“I Am Undeniably Yours”: Reclaiming Belonging Through ‘Song of the Motherland’

Jun 19

“I am Black history / I am your culture / Know me” - Anum Iyao

Shabaka Hutchings, previously of the celebrated but sadly now-dissolved Sons of Kemet, has rapidly ascended to my list of favorite artists. Sons of Kemet's profound engagement with Blackness and their groundbreaking exploration of Afrofuturism, expressed through their unique sonic and lyrical approach, made them an exceptional group. Shabaka, in his solo work, appears to be pushing the Afrofuturistic vision of Sons of Kemet into uncharted, or at least altered, territories.

Though I miss the energy and vibes of Sons of Kemet, Shabaka's recent albums have offered a powerful, meditative experience. Both his latest releases guide listeners into a contemplative state, starting with Afrikan Culture, which utilizes instrumental textures to create an Afrofuturistic sonic meditation, as seen in tracks like "Black Meditation" and "Ital is Vital." That album, which ignited my deeper exploration into Shabaka’s music, maybe a topic for another time, deserves a deeper dive. His subsequent release, Perceive Its Beauty, Acknowledge Its Grace, commemorating Africa Day 2024, continues this trajectory, traversing diverse sonic landscapes to reinforce the beauty of the African continent inviting the listener to contemplate: What beauty must be perceived, and what grace must be acknowledged?

Every song is worthy of listening, including “End of Innocence" and "I'll Do Whatever You Want" but it is "Song of the Motherland," the final track of the album, which answers the question Shabaka is asking of us in a way that truly moved me. It feels like the perfect ending, the album's ultimate message.

“Song of the Motherland” displays a high degree of artistic merit. The fusion of spoken word and musical accompaniment results in a singularly moving experience. The poem, written from the perspective of the African continent itself, is a moving tribute to the land and its connection to the Black Diasporic community. It offers a maternal embrace to those of us in the African Diaspora, acknowledging our struggles and disconnection while providing a space and time for reclamation and a sense of belonging. This verse perfectly captures the essence of the poem's message:

‘Take me / Like comforting hands / Born Black sincere / Strong to your face / And knowing I am undeniably yours / Wipe your tears’

I was fascinated to learn that this seemingly new piece is, in fact, a revival of his father Anum Iyao’s (known as AnkAnum) work from his sole 1985 album by the same name.

The multilayered composition, incorporating a range of instrumental elements—bells, chimes, and strings—is distinguished by the flute's prominent role in accompanying the spoken text. The crescendo of the poem is highlighted by Shabaka's distinctive and refined flute performance, which beutifully accentuates some of the most poingant lines of the poem:

'I am not magic / not a miracle / but I bring determination / I focus your consciousness on towards good / I motivate your unrelenting struggle / I energize the feeling spirit / believe in me / I am Blackness / I am identity / take me'

Shabaka's decision to feature this work, coinciding with Africa Day, serves as a fitting conclusion to the album and a demonstration of his artistic virtuosity. While other tracks such as "Breathing" are of considerable merit, "Song of the Motherland" represents the album's magnum opus, effectively encapsulating its thematic and sonic objectives. The instrumental arrangement and sonic diversity, I think, links this project to Afrikan Culture and beautifully expands Shabaka’s instrumentation.

Even though I've primarily been discussing the song, I can't help but share what Africa means to so many of us in the diaspora. It can be a profound struggle for those of us with African heritage to truly feel a sense of belonging to Africa. Although we share a common experience as Black people, racialized as such in this society, our connections to Africa differ. While some find strength and identity in African clothing or by visiting the continent, others struggle with negative stereotypes of Africa. Ultimately, having endured centuries of oppression and dehumanization outside Africa and therefore for many of us, "Africa" symbolizes more than just a place; it represents a vital connection to identity and belonging. "Song of the Motherland" speaks to this directly, with Africa herself acknowledging our pain and offering a powerful welcome. This song isn't about policing identity; it's about inviting us to reclaim our strength, our beauty, our power.

Shabaka Hutchings, in the album's concluding track, presents a pathway to belonging and a reinterpretation of the Motherland's aesthetic significance. The album, Perceive Its Beauty, Acknowledge Its Grace, explores themes of innocence lost, the potential collapse of nature, our shared vulnerabilities, and the necessity of healing—all echoed in song titles— but it is the concluding song, spoken by the Motherland, which ultimately calls us to acknowledge Africa's intrinsic beauty. Notwithstanding persistent negative representations, Shabaka, through the voice of Africa herself, implores all of us, but particularly thise of us in the Diaspora, to claim her as an integral part of our identity and to recognize her inherent beauty and grace. As she herself says: