When the Song Remembers: A Journey through Zimbabwean Music and Memory

When the Song Remembers: A Journey through Zimbabwean Music and Memory

So here I am, on my way home from work, Tokyo lights buzzing outside the train window, and as usual, I pull out my phone to check something. My screen lights up, and there she is—my grandmother. My screen saver. Her face, her smile, and suddenly… Chitekete by the legendary Leonard Dembo begins to hum in my head. I pause. My eyes well up. A tear escapes.

Chitekete wasn't just a song. It was her song. My grandmother’s favorite. At that moment, it felt like she was right there with me, humming softly in my ears. You know those songs that pull you back to a time, a place, or a person? That’s me. That’s my playlist of memories.

My grandmother passed away when I was still quite young. She had suffered a stroke and couldn’t speak anymore, but somehow, music became our secret language. We spoke through songs. I remember one day while doing her hair—the usual magodi—I played Neria by Oliver Mtukudzi, and she started crying. That’s when I realized how deeply music moves us, how it brings the past into the present, even if just for a moment.

Zimbabwean music isn’t just sound—it’s memory, history, culture, and identity all in one. These melodies carried our pain, joy, loss, and love. They told our stories when words failed. They still do.

We are blessed with musical legends whose work transcends time. Think of:

Leonard Dembo’s “Chitekete” – a love song so powerful it became a wedding anthem across generations.

“Chitekete chandinadira / Ndinongokuda iwe chete…”

(This flower I’ve chosen / You're the only one I love…)

A man unable to sleep, enchanted by his beloved. Pure poetry.

Oliver Mtukudzi’s “Dzoka Uyamwe” – a cry from the soul, expressing homesickness and longing for lost innocence and unity.

“Dzoka uyamwe, mwana wemai, zvakukanganisika...”

(Come back home and be nurtured, my mother's child, things are falling apart...)

 A call to return to roots, to rediscover our lost values.

John Chibadura’s “Vengai Zvangu” – a plea for mercy and understanding.

This song talks about a man wrongfully accused or judged, asking his enemies to let him be and find peace. It speaks to the everyday struggles of the common man—resilience in the face of injustice.

Simon Chimbetu’s “Pane Asipo” – meaning “someone is missing.”

This song hits deep. It reflects on loss and absence, acknowledging how a missing loved one can shift the entire atmosphere of a place. It’s a gentle, soulful reminder of the void left behind by those we hold dear.

We also had the fire and fun side of Zimbabwean music—Alick Macheso’s energetic guitar riffs, Tongai Moyo’s vibrant voice, the soulful vibes of Nicholas Zakaria, and the unique sounds of System Tazvida, Marshal Munhumumwe, and Tinei Chikupo.

These weren’t just musicians. They were storytellers. Their music still lives, dancing across generations and continents.

And here I am, a Zimbabwean girl in Japan, holding onto melodies that raised me, comforted me, and shaped me. I’m so glad I got to grow up listening to real music—music with a message, music that remembers.

Let’s not forget our musical roots. Play that old school jam today. Let it take you somewhere.

"Music is what feelings sound like. And sometimes, it’s how we remember the ones we never stopped loving."