In Sesotho, a weather forecaster is known as setsebi sa maemo a lehodimo, to which the direct translation is, “one with the knowledge of matters of the sky”.
Lehodimo is interchanged between “sky” and “heaven” depending on context and meaning, thus with a variant interpretation, forecaster can simply mean “soothsayer”.
In October of 2019, a 23-year-old Maseru-born, Lesotho, soothsayer Ntate Stunna, shared a foretelling, on his Facebook page, of his music career meticulously wielding the weather as his metaphor. His forecast was titled: TsaBolepi — weather report.
This was a video that was to be the promotion for his debut EP, Sesotho Fashioneng.
Born Thaabe Letsie, Ntate Stunna officially set his career into motion in 2014 with the release of his first single, Mookho; he had however inadvertently been a scholar of hip hop from around 2004. I had the pleasure of sitting by the shoreline of Lake Letsie and drink from the tales of matlopotlopo le mafafatsane (hail and drizzle) in his experiences thus far, and future plans of his career.
“I fell in love with hip hop before it was fashionable kasi [Lesotho] and we used to listen to the likes of 50 Cent and G-Unit a lot in primary school with a friend of mine through tape decks and later CD players, always putting the songs down on our songbooks. House music was the popular genre in the country at the time, you’d be criticised for listening to hip hop; we were called Mahippi. It wasn’t until late high school that I started writing my own lyrics,” recalls Ntate Stunna.
Stunna is a name that evaporated from the river of fans that were constantly in awe of his stunning use of Sesotho in his raps, and the prefix Ntate (father) seemed fitting following his contested reign in this regard. Prior to having complete confidence in his prowess as a rapper and even ever considering music as a sustainable career, he went by the name of Megahertz.
We reminisce over the age of cassettes and having to dub music straight from radio, and we guffaw about our common experiences of being outsiders in our hometowns because of our choice in music. This then springs a question that surely the time when it wasn’t fashionable to listen to hip hop must have made Lesotho seem quite like barren land for a career in this genre.
What then was the cloud that gave him even the slightest sign of success in this path? He mizzles: “I used to record my lyrics with earphones and a laptop over other people’s songs, but it still seemed farfetched to have your own song, let alone an album. It was only after the group MIP blew up with songs like basadi basadi, and other guys having radio airplay that it became a possibility to build a career from hip hop.”
He halts for a moment, then muses: “There are challenges I look back at now, like availability of studios and finances to push the music, and realise that they were not as dire as they felt at the time, as most people who make it go through such.”
Now, discussing the challenges that artists face and how the weight seems to get lighter the more we grow in the industry, the question of narrative and voice takes form, how certain artists can have an entire career without ever finding their voice.
He internalises this conversation and reflects: “I actually found my voice and narrative at an early stage Ntjamme, from my very first single, mine was only to harness it. Artists such as Ice Prince, P Squared, HHP, Mo Molemi and Kuli Chana, gave me the inspiration to stick to my voice even in the process of reinventing myself. Ke shapa Tshepe nna, this is our style of hip hop in Lesotho. I’m fortunate that people caught up to my voice, from creative storytelling to my choice of rapping in my mother tongue,” he says.
Ntate Stunna’s career experience is a true testament of how the “universe conspires in your favour” when you flow in the stream that life has set for you. Be that as it may, there are always family plans about our lives to consider, which become our own.
I ask him what these plans were, and how he manoeuvred around them.
“I wasn’t born with a silver spoon but went to good schools, the plans were then to study law or IT post matric. But my mother reached serious financial issues in my matric year. I was now forced to focus on the music in what was meant to be my gap year, but out of some fortune, my first single went viral in Lesotho. It was popular but I didn’t make any money in terms of sales, since we don’t get royalties from airplay in Lesotho and hofakasa mmino (pirating of music) is the easiest thing in the 21st century.”
He floods with an almost defeated tone, as if precipitated back into that period. He then brightens up, and rivers a stout sense of pride.
“I came up with a strategy. I printed T-shirts to accompany Mookho, T-shirt hae piratei, o nkasenke T-shirt ka flash (you can’t pirate a T-shirt with a flash-drive). Dikipa tsa matha Ntjaka! (The T-shirts sold brother).
“I even managed to give money to my mother and the home was filled with joy. I made so much money that I could afford to take myself to varsity. It was at this point that I made the crucial decision: ‘do I take this money and go to varsity, or do I invest it back into this thing that made this money and make more of it?' I must admit, I have been living off music ever since.”
Ntate Stunna has been employing this strategy since; he has along with the Sesotho Fashioning EP released a fashion line, which includes a blanket in partnership with Aranda.
Our conversation reaching its ocean, we splatter thunderously about his single, Ke Thatha, being a pebble throw away from one million views on YouTube, and what this means to him as an independent artist. He waves: “Being independent has been a choice, but after the pandemic, we have found a need to partner with someone who will share our vision, and not put us in any compromising position.
“The choice has led us here. A million views as an independent artist would be an incredible milestone, being this close, knowing it’s only a matter of days means a lot, gives me the realisation that my art is growing. I have been working with my manager, Barry Matseletsele, who handles all my bookings and PR and my godfather, Mokherane Tsatsanyane, who has been my main financial backup from day one, and has been providing all kinds of support.
Ntho e ngoe e khothatsang (another encouraging thing) is seeing your art move from one level to another, reaching a million gives you the belief that your next release will reach better.”
How does one leave such a conversation without asking for a word of advice to share with upcoming artists? Ntate Stunna candidly says: “Eba wena”(Be yourself).
From the looks of things, if the current and the past is anything to go by, mecheso e tla dula e nyoloha ha Ntate Stunna a drop'a.
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