The maximum security prison in Zomba, Malawi is not the sort of place where Grammy-nominated albums are typically recorded.
But a group of Zomba’s inmates, many of them serving life sentences for offences including murder and theft, have found themselves nominated for a the prestigious awards in the best world music album category.
Announced last week, the group – known as the Zomba Prison Band – are joined on the shortlist by some of world music’s biggest stars: Ladysmith Black Mambazo, Angelique Kidjo, Gilberto Gil and Anoushka Shankar.
“I was shocked. Absolutely shocked… The other four nominated artists all have roots that go back decades, so to see this group of completely unknown people from what is really a lesser known country get recognised is really humbling,” said Ian Brennan, who produced the album.
Recorded in the summer of 2013, 16 inmates wrote and performed the songs for the album, I Have No Everything Here.
They are the first Malawian musicians to be nominated at the prestigious Grammys.
But Brennan doesn’t know if the prisoners involved have been informed of their historic nomination, as all communication with them must go through the prison commissioner or local NGOs.
A new challenge
Brennan has an impressive track-record for discovering unknown music from across the world, most notably producing Malian band Tinariwen’s Grammy award winning album Tassili.
But working in a Malawian prison presented a new challenge, he says, and gaining access was particularly arduous. Working with his wife and collaborator Marilena Delli, the two had to gain the trust of the inmates and prison’s commissioner. “We sent a million pieces of paperwork,” Brennan recalls.
When they were finally granted access, finding talented participants was the easy bit, the producers says. About a dozen men had already formed a band of their own, and had been given a small room with electricity to practice in. That’s where Brennan set up a makeshift recording studio.
“The room is next to a car and welding shop where they do a lot of work for the prison. There’s a carpentry workshop too. Part of the challenge is that we had to record next to these shops, and there was a competition for sound,” he said.
There are relatively few women in the prison, only about 50, and they proved more reluctant to take part. “They do a lot of communal dancing and singing to lift their spirits, but they claimed to have no songwriters,” said Brennan.
“Many of the women are there for life, and because it’s a smaller group it’s more tight-knit and there is more peer pressure. We tried to coax everyone to sing a song of their own, [but] everyone said no.
“But right at the end of our time there, one women said OK, and she got up and sang a song, and as soon as she did that, it was like a dam wall had broken and the floodgates had opened. People were queuing up to sing, one after another, some coming back for a second or third time.”
The final album reflects this unleashed enthusiasm: 16 different prisoners have been credited on the album, although they’re unlikely to be allowed to attend the awards ceremony held in Los Angeles in February.
One of the women featured on the album has subsequently died in prison, at just 37 years of age.
The hour-long record, mostly sung in the local Chichewa language, was cut down from more than six hours of recordings, leaving plenty of material for a second album.
“It was just beautiful to be there and to surrender to the process, for me it’s a peak, peak experience. You just hope to leave with some really beautiful things that you can share with the world,” said Brennan.
- This article was corrected on 16 December 2015. The original said a man featured on the album had died in prison.
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