FOUNTAIN OF SOULS WARFARE NIGHT: A REASSERTION OF THE INVALUABLE AFRICAN REALITIES AND MUSICAL BREATH--WESTERNERS, PEASE! Just as yes/no questions challenge the validity of a predication and also negation all rejects it, Alpha and Omega Fountain of Souls Ministries, which Church my solace is absolutely sought and virtually all my religious skepticism certainly suspended and unmistakably diluted, has, in her Septembers Night of Spiritual Warfare, which was for this time an ever thrilling night of praise, tenaciously (and even completely so) reasserted the original (not imitated) applicability indigenous to Africa and Nigeria, Rivers States Ikwerre precisely. You know, Africa and Nigeria has, as I have earlier stated in my most recent article here on Facebook paying content attention to her musical space, some eco-friendly, dignified, spirit-building, I can say, structures articulated in her musical domain--and this is so echt. Not the ignorantly adopted Westerners (the borrowed robes) for musics sake! This Fountain Ministries has rekindled the breath of Africa with her songs, sung by her members, which all resonated the spirit of the African Christianity. The congregation at that praise night, three and a half nights ago, was sent captivated when Solution and David, a man whose musical style drove the reggae vehicle to follow closely along the Christian lane--a real African!--was invited to the stage. He went, sang and conquered the willing soul of virtually everybody, if not all, as he/she in a dance fashion stood to welcome into the mind the sweetness of his God-qualifying reggae song sung in Christian colouration. In short, everybodys tail, if humans really had one, wagged in accordance with the tone and rhythm of this music of his, Jesus is a Winner Man. For surely Solution and David, as fondly called, is an embodiment of one talented in Christ. As if that was not enough, and of course was not, He came again with Lift him up. As he rendered this song as elegantly furnished as a real renaissance reggae man, I was made to see--indeed I am generally wont to do so--the heartbreaking beauty of the African sensibilities sincerely represented. In fact, by this beauty, I think I am slain suddenly. He ended up not only getting me figuratively annoyed but also provoking my spirit into an intensified worship; for I tell you, only his song could make for a revival of thousands of souls as could logically be ascertained from the hearty movements of the audience--the spirit moved. That is Africa for you! He did hardly trace the likes of Clurkin, Moen, mention them, who sing to the suitability of their own weather, not ours. My nerves stretched once again much more strongly and continued doing so with no hope of returning as if in their elastic limits when Blessing Chinah and co., in their voices which asked everyone (particularly me) to defend his ability to dance and worship, thundered the house with a nice native song, Ogwusinwo...ojinwom monu. A mere glimpse into the lyrics would as good as evoke anyone into endless tears; but thank God they never did, though I was on the verge. The song penetrated all bones, arteries, veins and capillaries and caused the music of the wind to provoke the silent stars of that night. Atmosphere became tensed and charged with higher spirit as the song readily tripped off the tongue. I was not a little shocked when I overheard my National Youth President who sat beside me speak in tongue, and a further glance around me helped me to notice a great number of people doing same. There were typically Towdah, Yadah and Shaba praises (sacrificial, lifting-of-hands, and shout praises respectively). There sing-song voices, one led the song pleasantly and the other chorused it accordingly, coerced the enemy kingdom into a much muted affair. If there had been any perception of an ogre, I strongly believe that that song would have threatened it much more so and even into extinction. They had no sooner sung this song than Rosalyn Nlerum came to destroy the peoples inabilities to dance and challenged them into doing so by her charming song, Nneme magwu bu nneme magwu.... I was able to identify even the former National Youth President as he danced in accordance with the realm and tone of this music, strengthening his bones and massaging his muscles. The pastors themselves were too helpless to resist every dance step; they could not help stopping to dance. I obviously witnessed their shoulders striding to the instructions of the the music. She, immediately after that, struck another, Ike me jigwe onu.... By then, I had sat and stood comfortably, scratching from the crown of my head down to the nape of my neck. When the song grew much impatient, I fixed my palms at my temples and wondered about the talents the Africans were wasting--for certain, they are wasting talents! Handkerchiefs embraced all the space whose air had been wound and twisted by the song, whispering into ears a reassurance of hope and livelihood. In my id, I began to sense a rebirth of Africa, a reassertion of her wealth of talent chiefly for music. All this music and Africa are much of a muchness. Equally so are all the songs rendered by the nine choirs. Every one of them had a touch of African realities. It pleased--and also surprised--me to see the Port Harcourt choir in African dress peculiar to Ikwerre. Bravo! God was being accessed in originality. To this, African Christianity must have an extension. Irresistible, the applications of our real selves, without imitation of an imitation as do some Africans who crave for Western tones, are tools for building up the terrain of African societies. The breath of our music need only possess the right gases to equip our multifaceted cultures. Listen to me as I say it again: You cannot abandon, neglect, or snub your culture and creativity by getting yourself subsumed under another mans culture and then expect to get it right! No siree. If you do, it only but DOES make a noise in the Church. However, my disbelief was suspended last Friday by Fountain of Souls when I saw her lift up the African belief system a great deal higher so much so that I said, What if I hadnt come to this programme, you mean I would have missed this? She has proven that she is actually a fountain of souls--no rejoinder. Accordingly, I urge that the Overseer look into this preponderance of talents and see how they can be developed. It is just high time he did this. When I thus have a charity think about the Churchs forthcoming anniversary in December, my smiles break the harshness of my lips and cheeks because I know there will be more African talents galore than the last Fridays. I would rather you came. Much as many a person in Africa has chosen and conceived the African theater as local, humiliating, insulting, too traditional etc., even in their ignorance, and then been imitating the likes of borrowed songs and pretend to be theirs even with a large number of linguistic challenges unknown to them sometimes because they get their tongues around the language, marring effective communication just as I have pointed out in the other article of mine, there are those educated freedom fighters of Africa. Be proud that you are an African, for Africa is THE place to live and have yourself treasured; Westerners please!
Posted on: Tue, 30 Sep 2014 08:45:09 +0000
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