16
“Mawanda Loves His Men” and “They Show Each Other Stumps”
Love, Unity, and Reciprocity
Whether shared between a king and his subject or among companions, meaningful and effective personal bonds all embody love, unity, and reciprocity bonds. The two songs examined in this chapter, “Mawanda Loves His Men” (“Mawanda Ayagala Abasajja Be”) and “They Show Each Other Stumps” (“Balagana Enkonge”), focus on these connective tissues of relationships. The first song expresses the love between King Mawanda (r. ca. 1738–1740) and his subjects. In a related but less specifically political way, the second song tells the story of two friends warning each other of upcoming tree stumps as they walk along a path. Semeo Ssemambo Ssebuwufu (ca. 1959–2015), who performed the version of “Mawanda Loves His Men” discussed here, was himself a court page. He had this to say about the song’s background:
The song confirms that the king loves his subjects. It recalls the pre-1966 times, when the king took care of his court pages (abasiige) and servants (abagalagala). They served in the royal court full-time, fulfilling their primary duties. These responsibilities included noting and reporting everything that took place there. It was not easy, say, for someone to steal the king’s belongings, because his pages and servants were watching. In essence, they were the eyes and ears of the royal court. King Muteesa II (r. 1939–1966) cared for his pages in specific ways—feeding us, clothing us, and educating us with his own funds.1Ssebuwufu interview, June 10, 2013.
Ssebuwufu’s commentary highlights the king’s care for those he leads, not only stemming from his responsibility to them as a ruler but his concern for their well-being as if they were his own children, his spouses, siblings, or friends. Court pages like Ssebuwufu and his contemporaries primarily reciprocated the caring concern of the king by performing music. These deeds reflect the leader’s intention to treat his subjects as family.
Ludoviiko Sserwanga (ca. 1932–2013) shared the following background about the version of “They Show Each Other Stumps” he performed for this project:
When doing something with potentially significant consequences with your friend, you must know he is trustworthy. If you are walking along at night and you are the first to see a stump in the way, you should tell your friend, “Hey, there is a stump—don’t bump into it.” This means true friendship: you do not want anything to befall your friend that might hurt him. Those types of friends are like kin. They are people who love each other, because they do not want something bad to happen to the other. That song is about loving one another, but it is even applicable to affairs of the kingdom. Even the people the king collaborates with must point out things that may cause him harm.2Sserwanga interview, July 15, 2005.
Sserwanga articulates the connection between pointing out stumps and developing trusting and profound relationships. We come to recognize that it is not the grand gestures and the spectacular pursuits that strengthen relationships but the minute and almost imperceptible movements that occur naturally in each moment, like anticipating obstacles in your way. For instance, the king and his musicians watch out for each other, not to prove themselves nor to make a statement. They do it because they care for each other, as each sees the other as an extension of themselves, belonging to the shared fabric of the kingdom. In addition, the imagery of two friends cautioning each other to watch out for upcoming stumps as they walk along a path highlights the intimate rapport that is typical of this relationship between this leader and his subjects.
Ssebuwufu’s performance of “Mawanda Loves His Men” uses a style similar to that of “Gganga Had a Narrow Escape” (chapter 11), as he and I accompany his singing with two interlocking parts that we play on a seventeen-slab xylophone known as akadinda. Our performance begins with the initiator (omunazi) part, unaccompanied for one full cycle. Ssebuwufu plays all the notes featured in this cycle on the downbeat. After the one-cycle solo progression, I join him with the complementary divider (omwawuzi) part. This part differs structurally from the divider parts of other xylophone songs covered in this book: I fill the spaces between Ssebuwufu’s notes with two quick notes instead of a single note, a technique that creates a lilting feel with triplets. The song maintains this feel throughout our performance, with the initiator and divider parts playing off each other in perfect, syncopated equilibrium. Following the entry of my divider part, Ssebuwufu begins to sing. Over the sound of the xylophone, his vocal part repeats the titular phrase:
1 Mawanda ayagala basajja be
Mawanda loves his men
The singer repeats this phrase in a similar fashion several times during the last quarter of each cycle, adding a minor modification in each iteration. At one point, he performs vocables that mimic the initiator melody. Ssebuwufu’s vocal delivery is strong and impassioned, with many of his vocal phrases ending on its highest notes. Closely listening to the relationship between the vocal and instrumental parts reveals an ongoing conversation, as longer sections of the overall instrumental part make calls to which short vocal phrases respond. Our performance concludes with a coda comprising about a cycle and a half of Ssebuwufu’s initiator part joined by a few seconds of my divider part at the very end.
The king and his people share a strong sense of interdependence, thus mutuality, and this is the primary topic of “Mawanda Loves His Men,” which stresses the king’s love for his subjects. The song’s themes of generosity, interdependence, and collaboration all permeate its performance, which captures our joyous emotion and expression and other sonic aspects, including bouncy rhythms, cheerful tone, quick tempo, and rich texture. The themes of interdependence and collaboration emerge from the interlocking of the initiator and divider parts of the xylophone, as the notes we play are harmonically consonant together and maintain a steady rhythm. As a result, we contribute equally to creating a whole functional piece, and neither part can function without the other.
Another example of a mutual relationship within the sonic framework of the song is the call-and-response structuring of the instrumental and vocal parts mentioned earlier. The multiple interdependent relationships firing at once throughout our performance also reflect the way court musicians have historically relied on each other as a body of creative artists, who together serve the king in and out of the royal court. Our performance of “Mawanda Loves His Men” captures many aspects of their relationships and those they help sustain, both in performance and its historical context.
In his performance of “They Show Each Other Stumps,” Sserwanga uses his voice and hands synchronously, singing modestly as he claps along. Although the overall performance is celebratory and cheerful, his singing sounds casual, carrying an almost improvisational sensibility. This is in part because Sserwanga’s performance also serves as an interpretation of the instrumental version of “They Show Each Other Stumps,” which he performs on the notched flute (endere) a few minutes before presenting the vocal version. When a group of singers performs the song, they may present each line of the lyrics below in a call-and-response style, with the leader singing the initial phrase and the respondents singing the subsequent phrase. Sserwanga sings both melodic phrases, which he punctuates with a brief pause that lend each lyric its conversational essence. Occasionally, the subsequent phrases feature vocables that sound very similar to some of the flute lines played in group performance. Sserwanga’s performance lasts only half a minute, and he ends as abruptly as he begins.
1 Bajja balagana enkonge, ye wuuyo Omulangira Kikulwe!
They came showing each other stumps, there he comes, Prince Kikulwe!
2 Maama, balagana enkonge, ye wuuyo Omulangira Kimera
Oh, they show each other stumps, there he comes, Prince Kimera
3 Abajja balagana, abalagana enkonge, mmm
Those who came showing each other, those who show each other stumps, mhm
4 Atudde mu kibuga n’alamula, mmm
He is seated in the city, judging the affairs of his nation, mhm
5 Kabaka atudde mu lubiri n’alamula ensi ye, ee
The king is seated in the royal court, judging the affairs of his nation, eh
6 Kabaka atudde mu ntebe n’alamula ensi ye, ee
The king is seated on the throne, judging the affairs of his nation, eh
7 Tteere ddere ddere
Tteere ddere ddere
8 Abajja balagana, abalagana enkonge!
Those who came showing each other, those who show each other stumps!
Focusing on relationships between friends, the king and his subjects, and kin, among other groups, the song “They Show Each Other Stumps” serves as a celebration of love, unity, and reciprocity. Sserwanga’s singing opens with lyrics that describe the friendship between Prince Kikulwe and Prince Kimera, explaining how the two show each other stumps (lines 1–3). These lyrics draw our attention to the quality of the royals’ relationship. The seemingly benign act of pointing out a stump indicates a unique kind of intimacy where both parties keep an eye out for the other, not for any reason besides a desire to save the other from trouble or pain. The reciprocity between them, then, is not forced but one sustained by a mutual and natural trust. The song’s subsequent transition to the king’s rule, which the singer describes as “judging the affairs of his nation” (lines 4–6), further cements this message. “They Show Each Other Stumps” reveals to us how simple acts, like the ones that the two princes shared, might translate into far more complex circumstances, such as the rule of a kingdom. The lyrics teach us that such small actions eventually build a foundation of trust that enables Buganda to operate.
 
1     Ssebuwufu interview, June 10, 2013. »
2     Sserwanga interview, July 15, 2005. »