Lyrics

In this collage of sounds from my hometown of M’bour, we first hear a traditional sabar drum ensemble playing in a courtyard, mixed with fula flute, a side-blown, 3-holed flute made from rattan. Then we hear in the distance faint percussion music from a wedding, which gives way to the chanting of the Koran by kids known as “talibe.” These are young kids without a family who live with their Serigne, or teacher. During the day they beg in the streets, and at night they begin chanting after dinner and continue non-stop until 6 o’clock in the morning. After the talibe, we hear the late-night sounds of the courtyard at my brother Youssoupha’s house -- people hanging out, brewing tea, cleaning the dishes from dinner, and playing kora. The final song, written and performed by my nephew Mamadou Cissokho, quite possibly saved his parents’ marriage. He calls it Waajur, parents in Wolof.

My Mom, my Dad / I appreciate you so much / I miss seeing you together, laughing, eating, hanging out / I hope you can continue that / I love you and respect you / when I grow up, I want you both to be a part of my life / to see who I will become / to be proud of me / so you don’t regret bringing me into your lives / Dad, you are a wonderful musician / you have always paid great attention to your kids / you feed us, support us / you have always wanted a better life for your kids