Kora Musician Baba the Storyteller

I have a student who I am teaching to play Kora. He’s a very hard-working, ambitious young man who is constantly in a hurry, wanting to learn the next thing or be shown more complex ways of playing. Even I’m beginning to tire of my reprimands to him: “Slow down!” “Take your time!” “Don’t rush!” “Start over.”

In spite of the constant admonishing he continues to display an “acute affinity for the fast.” I have to admit that, sometimes, and only sometimes, I am actually impressed with his adrenaline driven desire to learn the Kora, but I would never admit that to him. He is fond of reminding me that he has gotten a late start in life learning this traditional instrument. He’s only 16!

For weeks we have been working on some basics in Kora technique. He’s coming along really well but still has a very long road to travel.

This young man works in a store that imports musical instruments from several countries in Africa. Well, as fate would have it, the owner of the store had a Kora brought in from Mali, West Africa. I was unaware of this until I got a phone call from my student which went something like this:

Student: Hello Baba.

Me: Yes?

Student: There’s a Kora in the shop and I told the owner that I could tune it for him.

Me: But we haven’t worked on tuning yet.

Student: Yeah, I know, but I thought I could do it!

Me: Thought? What do you mean “thought?” What happened?

Student: Well, I was trying to tune the Kora you see, and I was getting the tuning ring to move up the pole when… when… when one of the strings on it broke.

Me: The string broke or you broke the string?

Student: I guess I kinda broke the string but I think there was something wrong with that string! I need you show me how to fix it?

I won’t go into the rest of the conversation at this time but I found myself faced with a few conflicting reactions. On the one hand, I hadn’t given him instruction on repairing the Kora yet. We are still working on the basics and here he goes again rushing ahead. On the other hand, here was a young man taking initiative, he has ambition and is willing to attempt something new, even if it is beyond his skill level. You gotta admire that.

After I hung up the phone, I made a call to the owner of the shop, we’ve known each other for a long time, and I told him to have my student bring the instrument to me and I’d make the repairs. He was grateful.

Later that day, the young man showed up for another lesson. I wanted to take this opportunity to explain, once again, why we should take our time, slow down and “never” rush things. When he walked in I took the Kora that needed repair from him, sat him down and we started talking. I explained how being in a hurry forces you to miss things. There are valuable lessons which can be learned if you only take the time to relax, watch and listen. He didn’t seem to acknowledge that he hadn’t been taught how to make these repairs yet, he was adamant that there must have been something wrong with the string on the Kora. When he finished talking I handed him the instrument back. He looked at me kind of puzzled and asked, “Aren’t you going to fix it?”

I just smiled at him and said, “I did.”

“Dooni, dooni kononi bè nyaga da.”