In late 1982, he wrote a very famous song. One that you probably have heard and love very much too. He recorded it officially in 1983. And some of the biggest names in Congolese music scene crossed borders and sent agents to buy the song and all it's rights from him.
By the time he was 12, his fame broke beyond Katanga. By 17, he was a well sought session guitaist.
In 1968 Ndala Kasheba was invited, together with his then 4 years old band, Fauvette, to tour Tanzania. The arrangement was typically a few shows here and there, a grand performance with local bands and possibly a TV performance and recording.
It didn't happen.
He opted to stay on a refugee status. Or simply, he did not denounce his native Congolese citizenship.
Many more of his contemporaries had done that, anyway. And it was a visible pattern.
Talent and skill was at optimal saturation.
Everyone knows the answer; they are just waiting for their turn on the blackboard.
The music scene was utterly saturated and concentrated.
For their music to flourish, Ndala and his peers had to look beyond Kinshasa and Brazzaville.
Ndala found virgin territory in Tanzania. In fact, TZ revere his name still, and speak highly of him.
Now, the issue of sharing, selling and covering music was not a problem. It was ownership, rights and actual cash transfer were.
.
Anyway, back to Ndala, and the mighty sing he did. And it's importance.
Which allegedly never came. For [most of the] song[s] he wrote for her.
Which is quite sad if you think about it.
That very important song is Dezo Dezo, popularly credited to Tshala Mwana.
You can hear every instrument distinctly. There's zero noise or distortion. Ndala’s original is pure majestic annihilation of the jam.
But what he really wants is for us to listen to the song. And what he is singing. The message.
She replaces the lead guitar, almost, with the bass guitar (Mutindi kamu hiya) and the keyboard, kept in place by the snare almost like a metronome. And then she takes it further into the dance floor.
But technically, she delivers nothing but dance. And she almost got away with it.
“Masele, Masele, Masele.
Unapenda Dezo."