SAM MATHE
Stimela Sase Zola
When I first heard Mbongeni Ngema’s Stimela Sase Zola I thought the song was about a train from Zola. I was already familiar with the notorious reputation of this neighbourhood situated deep in the heart of Soweto. And I thought the singer, being an outsider, was either naïve or foolhardy enough to have initiated a romantic relationship in a place full of dangerous, okapi-wielding tsotsis.
After all, it was not for nothing that this part of the most famous black neighbourhood in the world was nicknamed Kwa Mshayazafe – Zulu for ‘beat him until he dies’. As far as I was concerned the song was autobiographical and therefore I understood it in the literal sense.
You see, I grew up hearing stuff like Midnight Train To Georgia (Gladys Knight & The Pips), Wenyuk’ uMbombela (Miriam Makeba & Harry Belafonte), Stop That Train (Peter Tosh), Stimela (Hugh Masekela) and Shosholoza (Bayete) – to mention a few.
But years later when I stayed in Meadowlands and commuted daily to and from the city, I soon discovered, to my utter surprise, that there were no trains in Zola. I must have neglected the parts about walking down Commissioner Street, resplendent in Arrow shirt and Florsheim shoes and catching an E20 (taxi) at Carlton Centre – eSdididini – to Zola.
So after paying careful attention to the lyrics, it soon dawned on me that the train was meant to convey one and the same meaning as the Welcome Dover coal stove, the umbrella and the juicy, tasty marrow of a fried chicken. It’s a love song that reveals the genius of figurative speech as it’s informed by the language of courtship by the riverside in a bygone era. It’s also an expression of the artist’s brilliance as a songwriter.
A huge fan of mbaqanga in general and the Soul Brothers in particular, it’s no surprise that the organ player on Stimela Sase Zola is none other than Black Moses himself.
The result is a glorious beehive sound, joyous and mournful at the same time, an unmistakably township beat with a hint of Jimmy Smith in the fast lane.