Daddy Lumba Vs Michael Jackson: Different Stages, One Soul! Abilolo's Random Musings!

I have seen the ongoing social media frenzy as people try to pitch the legends; Daddy Lumba and Michael Jackson against each other. Just when I thought I would never get involved in what I thought was an unnecessary banter, Wɔfa Kwame Kyei Baffour, in a thoughtful Facebook post recently, stirred my cisterns with a beautifully nuanced take on the songwriting genius Daddy Lumba is. In measured prose, he traced Lumba’s lyrical mastery to both cultural roots and sheer intellect, highlighting his unparalleled control over Twi diction, metaphor, and proverbial depth. I'd say for the great lyricist he is himself, his conclusion was clear and honest. He argued Lumba is perhaps Ghana’s greatest lyricist, but comparing him to Michael Jackson, is “blasphemy.” Because to him, there are levels, genres, language barriers, and context-specific constraints that make such comparisons slippery, if not unnecessary.

He is right in part. There are levels to this game. And Wɔfa KKB's dissection of the Ghanaian musical intelligentsia is as respectful as it is rigorous. But I would like to pick up from where he left off. Not to refute him, but to deepen the conversation.

You see, the argument that Lumba cannot be placed in the same tier as Michael Jackson only holds if we insist on measuring their genius with the same scale! That, in itself, is a flawed metric if you ask me! Because greatness, and I mean true greatness, does not speak in one dialect, does not perform in one genre, and certainly does not live in one culture! Greatness speaks to the soul! And both Michael Jackson and Daddy Lumba did that with extraordinary power.

As I shared in my own tribute to Lumba, music reveals its meaning not always in the moment of listening, but in the unfolding seasons of life. That is when lyrics rise from memory and strike the heart. That is when metaphors become mirrors! That is when you realize you were not merely entertained but ministered to! A ministration that cuts through the dividing asunder of bone and marrow once you yield! It even causes you to yield all broken, the more! It is at this sacred intersection of melody and meaning that both Lumba and Michael Jackson take their rightful place. Not in the vexatious competition we entertain. The true essence is seen in communion! Both remain prophets in their own temples! You could call them priests of pain, joy, and longing.

Michael Jackson sang for the world and there is no shred of doubt Lumba sang our world! That alone should tell us that this is not a matter of one being greater than the other. It is a matter of one being to a people what the other was to his! A very subjective one! Michael moved hearts in English as Lumba pierced souls in Asante Twi! For those of us who understand both languages and both worlds, there is no doubt these men are two sides of the same sacred coin.

Michael Jackson gave the world songs that became movements. He asked us to heal the world and to look in the mirror! He compelled us to ask difficult questions and to hold each other! Songs like “Will You Be There” express not just vulnerability, but exhaustion! He sang with the ache of someone wondering if love, after all he had given, would remain by his side.

And that is exactly where Lumba’s “Ɛmmɛfa Me Nkɔgyae Me” sets in. It is not just a song but a deep intense sigh. For a melancholic who loves deeply, I deem it a sacred groan! "Ɛmmɛfa me nkɔgyae me" is the voice of a man who has weathered betrayal, yet still believes in the redemptive power of companionship. The lyrical content in both songs is not bound by geography but by humanity! They both cry out to love and to loyalty in a world that demands strength but forgets how fragile the strong can be!

Michael’s “Man in the Mirror” for instance, calls for self-reflection and internal reform. Yet for an ardent lover of his person and works, I can say on authority that Lumba did not ask us to look into the mirror. Sir Charles Kwadwo Fosu became the mirror! He gave us music that told the story we could not articulate for ourselves. In his voice, we saw ourselves! Prophet Lumba had diction and unction to function with distinction in his chosen profession!

One of the most beautiful insights Wɔfa KKB made was about context. The African songwriter, particularly the one steeped in traditional culture, is armed with a different kind of lyrical weapon. While Michael Jackson invoked imagery like butterflies, children, and planetary healing, Lumba walked into the thick forests of our lives and fetched for us metaphors wrapped in firewood, tied in raffia, and dropped at our doorsteps.

When Lumba sings of the pain of loving someone who no longer sees you, he does not go looking for poetic images in the stars. He walks into our living rooms and sits at our dining tables. He sits at the "kurotia" waiting to somewhat, see that lover, walking back home into the arms of a longing partner! Daddy would carefully borrow from the market woman’s cry, from the taxi driver’s lament, from the deep conversations of heartbroken men who are told to be strong.

And yet, when translated, his metaphors travel far beyond human boundaries! Just like proverbs do not need visas, Faithful Words in sweet melodies do not require subtitles. If you tell the truth well enough in one language, the world will find a way to understand you. Lumba sang in Twi, and yet, the message of his songs rings so true across cultures. Songs like “Give Peace a Chance,” “Children of the Future,” and “Yɛnfa Ɔdɔ” speak of a longing for harmony, reconciliation, and love in exactly the same way Michael sang “Heal the World.”

Yes indeed! It is true that Michael had the world! The machinery behind him from a first world country was massive. He had global tours, endless media coverage, state-of-the-art production, and a language spoken by billions.

Lumba did not have all that! Yet indeed! He had Hon Abilolo Billionaire! He had Sir Kwame Papabi and the House of DL! He had the fantasy club of DL! He had our full love and attention! He had our secrets, our pain, our admiration, our confusion, our forgiveness, our silence and our cheers!

He did not have global media, but he had our mothers who hummed his songs while sweeping their compounds! Even the "akutia" songs had their role in compound houses! He had the taxi drivers who played “Aben Wɔ Ha” on repeat as if it were a sermon. He had the church elder who listened in private and understood more truth from those melodies than from many sermons from the Sanhedrin!

In fact, when Ghanaians travelled abroad, they carried Lumba with them. His music became part of their luggage. He remained a kind of cultural passport! I have seen posts from respectable persons like Professor H. Kwasi Prempeh and even some who confess they did not fully grasp the lyrics yet, but his songs kept them company in their sojourning abroad! It reminded them of who they were when the cold and the loneliness tried to erase them!

To those still eager to rank the two, let me say this gently, comparing Michael Jackson and Daddy Lumba is like comparing fire and thunder! They both strike! They both light up the sky! But they do not perform the same task! Michael reached across continents and Lumba reached into the crevices of identity! Michael gave us spectacle yet Lumba gave us solitude! Whereas one dazzled the crowd, the other sat beside us in quiet moments and told us that what we felt was not madness but we were simply being human!

Lumba may not have bossed it in English. But he ruled in Twi! And that should be enough! Chiefly because when you understand him, not just his words but his worldview, you are touched in places that language cannot explain. That is why, upon interpretation and access, every human who truly listens will come to love Daddy Lumba just as they love Michael Jackson.

At the end of the day, both men sang with sacred fire! Whether for the huge crowds of the West or the funerals and festivals of Ghanaians, their voices were vessels. They carried messages of pain, joy, betrayal, hope, heartbreak, and spiritual yearning. The two sang with clarity and power. They sang as though heaven was listening!

May the souls of Sir Charles Kwadwo Fosu and Michael Jackson rest well. May their songs never die! And may they now enjoy the ultimate concert in eternity, not just before the crowds of witnesses of the souls of all our beloveds who went into the grave, but before their Creator!

If there is music in heaven, and I am certain there is, then surely, the moonwalk has met the highlife in perfect harmony!

In their many consolations left on earth in sweet Melodies, we can say It is well with our souls!

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