Tag: Yeni Kuti

  • No regrets being a single parent-YENI KUTI

    No regrets being a single parent-YENI KUTI

    Dancer and choreographer, Yeni Kuti, needs no introduction in the Nigerian entertainment scene. The eldest daughter of the legendary Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, Yeni says that she has no regrets growing up under the enigma that is Fela. She talks to JANE KOLADE about life as the daughter of the Afro-beat maestro, her family’s love for music, activism, and the country Nigeria. Excerpts:

    FROM secretary to dancer and now TV presenter, how did the transformation come to be?

    For me, becoming a secretary was a means of survival at the time. It was a means to an end; a job, while dancing was a passion. I actually studied Secretarial Studies, but dancing was something I always wanted to do. However, the lifespan of a dancer is limited. Things like old age and loss of agility are real.

    One can actually have a heart attack on stage. After dancing, going into presenting was a way of remaining in the world of entertainment. I had toyed with the idea of a talk show for a while with my friend, Carol King, but she was busy with Tinsel at the time. Prior to joining TVC, we were actually having meetings with MITV but the discussions did not continue due to lack of commitment on their part. It was after that I got the TVC offer.

    Congratulations on the recent nuptials of your daughter. As a grandmother in the making, how do you maintain your youthful looks?

    I think I look it. It’s makeup. When I put on makeup…

    What else do you do, apart from TV presenting?

    I run the Shrine, organise my dance class, choreograph the dancers in my brother’s band, and arrange Felabration. Is that not enough for one person?

    How has being Fela’s daughter affected your life?

    Journalists keep asking me how it was like being Fela’s daughter, but I never had any other dad, so.

    Were you pampered or given any form of preferential treatment?

    Not at all. There was no preferential treatment. In fact, we were constantly picked on because of who our father was. We suffered the pain of not knowing what would happen to him. When you go to school in the morning, you would not know if you would meet him when you come back. During one of his court cases, I remember being worried about him all day in school, wondering if he would be jailed. I also remember visiting him in prison and being sad that he could not go home with us and many such experiences.

    Looking back, would you have preferred to have had it any other way?

    No. I have no regrets. It is not possible for me to regret being my father’s daughter because it has no place in my life. Also, there is really no point.

    Your ex passed on a little over a year ago. How was the experience?

    It was very traumatic. It’s expected when someone dies after being ill. It’s still sad, but expected. But when someone dies in an accident, it’s totally unexpected. So when my cousin, ‘Lande, called me to tell me that he had been in a motorcycle accident, I felt sad.

    Apparently, someone who saw what happened, and knew that we were somehow related, called saying that he was unconscious and had been taken to St. Nicholas Hospital. I called his wife and rushed to the hospital. I was in a dilemma whether or not to tell my daughter. Although the hospital authorities told us that his condition was not critical, at some point I realised that it was. So I called Rolari and asked her to return home.

    Unfortunately, she got home too late; he died the morning she was to return. When she was told, she said she knew that her father had passed on because he had come to her and told her that he could not wait for her as the pain was too much. She was devastated. It was so sad. A few months ago, she called me and told me that she was feeling so depressed. I told her that same day was the anniversary of her father’s passing. They were so close.

    How has it been, being a single parent?

    It is very stressful. Every little thing, my daughter asks me to go to the hospital, and go for checkups, always saying “I can’t afford to lose you now.”

    As an offspring of the Anikulapo-Kuti family, what do you think is the secret of your success? Is it in your gene pool, or in behavioural traits?

    I don’t know. I do know that we are forthright, proud Nigerians who don’t want to be caught doing bad things. Also, our grandparents were high achievers, so it’s a challenge for the present generation to achieve because they were such great achievers. So we can only try to carry the torch, which is why Dede (my grandmother) is my role model.

    How do you manage to maintain relationships in your family even though it is polygamous?

    The secret is staying close to each other and realising that it goes beyond the individual. We would rather put the family first.

    Were you all close in your father’s lifetime?

    Yes, we were. We were quite close.

    Have you started your dance class?

    Yes. I have. It holds every Saturday at the Freedom Park.

    What advice do you have for people just starting out, and the not so young who are dissatisfied with their careers?

    My simple advice is that they should follow their dreams.

    At over fifty and still looking quite attractive, any plans to remarry?

    I am in a very happy and fulfilling relationship. We might as well be married because we are so happy together.  Sometimes we stay together, and sometimes we don’t. We travel together. However, I have been married in the past, so marriage is not a do or die affair for me.

    What are your guiding principles in relationships?

    When my daughter was getting married, I told her the following: Learn to communicate, leave outsiders out of your relationship with your spouse, and make it just the two of you, no interferences please. That is very common in Nigeria. It should be just about you and your spouse.

    As a social activist, would you ever consider going into politics?

    The only way that would happen is if it became honest. There are a few people like that but most politicians are not. I don’t want to be part of what is currently happening, so until the criminal elements are weeded out, no!

    How do you feel when you listen to Fela’s songs?

    Many of the things he spoke about were things that were happening at the time, but no one was listening. He was sending a message but we waited too long to heed his warning or listen. I listened anyway, but many did not, and they think back to those times, and Nigeria is a thousand times worse today.

  • Secret of our success, by Yeni Kuti

    The Kuti family is known for success in their various endeavours, especially in music. In the last three generations, the family has blazed a trail in music, academia, and civil rights activism. This might be baffling to most people, but in a recent interview, Yeni Kuti, the Afro beat creator’s eldest child and daughter credits their success to hard work and a forthright nature.

    The dancer/choreographer turned TV presenter says, “We are a forthright and proud Nigerian family, and would not want to be caught doing bad things. Also, our forbearers were high achievers, so we can only try to carry on the torch, which is why Dede (my grandmother) is my role model”

    As anyone who visited the shrine during Fela’s lifetime can testify, he was an avid rehearser who practiced playing his instrument daily, and could be heard blowing his sax late in the night, into the wee hours. She said, “Years ago, my grandmother teased Femi for not consistently practicing his Saxophone, Femi felt embarrassed, and never gave up playing his instrument every day ever since.” “Femi is a self taught trumpet player; he continues to practice his art day in day out.”

    The Kuti family is the popular western Nigerian family that gifted Nigeria with popular and illustrious individuals who have made names that resonated far beyond the borders of Nigeria. The list spans three different generations over the years. Fela Anikulapo-Kuti; iconic afro-beat maestro, Professor Olikoye Ransome-Kuti, and Beko Ransome-Kuti, all of blessed memory wrote their names in the sands of time in their chosen fields, Fela in music, Olikoye in medicine, and Beko in Law, all three activists were off-springs of the late Reverend Josiah Jesse Ransome-Kuti and Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti, both pacesetters in their own right, He as a cleric, educationist, and talented singer which earned him the nickname “the singing minister”, while his wife was a feminist advocate, and politician.

    The third generation is also holding their own, as Femi Anikulapo-Kuti has been nominated twice for the Grammy awards, while his brother Seun is a successful afro-beat musician.

  • It’s hard  to admit  that I’m 53 —Yeni Kuti

    It’s hard to admit that I’m 53 —Yeni Kuti

    Yeni, the gorgeous daughter of the iconoclastic Afrobeat musician, Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, recently clocked 53. The occasion witnessed a milder celebration than the one that took place when she turned 50. PAUL UKPABIO met her cozy home on the outskirts of Lagos, and the popular dancer spoke about life as Fela’s daughter, her spinster status and her love of dogs. She also went down memory lane to recall the invasion of her late father’s home by heavily armed soldiers in the 1970s; an incident in which Fela’s aged mother, Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti was seriously injured after the invading soldiers allegedly threw her down from the upper floor of a storey building. Excerpts:

    HOW does it feel to clock 53? In a way, I feel different. Because once you reach my present age, people give you the kind of respect they would not give you while you were in your 40s. Now they don’t look at me as another omoge (young lady) or something like that. They see me now as someone above 50 years. I prefer being over 50 to get that respect.

    What was your impression of people who were more than 50 years old when you were much younger?

    I used to see them as old people (laughs).

    Would you consider yourself an old woman now?

    I remember an incident a few years back when I was to travel and had to fill the immigration form. I was already 50 then. Afterwards, I said to myself: ‘So, you are 50? Wow!’ It is okay when you are 50, but when you actually have to write it, it becomes a different ball game. Then when you are 53, like I am today, you look and say the person is old. That must be how our kids look at me now. My daughter says when you are old, you are old. But I tell her, ‘Will you shut up?!’ I now know how my parents felt when we called them old at over 50. But I guess old is old. Surprisingly though, I am still doing some of the things I used to do when I was much younger. For instance, I still dance professionally.

    How is your body now?

    My body talks to me every day. The other day I was training the girls and I was doing the dance routines and realised that I was panting. I told myself that yeah, this is old age. Even when I try to do exercise, my body pains me for like three days. So, the body talks to me.

    Does that mean you no longer dance on stage?

    Not on stage anymore. I just train the girls and do choreography, though I danced on stage some months back when one of the dancers did not come. So, I danced the whole routine. I felt good after because it was as if I had shed some weight. That is one good thing about dance; it keeps you trim.

    Do you still control your weight?

    Yes, I try to control my weight. But since I turned 50, I’ve done a bad job of taking care of my weight. I turned 50 and just let it go. But weeks before I turned 50, I trimmed down because I wanted to be an omoge at my 50th birthday celebration. But after the celebration, I slowed down. Three weeks after the milestone event, I started exercising again. Since then, pressure upon pressure has affected the size of my body from time to time. I know that I have to always put my shape and size in top form. I lose weight when I need to. Right now, I’m not fat.

    You are the woman at the centre of everything at the Shrine. How have you managed to keep it going?

    I’ve done so with the help of my staff. I can’t say it has been easy, but I don’t believe that our Creator would put anything on our table when we are not able to deal with it. Right now, we are dealing with it. Yesterday, I had a meeting with my staff till late in the night. We are always having meetings to deliberate and re-strategise on some things that disturb us at the shrine from time to time.

    What are the challenges that you face managing the shrine?

    One of the challenges is the boys outside the shrine. We can’t seem to get rid of them no matter the amount of grammar we speak. When we first moved there, there were so many empty plots and a lot of the boys stayed on the empty plots. But now, the owners have claimed their lands and are now building. So the boys have moved out to converge in front of the shrine and it is so difficult to move them and people are complaining about them. The boys, on the other hand, feel it is their birthright because Fela was a man of the people and this is Fela’s shrine. So, one is trying not to make enemies with them. So, that is one of the difficult challenges we now face.

    Are you afraid that it may turn out to be another Pebble Street affair, which occurred while Fela was alive?

    We will never allow it. For instance, we don’t allow shops outside the shrine. If you allow it outside your property, it’s your business. But again, more people are building, so they will soon be driving them and I don’t know where they will go then.

    Inside the shrine, it is written that drugs are not allowed. How are you able to checkmate drugs?

    It’s very difficult, but we do.

    The music at the shrine is very interesting and comes with a lot of energy expressed in gyration. It is so with the kind of music Fela played and Femi now plays. What has drug got to do with music?

    I really don’t know. I suppose that a lot of artistes who take drugs do so for inspiration. But I don’t know because I don’t compose. It can also be because musicians have hard times. For instance, they are on the road for months on end while on tour or shows. Maybe it is an outlet for them to just smoke. You would find that a lot of artistes take one drug or the other. When it is soft, like igbo (marijuana), it is not that bad, unlike when they are into cocaine or heroin. Those ones kill a lot of them! They think it makes them to relax, but they get addicted to it. Which I think is very sad.

    Are you saying that consumption of marijuana is not alien to African culture?

    You know our land is very rich. Anything can grow here. Even English apple, which people thought could not grow in Nigeria, grows here and other parts of Africa. I don’t know if it is an African thing; I just know that our soil is very rich. Government should pay attention to our vegetation; not concentrate on oil alone because oil profits their pocket. Let them encourage the planting of food across the country.

    Having said that, maybe that is why we have marijuana farms everywhere, because it is profitable for the people that are doing it. Since I don’t own a marijuana farm, I don’t know about the profit and I don’t ever intend to do that.

    So why do fans take drugs more than the musicians whose songs they enjoy?

    I think that is an assumption. I don’t think it is a correct assumption too. I know a lot of people who come in to listen to Femi play, who do not even drink beer and have never taken a joint (wrap of Indian hemp) before. I know a particular guy who comes every Sunday, who I have never seen with a bottle of beer. So, that assumption boxes everybody together, and that is wrong. Femi performs and he doesn’t smoke or drink. It is about individual’s taste.

    Let’s talk about your childhood…

    My childhood has helped me because we didn’t grow up as silver spoon kids like a lot of people think. Fela did not spoil us with money. I had friends who were spoilt with money. Even to get school fees from my father was war, not to talk of enjoyment money. But that taught us to appreciate what you have. It has helped me a lot because when my friends were going to London, my father said to us, ‘London for what?’ So, he didn’t let us go. We were here. It taught us to appreciate more.

    I used to wash my own clothes. What they didn’t allow us to do was to iron our clothes. We did all those things without house helps and that helped me a lot to become who I am today. That helped my brother too because he grew up the hard way. My mom is from the Taylor family. They are Lagos people.

    Did your mum spoil you?

    My mum?!

    Some people say you are tough. Did that come from the kind of childhood you had?

    I don’t know. It is the people who don’t know me that say I am tough. Those who know me say that I am just too soft. It is easier to get to me than my siblings. If Femi says no, it is no. But my compassion is much. I don’t even know where I got the title Iron Lady from, because I am not an iron lady.

    Is it then because of your soft nature that you are the one that manages or oversees the family business?

    I think it was just a natural progression. I don’t think I was allowed; it came naturally perhaps because I am the oldest in the family. I don’t know how it came about. That is why I said earlier that God would not give you what you cannot handle.

    Did your parents see that relationship qualities in you?

    I don’t know. And did I even see that in myself? I don’t know. I just do what I have to do. There are even things that I do not because I like to do them, but I have to do them whether I like it or not.

    In a family with name, talent and some people you don’t even know but tell you they belong to your family, how easy has it been to carry everybody along?

    It hasn’t been easy, but we have managed. We have learnt to adapt to the situation.

    What gives you the stay power when you are under pressure?

    The determination to succeed gives me the stay power. I hate to fail. I know that as a human being I say, ‘hey, the wahala is too much.’ But when I get to that point, I tune off, rejuvenate myself and move on again.

    How did you come about being a dancer?

    I’ve always wanted to dance from the time I was 5. When Fela’s dancer was dancing, we were there learning from her. She used to teach my sister and I. We loved the way she danced. In secondary school, I was in the cultural troupe. I wanted to go to an advanced dancing school then, but my father couldn’t afford it. They had burnt his house by then. So what I did was to do a secretarial course, worked as a secretary for a while, and when Femi said he was ready to start his band, I ditched my job. The rest is history.

    Tell us briefly what life has been as a dancer…

    I enjoy dancing, so it has been a pleasure to dance. It was fantastic going all over the world. Places I would never have gone to.

    Would you say you were too young when the Kalakuta incident occurred? Did you understand what was going on?

    I was not too young; I was about 16. We had gone to school. We were not living with Fela, but Sola’s school was on that path. So we used to stop over there since she had to pass through there to get to her school. Femi and Sola rushed home from school that day and woke up my mum. It was in the afternoon and she was having her siesta. They chorused that there were many soldiers in front of Fela’s house. My mum thought it was like one of those other times, when they came home like that and said the same thing, and they would go round looking for where the soldiers had carried him to. But this time around, Femi and my sister said that the soldiers did not allow them to enter the place. We tried to get to Kalakuta. It was about 2 pm.

    In those days, school closed at a reasonable time: 1.30pm and not 3pm when the brain is tired. On the road, the traffic was bad, so we went back home. Femi was outside playing when some boys were passing and said to him, ‘You are here playing, your father’s house is burning!’ So, Femi rushed in and told my mum and my uncle. His message was taken literarily as we do in Nigeria whenever there is trouble. We didn’t know that it was real fire.

    The traffic was heavy but we didn’t know that it was the fire in Kalakuta that was causing the heavy traffic. This was about 5 pm. We finally got there at 8 pm. When we got there, my mum started screaming. We couldn’t drive down there totally. We walked and people had their hands over their heads. It was my mum that told us to crouch on the floor because we thought they were looking for the Kutis. My mum was shouting that they had killed them. It was a really emotional day for us all.

    We didn’t find Fela until three days later. He was in a military hospital. It was really sad. So I remember very well. It was 1977.

    Was he able to make a comeback after ‘government’ destroyed Kalakuta?

    He lost everything. Fela was a very resilient man. He told me about his dreams while he was in jail that when he got back, everything would still be there. But in reality, everything was gone. He didn’t have anywhere to stay and he had about 70 people to take care of. He had one hotel that he had been using for his girlfriends. The owner allowed him to stay there. What happened was that because he was spending so much money on hotels, he eventually ran out of cash. And he had some aides who were duping him. He lost virtually everything. He started from the beginning again. He never got back to that state financially but, at least, he was able to survive.

    How was Fela’s relationship with your mum?

    My mum loved him very much, but Fela had plenty of women. My mum accepted his women. She loved him. Towards the end, she gave him a gap. My mum never divorced him but gave him a wide gap because of his wahala. I guess towards the end of his life, he realised how so much she loved him, because each time we went to greet him, he used to send to her rolls of Marlborough cigarettes, peppermint and trebor. My mom loved these things, and when we brought them to her, she used to exclaim, ‘Wow!’ That was the extent of their relationship at that time.

    What do you miss about Fela?

    A lot of things, particularly the gists. I miss him. He was my father. But I’m also an old woman now; I’m 53, so I have to forge ahead.

    What can you say about Femi’s career?

    I think it is a misconception for people to say I play a big role in Femi’s career, because Femi is in charge of his career. I can help out where I can, that is, in the dancing and also act as an intermediary in booking him for a show. But that’s about that. He is a strong man. He always knows what he wants. I’m just an assistant.

    What does the Afrikan Shrine mean to you?

    It is a legacy. It was built as a memorial to Fela. It is a continuation of a legacy our father left for us: a legacy for Africa.

    How different is the Shrine today from what it used to be in Fela’s days?

    I guess it is better managed. We try to make sure the toilets are always clean and drinks are cold. Fela was playing, so he could not manage as well.

    Apart from dance and music, what other passions do you have?

    I co-host a TV show, which I enjoy doing.

    Will you ever marry again?

    Not too sure. I am happy the way I am.