But Who or What is "Ogwela ma Nene"?-Odongo's Hidden Advice to Gurdian Angel on Marrying a "Nyamgondho"
It is not by chance that this blog has written about Odongo Swagg more than anyone else. I have attempted to explain what Odongo Swagg meant my his Chwade gi Nyundo message that caused an uproar. Many people have held that it was meant to be what people took it to be but that is now beyond the artist. In some advanced literary debates and conversations, there is a common view that an artist has no control over the meaning a reader, or an audience, chooses to give to their work.
But it seems Odongo will have many such moments. He is the man of the moment but I fear many people may only come to understand him later, when he is gone and there are other people holding the microphone. I am no exception. I think there will be many instances I will have to take more time, to hold the urge to swing my body in rhythm with his danceable bits, to fully understand the depth of his words.
For the starters, Odongo (or Odongo's success) is a product of many excellent elements of Ohangla. One is, of course, Bongisa's impeccable Piano talent that has ensured that hit after hit, Odongo has just the right beats to accompany his juicy lyrics. Two, and which comes from Odongo himself, are (let me simply say) the words.
The Hidden Meaning of Ogwela ma Nene
One such word, or phrase that I believe is still lost to many is Ogwela ma Nene. As I have expounded earlier on Odongo's Chwade Gi Nyundo, the song's beginning, and the best part of it, is about some woman (not Nya'Mbita) who has caused Odongo a lot of trouble. Odongo admits both in his song and in live interview that the lady, Nya'Kagan, was his lover and they stayed together in his early days as a musician.
Initially, I even gave the interpretation that she was the one who was funding Odongo as it comes out in the lyrics. Odongo informs his fans that he is still the one who was abused and embarrassed in Kisumu. It was Nya'Kagan who embarrassed Odongo and he has mentioned it in more than one song, including in the famous Madharau (which people now identify with Machuomchuom).
But what I had never considered was the age, or the age difference between Odongo and the Nya'Kagan who claimed to have fed him, housed him, clothed him and later, when things went south, took to abusing and embarrassing him even before his fans. I thought that when Odongo claimed that he was abused in Kisumu, it was all by Nya'Kagan and for being supported in his early days.
No! Odongo was abused even by his friends and Jo Kisumo in general. Though it is arguably correct to say that the friends and fans in Kisumu may have picked their insults after seeing Nya'Kagan. How did they insult him, you ask? Well Odongo says it himself.
Mang'ang'a an ema nyoche oyanya Kisumo, NG'ATO wacho ni apidho "OGWELA MA NENE"
Mang'ang'a, I am (still) the one who was insulted in Kisumu. SOMEONE said that I am rearing "OGWELA MA NENE".
Who or What, then, is Ogwela ma Nene that people are saying that Odongo is rearing? You see, I had translated this as "someone is saying that they have been feeding Ogwela (being Odongo's praise name) all this while, or for the longest time" But turns out I was wrong. I have heard Emma Jalamo sings something like "Ogwela na ma wendo". So, what or who is Ogwela? And now, like ma kende, what is ma nene?
Let me surprise you how I learned this. Now, my brother and I are sitting under the shade beside his house one hot afternoon. I am on December holiday and it is just a day to the end of 2021, Odongo's year. I have not been home, or we've not met at home, for almost a year and a half and we are just catching up. My brother is a serious consumer of music and has a taste for well-crafted pieces of art. We spent the best of our young lives together and no doubt, we share a lot in terms of taste. But he is better with words and their meanings especially in Dholuo. He is older than me and so that- his advanced grasp of words in their sociocultural context- can be expected.
This afternoon, I realize that he has been reading some of my works on this site albeit silently. I read this from some of his inputs as we are listening to Odongo's Nyasembo from his Samsung beatbox. He has been carrying it with him everywhere he goes. I am fascinated by the popularity of Odongo's works. My brother too has not been home for a while. The nature of his works pushes him even further from Kisumu, Odongo's Capital, than myself. He is up there, at the border ensuring that we are secure as a country. But I am surprised how updated he is on the goings-on in the Ohangla world. The last time we danced together, it was Prince Indah who was still the talk of the town with his Kwach Ogolo Koke.
As we continue discussing Nyasembo and other unknown (or unpopular) compositions such Odongo Yaaye, Osama Dokta Wuod Apuoche, Nyaseme, Nyar Agweng' and Simba Odenyo, the playlist gets to the famous Chwade Gi Nyundo. We almost jump to our feet at the same time like we used to do as children or just some few years ago but we remember that we are now men with wives and children. We have to practice some reservation for the sake of the eye of the village that is always watching for any "bad examples" to punish. So we decide to turn to stories instead as we intermittently join Swagg to sing some lines, or shout out some "thrown words" or greetings.
Nyamgondho, the Mythical Man who Married the Mysterious Daughter of the Lake
My brother breaks out laughing just after Odongo has mentioned "Ogwela ma Nene" and asks me about someone we both know but whose story has been told to all young in the village as "Nyamgodho the Second." The myth of Nyamgondho the son of Ombare is common among the Luos. It is told that once a poor man called Nyamgondho lived by the shores of the lake. He lacked the means to pay dowry and therefore had opted to live all by himself as a senior bachelor. He had his hope high every morning and evening that someday he is going to marry. It came true to him in one of the strangest ways.
One evening as he was about to return home from fishing, his fishing rope caught a mysterious human fish, an old woman with unattractive features than no man would have looked at twice. He was about to abandon it but the woman pleaded with him to bring her with him claiming she would bring him luck. The story goes that Nyamgondho heeded halfheartedly but was soon surprised when his pen became full of bulls, rams and goats. He even married more women and his compound grew bigger and bigger with wealth and children.
However, a sad ending is told where Nyamgondho soon forgot his initial condition, the source of his wealth, and began to mistreat his mysterious companion. One morning the woman said enough is enough and decided to return to the lake. And one by one all the animals, wealth, followed her into the waters leaving Nyamgondho worse than in his early days. There is a tree in Gwasi, Suba, bearing the shape of a destitute man on the shores of the lake, believed to have been Nyamgondho.
But our own Nyamgondho the Second is not a myth. I would have used his name but he is alive and I have chosen not to ask him if it would be appropriate to tell his story. So I have to keep it anonymous and only use his codified reference, Nyamgondho the Second. I hope it someone who may want to connect the dots will spare me the agony of having to sit my people down at the Barasa to explain why I decided to give out the village secrets.
Now, about 20 years ago, Nyamgondho the Second, came back home with luck. He had been away for many years. Those who knew him said he was staying at Ahero Town but he hardly returned home despite the fare, then, being only twenty shillings. His father was a Kidhedhe, the Chief's eyes, and he was his eldest son. Older people called his father using his name, Wuon "Nyamgondho". Those of us who did not know him well used the names of his younger brothers but who were already boys enough by then.
On the evening he arrived home with his luck, a woman who everyone saw and said was way older than him, I saw him. Nyamgondho the Second had not built a house, let alone a home. Being the eldest son of his father, his situation had troubled his clansmen as his younger brothers could not put up their own houses and homes ahead of him.
His father and his people, I would learn, had pleaded with him to come back home but he refuted their call saying he was still searching for his fortunes. He said he would only come after getting something in his hand, something to build a house with and live a decent life.
People said he was just a mere cart-pusher. So when he finally came back home with a woman, an older woman, his people were confused. Others had already began talking but were soon silenced when the woman and their son brought home 40 iron sheets and all other construction materials ready to put up a home, not a house. His father and some clansmen seemed to have agreed to that and they shut out any contrary cultural insights that could conflict the aspirations of their now well-oiled couples.
They pointed to him a prime piece of land next to his grandparents homes, and adjacent to a point along the river that never dried even during drought. The house stood in less than two days, and it was a mabati house, at a time when most people could only afford a grass-thatched house and had to take weeks building it.
Afterwards, the home began to thrive and more lips were shut. In the first year, the couple harvested maize and beans than anyone else in that part of the world. They also opened up a small shop where they stocked common items that almost every household needed each day. Sugar. Salt. Kiberiti. Milk. This was even a better silencer to many who had criticized them before. They found a place to take things on credit and they had to trade their long mouths for it.
Nyamgondho the Second was turning the world around. The village was slowly accepting what or who he had brought home as a wife. For as long as they are happy. It is their choice. She was productive economically, she was social, and she was (still) beautiful (at least to his shemejis who were always asked if the could branch in Odongoesque style)
Something Always gets Wrong in the End, Guardian Angel
But something troubled Nyamgondho the Second! She was yet to conceive. She only had older children from her previous marriage or relationship. Only some relatively young ones, two and about ten or nine years old, lived with them and our son appeared to embrace them while waiting for his own. It must have been weighing down on him and some people were already talking. With his father ailing and his years moving, the "society was concerned".
As they stabilized further and started rearing cows as well, our son decided that he would do some business outside the home. Ahero tu, where they had met. And there, he may have made the wrong decision! Something that the woman, his Ogwela Manene, may not have liked at all. And it exploded!
Dusk is setting in. The Odongo Swagg playlist has gone more than three rounds now as we conclude the story of Nyamgondho and what become of him. His Ogwela Ma Nene became insecure and called it quit. As we speak, the beautiful home he once had is a bush, the cows are long gone. The shop and all its things the village came to buy disappeared. The maize can no longer grow or are no longer grown there. Nyamgondho the Second's father died some years ago and we buried him.
Nyamgondho the Second healed after some years and brought home someone of his age. Not younger than him. Not an Ogwela ma Nene. Just someone old enough to understand his history, his situation and ready to live with him in the small cube he managed to assemble after his home was brought down during the noisy and messy breakup!
Now you know who Ogwela (a toucher) ma Nene (of yesteryears) means and why Jo Kisumo were abusing Odongo that he is rearing one.
And you see, even for Odongo, it did not end all that well!
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