Mohamed Said
JF-Expert Member
- Nov 2, 2008
- 21,967
- 32,074
SAL DAVIS "UNCHAIN MY HEART" KATIKA FM STATION SWEDEN
One day I was sitting talking with my friends at our baraza and there suddenly standing in front of my table facing me was none other than my childhood idol — Sal Davis.
There was no way I could mistake the man.
Four decades had passed since I last saw him.
My mind raced back.
I stopped speaking and stared at him in disbelief.
Standing there was a white haired version of Sal Davis, the man whose songs I had sung as a kid.
A flood of memories swept over me.
I could remember exactly where I was when I first heard Sal Davis singing Makini over the radio.
It was at the house of my uncle, Bwana Humud, on Kipata Street (now Mtaa wa Kleist).
This was 1963 and I was 11 years old.
The flip side of Makini was the song Ayayaa Uhuru, which Sal Davis composed to honour Kenya and Zanzibar’s independence as both countries, got their independence in 1963.
(The government banned Ayayaa Uhuru in 1964 after Zanzibar’s revolution because the lyrics mentioned Mohamed Shamte, the first prime minister and other patriots in the first Zanzibar government before the revolution).
As I sat there gaping at Sal Davis, these thoughts racing through my mind, a friend, Mahmud Fundi, broke the spell, “Mohamed, let Sal Davis be!
Let us go on with our story.
You were saying?”
That brought me back from the early 1960s to the present time.
“No, Mahmud, do not talk like that! This is Sal Davis, my childhood hero.
I used to sing and dance to his music when I was very little.”
Sal Davis, surprised by my outburst and that generous introduction, held out his hand to me.
(FROM THE PAGES OF THE EAST AFRICAN MAGAZINE: SAL DAVIS)
mohamedsaidsalum.blogspot.com
One day I was sitting talking with my friends at our baraza and there suddenly standing in front of my table facing me was none other than my childhood idol — Sal Davis.
There was no way I could mistake the man.
Four decades had passed since I last saw him.
My mind raced back.
I stopped speaking and stared at him in disbelief.
Standing there was a white haired version of Sal Davis, the man whose songs I had sung as a kid.
A flood of memories swept over me.
I could remember exactly where I was when I first heard Sal Davis singing Makini over the radio.
It was at the house of my uncle, Bwana Humud, on Kipata Street (now Mtaa wa Kleist).
This was 1963 and I was 11 years old.
The flip side of Makini was the song Ayayaa Uhuru, which Sal Davis composed to honour Kenya and Zanzibar’s independence as both countries, got their independence in 1963.
(The government banned Ayayaa Uhuru in 1964 after Zanzibar’s revolution because the lyrics mentioned Mohamed Shamte, the first prime minister and other patriots in the first Zanzibar government before the revolution).
As I sat there gaping at Sal Davis, these thoughts racing through my mind, a friend, Mahmud Fundi, broke the spell, “Mohamed, let Sal Davis be!
Let us go on with our story.
You were saying?”
That brought me back from the early 1960s to the present time.
“No, Mahmud, do not talk like that! This is Sal Davis, my childhood hero.
I used to sing and dance to his music when I was very little.”
Sal Davis, surprised by my outburst and that generous introduction, held out his hand to me.
(FROM THE PAGES OF THE EAST AFRICAN MAGAZINE: SAL DAVIS)
FROM THE PAGES OF THE EAST AFRICAN MAGAZINE: SAL DAVIS
Sal Davis: The man who brought the roaring 60s to swinging Dar By MOHAMED SAID Sal Davis at Chef Pride Lumumba Street I HA...
mohamedsaidsalum.blogspot.com