A Conversation with Pedro Ben: “The idea was to put Mozambican music on the map, to show that it existed”

On hearing from a Mozambican friend that Pedro Ben was living in London, musically incognito, I begged for his number. Ben and his fellow musicians, especially Jaimito and Hortêncio Langa, are the founding figures of Mozambican popular music post-1975. I first heard them in the late 1970s when I was recruited by Frelimo, the ruling party, to teach in a secondary school in the northern Mozambican city of Nampula. Ben, Jaimito and Hortêncio (the latter two known by their first names) were role models for the young teachers and students I met there. The three Mozambicans were part of a loose group of musicians who came together in Maputo, the capital, to record songs which still get airtime on Radio Mozambique. They all featured on Amanhecer (Dawn), an album Ben claims was the first to be released in Mozambique after its independence on June 25, 1975. It arrived as the new nation celebrated its freedom from almost 500 years of Portuguese colonialism. Though legendary at home, the album has received scant exposure abroad. Vinyl copies are so rare that when I met Ben, he didn’t even own one himself. Even finding Amanhecer on streaming platforms takes inside knowledge and determined detective work.

At the time, the album was seen as a beacon of Mozambique’s nova sociedade (new society) following independence. This is an excerpt from Tempo, a weekly controlled by Frelimo, in 1978: “Something new is happening in Mozambican popular song. There is a conscious effort to search for new directions… The Amanhecer album is a stepping stone in the pursuit of innovation… We can single out the artists Pedro Ben, Hortêncio Langa and the band Rabadab Zam’Thaka, led by Jaimito… What can we learn from Amanhecer? First, that technique is fundamental. Second, the combination of traditional instruments with modern, more advanced equipment makes a beautiful sound. Third, popular music does not have to be openly political. Fourth, the revolution has penetrated the Maputo underworld, since all the artists on the record come from there… Amanhecer is a turning point in Mozambican music.”

Half a century later, the opportunity to meet one of the surviving musicians behind Amanhecer, and a bona fide Mozambican legend, was unmissable. Our interview took place at London’s Africa Centre. I began by gifting Ben a copy of his own record – in this situation, I was happy to part with my own. Tall and quietly spoken, Ben thanked me, sipped an espresso and answered my questions.

Can you please introduce yourself and say what you have in your hands?

I’m Pedro Ben. I’m Mozambican and I’m holding a vinyl LP called Amanhecer. I started singing in colonial times when I was eight years old. I was a soloist in the choir at the Roman Catholic church where I lived. When I was 16, I became the lead vocalist in a band, but there was a lack of Mozambican music on the radio. In colonial times, it was dominated by Portuguese musicians who worked for Rádio Clube de Moçambique, but now, after independence, it was Rádio Moçambique, and the time for change had come – the new radio jingle was ‘RM, o Rádio ao Serviço do Povo’ (RM, Radio at the Service of the People). I met a pair of great musicians, Hortêncio Langa and Jaimito, neither of whom are still among us. Jaimito was one of the best I have ever worked with. I had written a few songs, so they said I could be part of the Amanhecer project. That was how this LP was born. It sold throughout Mozambique. It was a big success, from the Rovuma to the Maputo [the rivers marking the country’s northern and southern borders]. Amanhecer was the first album of Mozambican music after the end of colonialism. Then came Amanhecer (N°2) and others.

Did you know Hortêncio and Jaimito before making the album?

Yes, we worked together at various places in Maputo. Jaimito had a band, Rabadab Zam’thaka. We played venues that no longer exist. In colonial times, we performed in our little corner, but afterwards we got together. Hortêncio and Jaimito decided that Amanhecer would showcase the top musicians in Mozambique. We had two tracks each. The idea was to put Mozambican music on the map, to show that it existed, not to make money. We went into a studio on the Avenida Eduardo Mondlane and worked till dawn, with just a sandwich and a refresco [non-alcoholic drink]. It was record, pause, record, pause, all for free. The album’s sponsors only gave us money after the album came out. They were called Produções 1001 [1001 Productions]. 1001 was an advertising agency based in the building, and also a concert promoter. They distributed Amanhecer around the country. I was happy with our success. Some tracks still get on Mozambican radio, which is very satisfying. It makes me feel that everything was worthwhile, for me and the others. We were very young at the time.

How do you characterise the style of music on Amanhecer?

How do I define it? We recorded what we felt. OK, there is Hortêncio’s instrumental, ‘Madjíca Experimental N° 1’, which is marrabenta, a well-known genre, but the rest came from what was inside us at the time. For example, I wrote ‘Zimbabwe’ with Jaimito, because we were all thinking about the struggle against Ian Smith [prime minister of Rhodesia, now known as Zimbabwe, from 1964 until 1979, whose white minority government fought a war against militant guerrilla organisations throughout his tenure]. We were at home, me singing, Jaimito playing, and Zimbabwe was on our minds. The idea came, I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the lyrics. Everything here expresses our feelings. As well as marrabenta, there are various styles of music in Mozambique. It’s important to remember that marrabenta is not the only one. Amanhecer drew on a number of styles.

Tell us more about marrabenta and the others…

Marrabenta is a form of what’s called música ligeira (light music). When people speak of Mozambican music, it’s always number one. But as well as marrabenta, there is nfena, there is zorre. Zorre is from the province of Inhambane in the south, where Filipe Come [who also played on Amanhecer] was from. Rabadab Zam’thaka, the band which he and Jaimito were in, played a bit Afro, but more the music of southern Mozambique. Jaimito was from Inhambane too. He was a Chopi [a southern Mozambican people], he drew on Chopi music. You can hear Chopi rhythms in his songs, but there were a whole series of other rhythms, like xigubu and makwai. For those unfamiliar with Mozambique, there are ten provinces and around 23 languages in addition to Portuguese, which is the official one. Each has its music. We were lucky enough to live in a place with recording equipment. Outside the capital, making a record was a little difficult, but in Maputo there was more going on. Our album was popular everywhere, in every province. It sold out. I didn’t have a copy.

I bought it in Nampula.

That’s a long way from Maputo.

I want to go deeper into the question of the roots of Amanhecer. You spoke of the various parts of Mozambique, each with its own style of music. Besides these, what had you and the other musicians heard? For example, Portuguese music, music from elsewhere in the world or music from other parts of Africa?

Music from other parts of Africa, yes. For example, from Zaire, the Congo, as it was called. We listened to a lot of Congolese rumba. Then there was the music of Tanzania and Nigeria. Fela Ransome Kuti was still alive. We certainly heard him. Jaimito was one of those people who made us listen to good music. We were also into The Beatles and the Rolling Stones. We listened to them in colonial times.

What about Clapton?

Yes, Eric played in Maputo after independence. The person who invited him is a friend of mine, Aurélio Le Bon. But let’s get back to Chopi music. Chopi music is made with the timbila. Outside Mozambique, it’s known as the marimba. 15 or 20 musicians, playing timbilas, singing and dancing at the same time. We heard all this. We call it música tradicional (traditional music). It opened our minds. But there was plenty of other music in the mix. Take American music. We listened to Otis Redding, BB King. Jaimito played the blues very well. All these things were part of our learning process: Mozambican traditional music, music from other parts of the world, music from other African countries. There was also music from South Africa, because it’s nearby. In colonial times, Rádio Clube de Moçambique played a lot of South African music: Mahlathini & the Mahotella Queens, Miriam Makeba, Letta Mbulu, Caiphus Semenya, Hugh Masekela. He came to play in Mozambique. I liked him a lot. For us, it was all learning.

In Nampula, we had two sources of music: Amanhecer on the turntable and a cassette of Miriam Makeba. She did a concert in Maputo. I think someone recorded it off the radio.

Yes, I was there. It was 1979, I think. I was working at Rádio Moçambique, not as a musician, but as a technician. I sat near her. The concert was marvellous. She sang ‘Malaika’, ‘A Luta Continua’… The sound engineers of Rádio Moçambique recorded it. The same thing happened to me when I played in Maputo in 1982. I had been away, and they recorded my return concert, made cassettes and sold them. I only found out later.

Nowadays, you can buy bootleg CDs on the street in Maputo. I confess that I have some, for example, Os Bons Rapazes by Ghorwane. It’s a classic.
When this happens, the musicians make no money. The person who makes money is the one who copies it and has kids to sell it on the street. I don’t know how to deal with this. Most of my songs are registered for copyright in Portugal. In Mozambique, I haven’t got anything registered. People make money from my music, but I don’t earn a thing. If there were rights like there are in Portugal or the UK, when a person covers a song, the composer gets royalties, but in Mozambique, we haven’t reached that point.

When did you start work as a technician at Rádio Moçambique?

1977.

So, it was after Amanhecer?

Yes. At first, I was a technician, but as a singer doing gigs in the evening, I thought, ‘I don’t want to be a technician’. Sometimes I started work at five in the morning and didn’t leave until one at night, so it was hard to do anything else. I decided to pack it in. They didn’t want to let me go, but I left anyway. I only went back to Rádio Moçambique when I started my solo career. That was in 1978. In 1979, I joined Grupo RM, the Rádio Moçambique house band. Why? Because there was a lack of music on the radio. The director, Rafael Maguni, wanted to have a group based at RM, and we already had hits. I recorded mine at Produções 1001 with the engineer, José Felizardo. The drummer, Wazimbo, and Jaimito were also successful recording artists. So, Maguni sent for us and we became state employees. That was how Grupo RM was born. The name came from the RM microphone labels. I was in the band from 1979 to 1983, when I left and went to Portugal.

This was during Mozambique’s socialist period. How did your music fit with that?

Good question. The owners of Produções 1001 were Portuguese. They went back to Portugal and the company was nationalised. It was an era of nationalisation. The state used the 11th-floor facilities to make recordings. This happened after Amanhecer (N°2).

Can you say more about the situation in Mozambique at that time regarding instruments, guitar strings, amplification, etc? Tell us about the practical and technical aspects of music-making in those days.

Produções 1001 had instruments and equipment. Every week, they were sent out to gigs and returned to the agency.

Did your friends have their own instruments?

Jaimito and Hortêncio had acoustic guitars and a timbila. Very few people owned instruments, but these two did. Everything else belonged to Produções 1001. They and another agency called Delta were the only ones with the equipment to put on shows. Delta was purely a promoter. They didn’t do recordings. Produções 1001 was a fine agency. They created something for Mozambique. In colonial times, they didn’t make records, but after independence, they saw the need. Jaimito and Fernando Ferreira got together to fill the gap.

How did the title Amanhecer come about?

It’s like people say, ‘There’s a new light’. There was a new light in Mozambique after independence. It was new in every way. Colonialism was finished. A new nation, a new state, was born. The people were freed from the Portuguese colonial yoke. This had a lot to do with the album. It stemmed from our new freedom, a new dawn for everyone.

What changes did it bring for you, young musicians in the capital? Did the kind of shows you played differ from before?

In colonial times, a lot of things were out of the question. We couldn’t do many things because the Portuguese didn’t let us. They didn’t allow our culture to come through. You could only hear traditional music in the places where it was from. For example, in Zavala, the colonial authorities let Chopi musicians play in the bairros (suburbs), but not in the centre of town. In Lourenço Marques [Maputo’s pre-independence name], I played in a band where I was the only Black musician. The others were white. It was a racist scene. Once a woman got up on stage at the Clube das Lisboetas, which did not allow Blacks in the audience. It was near the Hotel Girassol, but it’s not there anymore. This ‘senhora’ wanted to congratulate us on our performance. In Portuguese fashion, she kissed the other musicians on both cheeks. When my turn came, she shook my hand. Independence put an end to that kind of behaviour. It opened a new horizon for us Mozambicans. The music on Amanhecer shows how we felt.