outside, whilst the saxophone lips harden on the inside, making it that much more difficult to master both instruments).
Saxophonist, Percy Xobo died about five years ago, and guitarist, Box Moncho, and double bassist, Razor, more recently. Clarinetist, Rangwane Tholo Molefhe, and trumpet player, J. Momoti, decades ago, and now, trombonist, Joe Manguba.
It is shocking that though Botswana boasts such a glorious heritage of reed and brass players that the country has failed to develop a real hard tradition of horn playing.
For all intents and purposes, the horns are treated only as adornments of the music, rather than leading voices.
Evidently, there has been little or no transference of the skills of horn playing from the first generation to the contemporary players. There has been no mentoring.
Worse still, the older generations left no recordings and original compositions from which the modern generations should benefit. I can only guess that this discontinuity in the transfer of skills and history results from overwhelming power of commercialisation and technology over the modern generations who seem quiet willing to let the computers to do the work in the quest for quick monetary returns.
The results have been disastrous. Very few of the musicians can play anything at all, although there are a few heartwarming exceptions. Most of them are deaf. They talk too much about things they know nothing about. But worst of all, they have not been trained in the craft of listening. So they make it almost impossible to communicate, even when you want to warn them; o tla wela mo mosimeng. The result: one o two noisy CDs and nothing to follow up! On the other hand, it may very well be that the older generations failed to build the community centres where they could volunteer to pass on their skills and knowledge to the young musicians. That is the height of selfishness. Ke boloi. Music, by its very nature, must be shared.
Go well, Manguba. Hopefully, your passing will prompt the modern generations to realise just how far this music comes from, and to respect and seek ownership of that heritage.
