Late at night on September 10, 2011 at around 01:00am, while I was asleep in a fabulous 5 star Hotel Kasha on the eastern shores of Zanzibar, little did I know that a horrific tragedy was unfolding on the ship, MV Spice Islander. It was sinking with over 1,000 passengers on board.
I woke up in the morning, had my breakfast when suddenly my iPhone News app messaged me. Over 600 people lost at sea in the sunken ship!! Well, it actually turned out to be over 1,000 people were on board.
It was terrible and deeply saddening. Here I was on this island of Paradise, experiencing the very best hotels, food, drink and let me also mention all the incredible love & kindness I received throughout the week. Yes, but now this ship had sunk and people were dead, some still in the ship, others lost at sea and yet even more people holding on to anything that would keep them afloat from the time the ship sank, all through the night and until the morning light when finally help was on it’s way.
We’re not talking western quality help, like helicopters, coast guard ships, search & rescue teams. No man, we’re talking local African fishing boats, motor boats, and other small vessels.
I was supposed to check out of Hotel Kasha that morning and head back to Stone Town, that was the plan. While I was staying at Kasha, I was enjoying my time writing new music. I was working on a brand new song in this fantastic place but now it was time to leave. I did not want to! I wanted to stay there but the hotel was fully booked and they needed my room. Then, the manager got an idea. She made a phone call and 2 minutes later she came back to me. She says, “OK, you see that villa over there with the red roof?” She points out past the hotel property to what looks like a Malibu Beach house. “Yes, I see it,” I answered her. “That’s where you can stay for tonight and for as long as you wish, since you are the friend of Abeid & his family.” Abeid is the founder of the Jazz festival I had perfomed at in Stone Town the previous week and is also like a brother to me. So, I packed my bags and was transported over to the Kandili Villa, a villa that is approximately 1,500 Sq. Meters, two stories with terraces in each bed room overlooking the Indian Ocean.
But back to the story of this horrible tragedy while now I was sitting all nice and neatly tucked away in a private Kandili Villa on the ocean.
What could I do? How could I help? As I sat here on the terrace overlooking this magnificent view, I thought to myself how incredible it is that I was brought here to this place and not back in Stone Town.
You see, if I were back at Stone Town, by this time there would be hundreds if not thousands of people there in the town and at the beaches searching, crying, panicking, trying to find their loved ones who were on that ship, the MV Spice Islander. But for some reason, I was spared from witnessing this horrible scene.
Just one week before, all the artists were in Stone Town to perform. We were together with thousands of wonderful and beautiful people, all of us smiling, waving at each other, showing incredible kindness to everyone. It was magical and heavenly. Then after the festival, most artists returned home except a few of us. After about 4 days, the few of us who remained on Zanzibar were now ready to return home, everyone except me.
I was to remain on the island. I was the only person who had performed at the Jazz festival to still be on Zanzibar. Completely alone in this villa. Completely alone with my thoughts and feelings of deep sadness over what had just occurred, knowing that all those amazing people I saw at Stone Town were mostly all gone now on that ship. Why? How? What was I to do? I wanted to do something to help these people. Help them to hold on to that wonderful love & joy & happiness they all shared with me.
I went for a walk off the grounds of my private villa, past the 5 star Hotel Kasha where I had stayed a few nights before I moved to the Kandili Villa and I walked towards the authentic & beautiful African village I saw as I first was driven to my hotel. A young teenage boy followed me and walked with me towards this village. Speaking English to me, he would be my guide. We walked into the village and I felt like for the first time I was really in this world, this African world that I only saw before on TV. I was in my own Discovery Channel, real life show and I was the strange, tall & rich tourist.
I stuck out big time but I didn’t mind and neither did they. Children were running towards me greeting me, “Jambo!” Local men hanging out together in front of their mud huts or small kiosks, looking at me a bit strange at first until I greeted them with a, “What’s up brotha’s?” Ah! this guy is American and he’s cool with us, was the expression I read on their faces before they would then say to me, “Ah, Jambo, jambo.”
Then I saw these women sitting together with their children. I could not pass this opportunity up so I asked my little tour guide guy, “please ask them if I could sit and take a picture with them.” I got the OK and walked towards the women and children. Suddenly, it seemed like the whole village came running after me. People hurried over to where we were, a woman ran straight up to me and shoved her infant child right into my arms. I was completely surprised but I took the baby in my arms. I looked down at her face and what did I see? Makeup! This infant had black eye liner and other designs on her sweet little face. Then the camera started flashing away. I got a few great shots and I gave the elderly woman sitting just to my right, approximately $5.00 for the photo opp.
As my guide and I were walking back to my Kandili Villa, he told me that he was from the next village but that in this village alone, where we just walked through, there were at least 10 people who were lost at sea. Nobody has heard or learned as to the whereabouts of these 10 people and it was feared that they drowned with the sunken ship.
That hit me like a rock in my chest. I cried and then I prayed. “Dear God, please I ask you to give me a song. I don’t want a sad song but a song that will uplift these people in their times of loss and sadness.”
This song I share with you on my page is that song. It is called, “Keep your head to the sky.” I wrote this song on the terrace of my Kandili Villa. I came back to Copenhagen and recorded the song with some great musicians, the same guys who performed with me in Zanzibar.
I hope you enjoy the story and the song.
