SITI BINTI SAAD, FOUR SONGS

Zanzibar, Kiswahili
The renowned singer Siti binti Saad was born in Fumba village in Zanzibar in 1880. Her family was
quite poor, and she followed her mother’s practice of making and selling pots and mats. The
extraordinary voice that would later win her fame was first heard as she walked through Zanzibar town,
singing to call attention to her pots. …

Siti binti Saad sang in the taarab musical tradition, which blends Swahili music with Arabic and Indian.
Prior to Siti, taarab singers were most often well-off, cultured, and male and sang in Arabic. Siti, who
was illiterate but had a gift for memorizing songs, began the now well-established practice of singing in
Kiswahili. Her career served to give the language prestige and bring it to audiences outside of East
Africa. She performed in the sultan’s court and for many events hosted by the wealthy residents of
Zanzibar’s Stone Town, thus gaining considerable financial rewards. …

In ‘Kijiti’, Siti recounts the true story of a man who killed a woman visitor from Dar es Salaam. He
took the woman out, along with her friends, then raped and killed her. Siti questions the system of
justice that jailed the woman’s friends but allowed the murderer to escape to the mainland. ‘There Is No
Damage’ also recalls a real incident in which a wealthy Arab landowner and government clerk was
arrested by the British government for embezzling public funds and sentenced to work in a quarry. The
man had also been in the habit of defrauding poor people by taking advantage of their illiteracy. ‘With
Missive I Am Sending You’ is a prayer for good health and true friendship, perhaps referring to Fatuma
binti Baraka, known as Bi Kidude, a protégé of Siti who also became a renowned taarab singer. ‘Do
Not Expose a Secret’ is a medley of allegory and allusions to love, sex, and infidelity, with a hint about
promiscuity in the last verse. In typical taarab tradition, these verses allow listeners to hear what they
will, depending on the context in which they are sung.
Saïda Yahya-Othman and M.M.
Mulokozi

Kijiti
Look, look you all, what Kijiti has done,
To take a guest and give her the runaround.
He took her into the bushes and brought her
back dead. We left home without permission;
We had our gin in our basket.
The dance was in Chukwani; death awaited us in Sharifumsa.

Kijiti said to me, let us go woman.

If only I had known, I would not have gone.
Kijiti you will kill me for one
peg of gin. The judge,
presiding, was angry.
He said ‘Bloody fools!’ to Kijiti’s witnesses,
And sentenced Sumaili and Binti Subeti to prison.

These matters are strange, however you look

at them. Kijiti killed someone who was
pregnant.
He crossed the river but the witnesses drowned.
 Kijiti, I advise you not to go to Dar es
Salaam; You will encounter there a
man with a razor.
Everyone is cursing you that you may get elephantiasis.

There Is No Damage
There is no relationship; I am so and so.
The word, like a sin, is branded on the chest.
The name is yours, old man, and the stone is on
your head; The stone is on your head.

Stop your meanness and robbing of the poor,

Especially those who speak not, the ignorant of the
ignorant. Their pen always is ink on their thumbs,
Is ink on their thumbs.

Pilfering is wrong; stealing from the

government. Their books are open, with
all signatures,
A matter of long ago, comes under
scrutiny, Comes under scrutiny.

Friends, don’t be duped; hark my words.

Maintain caution; don’t let it leave your hearts.

Let little satisfy you; that which is your right,

clerks; That which is your right, clerks.

With Missive I Am Sending You

Oh, missive, I am sending you, to my
confidant, To my generous Lord, who
has no compare.
The stones have turned well, with
speedy peace. I pray respectfully, with
my hands beseeching: Rid us of enmity
and secret envy.
Prayers I have read; may they reach the
heavens, May they reach the
heavens.

Your compassion, oh, Lord, let it be with you.

Every time I look at them, I discover them in
my heart. I pray for health and freedom from
suffering,
 And freedom from suffering.

Oh, Prophet, stand up with the angels in

heaven, Together with Bi Fatuma and Hussein
her grandson. Oh, Prophet, it behooves you,
since God mandated you To pray for the
human race in heaven and earth,
In heaven and earth.

Do Not Expose a Secret

Do not expose a
secret With
colored ink.
You have to understand:
If you have many
problems, You self-
destruct
Through your own ignorance.

Give the poison to

the cat Who has
many lives,
Not the goat;
You will kill
it, For every
lecher Dies
deprived.

Poor stars
In the clouds,
I never imagined
That you would be
unfaithful. Come back,
my love,
And end my grief.

Show me.
I swear I can’t sleep;
Quench my desire by
action.
Being
apart from
him
Makes me
crazy.

A ripe fruit must be picked.

A dry leaf is withered by the sun.
The one with a scar may
still be hurting. My love,
don’t agitate me.
Love does not last
without tolerance.
Understand, speed is
not progress.

The sweetness of sugar

Does not surpass that
of sugarcane.
Sugarcane has juice
Dripping
down on
you. With
sudden
sweetness,
The soul
melts.

A
decora
ted
cup Is
good
for
tea;
Add
some
milk
And
sugar
aplenty.
When
you
depart,
Another
is
waiting.