A club Dee jay called this morning. ”Ugandan Dance-hall music has passed away. Tomorrow we celebrate her life, her funeral”, he shook me with the news pledging to meet my costs related with witnessing the last moments. Nobody else was in a somber mood, they all looked forward to the funeral, speaking tons about the legacy of Ugandan dance hall music. Lets call him, ”Dead Gold”, though having a shaky stronghold on his servants, he had amalgamated all regions of the Pearl territory, unlike other ”kings”.
THE AUTOPSY REPORT
”Dead Gold” was found dead on this throne, the dance floor. Investigations say he plotted his own death allowing a Jamaican maestro to despot his reign without an uproar. An earlier report claimed he struggled to feed his servants on remains of ”second grade” samples of a Jamaican product ignoring the thriving fleshy organic food for the soul in his own homestead, food his ancestors passed on. They were unattended to, withering, and at the brink of wilting. However, it’s scent, it’s fragrance hang over his compound.
You could smell a similar fragrance in the backyard of the Nigerians, Congolese and South Africans. They had, unlike ”Dead Gold” watered, pruned, and were harvesting their fruits from their homesteads and the delicacy of their fruits were impossible to resist. They did not uproot their own. It is said ”Dead Gold” performed rituals, urinating on his heritage.
The far cry of the loyalists was suppressed by meticulously skilled master of an art to whom ”Dead Gold” would be an apprentice. His servants discovered the spring from which DG drank. They did not have to wait for him to brew something for them. A forensic team found samples of patois in his vocal cords. They did not match with his DNA. He choked on his own smoke. He is survived by a few hits; no album, no concert.
”99% of Ugandan music is Jamaican” read the epitaph plastered by Jasmine Dotiwala. RIP Ugandan Dance hall music.