Wasafiri

ISSN: 0269-0055 (Print) 1747-1508 (Online) Journal homepage: https://www.tandfonline.com/loi/rwas20

Rap Music in Mauritius

Babita Thannoo

To cite this article: Babita Thannoo (2012) Rap Music in Mauritius, Wasafiri, 27:4, 35-41, DOI:
10.1080/02690055.2012.716595

To link to this article: https://doi.org/10.1080/02690055.2012.716595

Published online: 20 Nov 2012.

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 Rap Music in Mauritius
FORGING ‘CONNECTIVE MARGINALITIES’ AND
RESISTANCE
Introduction
Babita Over the past decades, rap has
Thannoo emerged as one of the most important
political protest forms embraced by
youths across the world. This global appeal, as well as hip
hop’s inscription within globalisation’s processes of
capitalism, has been the subject of substantial critical
investigation (Borthwick and Moy 156
75). Yet, many of the
routes and circuits through which hip hop reaches local
spaces have been overlooked. This article contributes to
existing literature by investigating how rap contends with other
black diasporic music forms such as reggae, ragga and
dancehall music in Mauritius. It demonstrates how, in a
multi-ethnic postcolony, rap remains a powerful means of
vindication for youths advocating black consciousness and
sheds light on the complex local political situation that
legitimises these youths’ appropriation of rap.
Background to Mauritius
Located in the south west Indian Ocean, Mauritius has
experienced a turbulent history of European colonisation.
During the course of colonial expansion, the island underwent
exponential growth as a sugar regime based primarily on
slavery and, subsequently, indentured labour. The Mauritian
plantation drew its labour force from across the Indian Ocean,
leading to an intricate creolisation process that reflects the
history of the Indian Ocean in terms of ongoing cultural contact
and movement. This history has resulted in a complex
postcolony marked by a dominant popular nationalist
discourse of economic success, ‘multiculturalism’ and
‘diversity’ (see Carroll and Carroll, ‘Botswana and Mauritius’
464
86; Eriksen, Common Denominators 159; Srebnik 7
20).
This discourse, echoed by scholarly reflections on relative
social harmony between its multiple ethnic groups, was
radically reviewed in the aftermath of the February 1999 race
riots on the island (see Carroll and Carroll, ‘Ethnic Conflict’
Wasafiri Vol. 27, No. 4, December 2012, pp. 35
41
ISSN 0269-0055 print/ISSN 1747-1508 online # 2012 Wasafiri
http://www.tandfonline.com http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/02690055.2012.716595
25
50; Eriksen, ‘1999 Mauritian Riots’ 78
95). Sparked by the
death of a popular artist, Kaya, in police custody, the riots
demonstrated the discontent and socio-economic
marginalisation of a whole section of the population. This
group, generally termed ‘Ti-Creoles’ in popular parlance, is
associated with Mauritians deemed to be of African descent
due to their phenotypical traits. The subaltern position of
this group is described in terms of the Creole malaise
phenomenon (ie Creole sickness) in Mauritius (Boswell 41).
Eriksen further devised the term ‘residual group’ to describe
their oppressed position in Mauritian society (Eriksen,
Common Denominators 176).
Mauritius is a deeply divided society where ethnic
boundaries are maintained at a constitutional level. The
Constitution categorises the population into the following
groups: Hindu, Muslim, Chinese and General Population.
The amorphous latter category lumps together members of
the Ti-Creole community (also termed Afro-Mauritians),
Franco-Mauritians (an elite group of descendants of former
European colonial masters) and people who do not belong to
other groups (ie of mixed backgrounds). The Constitution thus
reinforces and reflects the disenfranchisement of the Ti-Creole
community in Mauritian society (Chan Low 405). This act has
been institutionally reinforced by the process of Hinduisation
that Mauritius has gradually undergone since its
independence in 1968. Given that Hindus constitute the
majority of the population (around sixty-eight per cent),
they have gradually exercised a hegemonic influence over the
social, economic, cultural and political landscapes of the
island. In addition, the globalisation process in recent
decades has encouraged the development of strong links with
Asia. Economic and cultural alliances with Asia have been
forged to the detriment of Africa, contributing to the symbolic
erasure of that continent in the Mauritian imaginary
(Aumeerally 172). Ongoing prevalent colonial prejudice
against the black man
ie the Ti-Creole
has entrenched this
erasure. Described as a laid-back group marked by anomie,
crime and a pleasure-seeking tendency, the Ti-Creole
36 Rap Music in Mauritius
population has been significantly denied the means to achieve
socio-economic progress (Bunwaree 28).
Global Hip Hop and Youth Movements
Paul Gilroy’s seminal work on black identity lays emphasis
on sonic affinities between members of the black diaspora
(Gilroy 78). Language, bodily gestures, body significations and
desires encompassed in musical practices are deemed
multiple signifiers of black identity. According to Gilroy, these
signifiers combine to create
the imaginary effect of an internal racial core or
essence by acting on the body through specific
mechanisms and recognition that are produced in
the intimate inter-action of performer and crowd.
(Gilroy 102)
These inform communicative strategies transcending barriers
of space and time. In the African diaspora, hip hop has
constituted this communicative strategy, which has expanded
into a global phenomenon. Tricia Rose affirms that traffic in
black culture is tied to the traffic in black bodies upon which
black cultural exchange is based (Rose 168). Whilst hip hop
has been appropriated across the world by different cultures,
in Mauritius its fundamental association with black culture
has currency for a marginalised Ti-Creole population. Black
politics in Mauritius, characterised by the rise of black
consciousness, denote the ‘re-localisation’ of rap to address
local realities. The politics of blackness vindicated and
embodied within Mauritian rap echoes Lusane’s reflection that
‘Rap is the voice of alienated, frustrated and rebellious black
youth who recognise their vulnerability and marginality’
(Lusane 40).
Halifu Osumare asserts that hip hop in Africa highlights
connective marginalities through imaginative metaphor and
pumping base rhythms, artistically addressing how these
patterns manifest themselves in different localities (Osumare
266). Osumare extends these connective marginalities to
global youths engaged in hip hop movements beyond the
black diasporic connection. Whilst hip hop aesthetics founded
on polyrhythm, antiphony, orality and embodiment underpin
an African cultural connection, hip hop’s global appropriation
by global youths demonstrates the relevance of its politics and
rhythms. Nonetheless, the highly commercialised nexus of hip
hop has been critically dismissed as the underside of its
global grip on youths’ imagination. With reference to
globalisation theory of the ‘translocal’ phenomenon of music,
Simonett initially asserted that rap allows for creativity and
political engagement with the local space despite its deep
imbrications with a rampant industry exploiting youth’s
consumerist tendencies (Simonett 227). However, she later
reviewed this position, questioning to what extent cultural
expressions can negotiate with the industry’s hegemonic
audio-visual presence. In the context of Mauritius, I will
demonstrate how, despite the global commercialisation of rap,
its local political relevance remains anchored within the
advocacy of black politics.
The ramifications of global rap traffic in Mauritius date
back to the 1990s when youths from deprived urban areas
adopted hip hop as a means of expression as well as a form of
entertainment. Rap’s revolutionary political rhetoric and
African rhythms gripped Mauritian youths across all ethnic
groups but, for the Ti-Creole population from which local rap
artists mostly hail, hip hop’s appeal rested on its counter-
hegemonic potential. The production of rap is now anchored in
a prolific music industry exploiting the avenues of current
technology and commerce. Hip hop’s global appeal as the
voice of the youth, its association with technology and visual
culture, and its convoluted relationship with commercialism
and power have established a definitive presence in Mauritius.
Hip hop, of which rap is a prime signifier, however, emerged in
a complex musical context where reggae was already
becoming a primary means of vindicating black consciousness
for Ti-Creole artists.
The belated rise of black consciousness in the 1990s
has been related to the absence of black political leadership
and black intellectualism in Mauritius (Alpers 85). Jocelyn
Chan Low charts its delayed origins in the spread of the
Rastafarian faith and the popularity of seggae music (the
fusion of sega, Mauritian local music, and reggae) during this
period (Chan Low 57). Artists Ras Natty Baby and Kaya
pioneered the phenomenon of seggae that overtook sega in
terms of political relevance. Mauritian sega music constitutes
a form of embodied resistance, the origins of which date back
to slave practices on the plantation. Its commodification into a
marketing tool for tourism, as well as a strong national
emblem, has considerably lessened the impact of its protest
form. Sega’s politics of pleasure, whilst aptly sustaining its
commodification, have made it less appealing as a political
instrument for youths attracted to the dynamism and potency
of new musical forms. Seggae, by contrast, has gained
legitimacy amidst the Ti-Creole population, since it carries the
powerful import of Rastafarian philosophy * a belief system
which artists have fervently embraced in a context where
African and Malagasy sacred practices are demonised. The
powerful influences of a Catholic Church dominated by the
Franco-Mauritian elite and Hindu hegemonic culture have
strongly contributed to the demonisation and erasure of
African sacred practices. In this context, Rastafarian sacred
philosophy has provided the basis for the development of
black social consciousness amidst the Ti-Creole community in
a society dominated by ethnic allegiances to ancestral
homelands.
Since the 1990s reggae and Rastafarianism have gained
a high level of popularity in Mauritius. The symbolic status of
Ti-Creole leader achieved by Kaya on 26 February 1999
partially explains the sacralised status of seggae and the
continued impact of reggae on contemporary artists. Kaya’s
untimely death in a police cell sparked the most violent racial
uprising the country had experienced since its independence
in 1968. Race riots primarily pitting Hindus and Ti-Creoles on

opposite sides dramatically shed light on a deeply divided
society. While Kaya’s unnatural death initially incited fury at
the number of unexplained deaths of members of the Ti-Creole
community in police cells, anger was further expressed against
the ingrained institutional discrimination that the Ti-Creole
community is continuously subject to. Drawing from
pan-African movements and influential reggae artists, Kaya
and Ras Natty Baby helped develop a grounded movement
built upon Rastafarianism. Since then, artists hailing from
the Rastafarian community have constantly contributed to the
well-established visual presence of Rastafarianism and,
simultaneously, to that of the Ti-Creole community in
Mauritian society.
Seggae had an effective mobilising impact on the
Ti-Creole/Afro-Mauritian community. Kaya’s militant seggae
sound fundamentally changed the Mauritian musical scene
and Mauritian society as a whole. According to Stuart Hall,
reggae anchors the presence of Africa in the African diaspora,
since it provides the sonic means to construct an imaginary
link to the African homeland within the sacred discourse of
Rastafarianism (Hall 291). In a context of socio-economic and
cultural repression, the Ti-Creole community endowed Kaya
with symbolic leadership. Reggae rhythms and politically
conscious lyrics reached out to the Mauritian audience
irrespective of ethnic allegiance, but his lyrics
such as
‘Mo Pep so Rasin Pé Brilé’ [My people’s roots are burning] and
‘Ras Kuyon’ [Stupid Race]
had a dramatic influence on
upcoming rap artists and youths.1 Seggae effectively
channelled Ti-Creoles’ discontent and calls for social justice.
Kaya’s arresting rhythms, sacred rhetoric and political
message equally impacted on the production of rap, ragga and
dancehall music. Artists such as Bruno Raya, who had begun
their careers within the hip hop movement of the 1990s,
shifted to seggae, raggamuffin and dancehall to further build
upon the social awakening process seggae had engendered.
The impact of seggae has been so significant that it has
overshadowed rap’s presence. A privileged musical form
promoted by politically conscious established artists, seggae
has been successful to the detriment of rap music. For
instance, it has been prioritised through the annual
organisation of the Festival Reggae Donn Sa featuring
international reggae artists. Hip hop has gradually taken a
back seat, to the extent that one journalist even posits the
question: ‘Qui a flingué le rap?’ [What has blasted rap?]
(Antoine np). Rap artists are partially blamed for having
exhausted rap’s appeal in the island. Mplan from NAS Possi,
one of the old school rappers from the 1990s, claims that rap
artists were sending out confused messages to the audience.
The rhetoric of rap was lost within diverse influences. For
instance, the rap group Monaster engaged in musical fusions
of rap and coupé décalé, a music and dance form hailing from
Ivory Coast and reaching Mauritius via French audiovisual
diffusion. The polyrhythmic ‘tropical’ dance beats of
raggamuffin performed in Creole also underpinned a
movement from rap to popular dance forms that pertained to
mass entertainment. Mplan identified the commercial success
Rap Music in Mauritius 37
of raggamuffin as one of the primary factors that contributed to
rap’s decline in Mauritius.
One leading group’s success, Ottentik Street Brothers
(OSB), has placed more emphasis on raggamuffin as a
dominant musical trend in recent years. OSB’s astute
command of seggae, raggamuffin and dancehall has anchored
their leadership in the Mauritian musical landscape. Their
versatility in fact denotes a complex musical scene where
artists shift from one musical trend to another with ease. This
has been negatively remarked upon by Mplan, who deplores
the confusion of rap with other musical forms; so, for instance,
the gangsta rap record ‘La Drogue’, which is described as
pertaining to both rap and dancehall. Other critics of rap, such
as Hansley Antoine, blame gangsta rap’s association with
luxury, sexuality, violence and crime for reducing the appeal of
rap by erasing its political import (Antoine np). The fact that
few rap albums are created in Mauritius denotes how rap’s
popularity seems to be on the wane. Whilst hip hop as a form
has not completely faded
hip hop dance competitions are
organised on an institutional basis and hip hop wear is
regularly marketed
ironically, artistic production of rap
music itself seems less popular.
On one level it may be argued that the decline of rap and
the rise of dancehall and raggamuffin reveal a shift in the
audience’s desire for syncopated rhythms and dance music
characterising these forms. However, on another level,
raggamuffin, dancehall and seggae perpetuate Kaya’s legacy
of politically conscious lyrics which are nothing short of social
awakening calls. A brief analysis of a rap artist’s lyrics as well
as those of a seggae/raggamuffin band and a dancehall artist
reveals similar ongoing thematic concerns with Mauritian
identity and society. Rap artist Tikkenzo’s record ‘Kreol
assault’ calls for the recognition of a Creole identity based
on the fact of birth on an island: ‘Di moment ki to fine ne lor
ene l’ı̂le//To avan tou ene Kreol/Nimport ki to relizyon/To
avan tou ene Kreol’ [Once you have been born on an island/
You are above all a Creole/No matter your religion/You are
above all a Creole] (Tikkenzo, ‘Kreol Assault’ np).
Tikkenzo’s lyrics echo OSB Crew’s reggae record ‘Kréolité’
[Creoleness]:
Kifer zot pancore accepter sa/Kifer toultan zot pé
ignor sa/Pourtant, la kréolité li dans nou/Kifer sa
bizin déroul koumsa/Kifer toultan zot pé rézet sa/
Kifer zamais zot lé tann parl sa/Pourtant dan moris
nou tanne cose sa partou/La inn ler pou li gagne so
plas la
[Why have you not yet accepted this/Why do you
ignore this/After all Kréolité is within us/Why does it
have to happen like this/Why do you always reject
this/Why do you not wish to heed this/Yet everybody
speaks about it in Mauritius/It is time for it to be
recognised]. (OSB, ‘Kreolité Reggae Donn Sa 4’ np).
The insistence on a shared Creole identity is an attempt to
counter local tendencies to forge identities based on ethnicity.
It is a call to acknowledge the fact of shared ‘Creoleness’ of all
38 Rap Music in Mauritius
Mauritians and, thus, rejects the local tendency to associate
Creole identity with just the African phenotype, ie members of
the Ti-Creole community. Mauritian dancehall music equally
bears the political message of seggae and Mauritian rap. A
prime example of the local variation of dancehall performed by
leading artist Don Panik demonstrates socially conscious
music vindicating the need for equality and social justice. For
instance, the single ‘Pas facil’ deconstructs the image of the
island as a paradise: ‘esklavaz mental/Nu enkor pe soufer/
System Kominal/Pe créer la mizer’ [mental slavery/We are
still suffering/Communal system/Is creating poverty] (Don
Panik & Kool B, ‘Pa Facil’ np). The video of ‘Pa Facil’ featuring
Don Panik and Bruno Raya presents the artists as prisoners in
jail, drawing attention to ongoing prejudiced association of
Ti-Creoles with crime. The communal system accused of
causing mental slavery refers to the system of ethnic
segregation based on communities, ie ethnic groups, as they
are termed in Mauritius. Dancehall, seggae, ragga and rap,
therefore, share a common political agenda, denoting that
political consciousness underlies each variation of black
music in Mauritius.
Seggae, ragga and dancehall’s popularity in Mauritius may
be partially attributed to the commercialisation nexus
associated with rap. The rap industry with branded labels and
streetwear has strongly influenced the production and
marketing of seggae, ragga and dancehall. OSB’s success at
producing and marketing their own records and the control
they exercise over their labels demonstrates an astute
awareness of how rap, as Lusane notes, constitutes ‘the
packaging and marketing of social discontent by some of the
most skilled ad agencies and largest record producers in the
world’ (Lusane 41). However, in contrast to the global forces of
the rap industry, Bruno Raya’s entrepreneurial ventures
highlight the Mauritian artist’s agency. Although OSB’s venture
into foreign territory has been aided by a music distribution
company, OSB remains in firm control of their musical
production. The OSB Co Ltd, led by Paul and Koeny Raya,
exemplifies OSB’s upper hand over the commercialisation of
their music. Criticism levelled against rap in terms of the
commodification of youths’ angst is effectively countered with
a viable means of cultural production still faithful to the
essence of rap, that is, the denunciation of injustice. Bruno
Raya has also set up the OSB Live and Direct Entertainment,
which has altered the Mauritian cultural landscape by holding
concerts featuring international artists such as Alpha Blondy.
Furthermore, OSB has paved the way for emerging artists with
the provision of recording facilities and other forms of support.
It can thus be noted that, although rap seems to be on the
decline, it still informs the production of other musical forms,
namely seggae and dancehall. The attempt to draw
distinctions between rap and these more popular forms may
be flawed to some extent since, not only do these forms share
a common agenda of sustaining black consciousness in
Mauritius, but artists commonly engage in mixing musical
forms. Besides, it may be argued that African syncopated
polyrhythms already form the common core of rap,
raggamuffin and dancehall. The African polyrhythmic form
characterising each tradition explains their popularity in
Mauritius, where local sega music is itself a variation of
creolised African rhythms close to Cuban rumba. As noted by
Browning (39), rhythmic resonances across the African
diaspora in the Caribbean and the Indian Ocean predate the
global rise of rap. These variations build upon sonic affinities
between each form, and the fact that Mauritian artists bring
these various forms together unveils a conscious awareness of
the versatility of African polyrhythmic forms. The global
success of each form has been effectively re-localised in a
multiple creative interplay on rhythm. This is evidenced in
Monaster’s shift from rap to coupé-décalé and ragga within
one album. The attempt to identify each variation is doomed to
failure, given the subtle shifts within one record.
Rap in Mauritius, as a distinctive tradition adopted by
youths, has considerably contributed to the popularisation of
the other forms it is closely connected with. Rap, it must be
noted, was the originating platform for many contemporary
artists of reggae and raggamuffin to emerge from. In the 1990s
rap was the prime vehicle for youths from marginalised urban
areas of Mauritius, termed by artists as ‘ghettos’, to gather and
engage in music and dance activities. Bruno Raya, the leader
of OSB crew, relates how
Tou finn koumanse lor koltar avek plizir melar ki ti mari
kontan dans hip hop. Sete enn mari lepok kot nou
bann Ghetto Youth nou ti pe zouenn toulezour pouki
nou defoule ansam e aprann danse ziska dan tar.
[Everything started on the street with others who
greatly enjoyed hip hop. It was a formidable time when
all the Ghetto Youth were meeting daily to enjoy
themselves and learn dancing till late]. (Raya np)
Hip hop was the stepping stone for many current prominent
artists engaging in reggae, ragga and dancehall. Raya notes
that originally the OSB crew was involved in all features of hip
hop such as rap, toasting and dancing (ibid). Don Panik, who
has converted to dancehall, equally issued from what has
been described as the hip hop generation of the 1990s. Both
Don Panik and Blakkayo, another prominent reggae artist,
started their careers as hip hop dancers. Thus, as already
indicated, hip hop was the essential formative stage prior to
the embrace of raggamuffin, reggae and dancehall. Whilst
seggae, raggamuffin and dancehall, linked to the philosophy
of Rastafarianism, seem to have political and socio-cultural
legitimacy, hip hop provided the initial grounds for musical
engagement, communal gathering and entertainment for
young members of the Ti-Creole community.
As stated above, few groups engage exclusively in the
performance of rap music. NAS Possi led by Mplan and NSZ
are two groups which have resisted the attempt to follow the
popular success of raggamuffin. NSZ’s success in particular
deserves attention. An acronym for North Side Zoo, the group’s
name refers to the origins of the group in the north of
Mauritius. Murray Forman argues that hip hop engages in a

process of ‘going local’, where the local turf is space for
contestation and representation (Forman 73). NSZ defiantly
associates the north with the term ‘zoo’, strongly suggestive of
the imprisoned ‘ghetto’ constituency that NSZ addresses.
‘Zoo’ evokes hip hop’s visual culture in a self-deprecating and
self-reflexive manner. NSZ’s success may be attributed to
several factors, the most important of which is the significance
of their lyrics. ‘Mo fight Pu Mo Freedom’ [I fight for my
freedom], for instance, is a record echoing the roots of hip hop
as a site of contestation. This political engagement is
reinforced with NSZ’s visual projection of the Mauritian ghetto
in their videos. Dark streets, the small alleyways of the ‘cités’
[ghettos], places generally associated with crime and drugs, as
well as the restrained domestic space of the youths in their
ghetto homes, underline a grounded movement where the
local space is projected to a Mauritian audience. Whilst
other artists have lyrically alluded to the ghettoised condition
of many Ti-Creole youths, NSZ brings the viewer into the
home of these youths, into an intimate space we are
compelled to acknowledge. The Mauritian ghetto is projected
as the spatialised experience of marginality in the Mauritian
audio-visual space where it generally tends to be erased.
NSZ further demarcates itself from other rap groups with
the participation of a girl rapper in their performance.
Notorious Ivy, as her public persona is named, significantly
breaks the male tradition of rappers in Mauritius. She sings:
Mo rev pe realize/Mon rent dan grup Marseye/Mo
kumans santer/Mo fine abitye/Pa pe deman twa
naryen/Deranz twa mo santer//Laisse mo fer mo
simin/Laisse mo termine sa ki mon komanse/Mo
konne mo tou sel tifi dans NSZ ki rappe/Mo konne ki
ena ta ki pu guetter pu zize
[My dream has come true/I have joined a group from
Marseilles/I have started to sing/I am used to it/I am
not asking you for anything/My song flusters you//Let
me pave my way/Let me finish what I have started/I
know I am the only girl in NSZ to sing rap/know many
who look at me will judge me]. (NSZ, ‘Supaclique’ np)
Notorious Ivy is, indeed, the only young woman to perform rap
on the Mauritian music scene. Her inclusion in NSZ contributes
to the projection of a conscientious form of rap. Her presence
projects a non-sexist group promoting a progressive aspect of
rap music, effectively countering the misogynist as well as
sexual hedonistic trends in some form of contemporary rap
music. Notorious Ivy’s claim that she has achieved her dreams
to perform rap indicates how rap constitutes a viable as well
as desired form of expression for youths in Mauritius. NSZ’s
success demonstrates the regeneration of rap given its
ongoing significance for youths entrapped in Mauritian
ghettoes. Despite the dominating success of ragga and
dancehall, rap still constitutes a powerful tool of expression
and mode of vindication. Whilst established artists privilege
raggamuffin and reggae and seek to assert a black diasporic
circuit with artists and music from the African mainland and
Rap Music in Mauritius 39
Jamaica, Mauritian youths still identify with global rap
movements.
In the case of NSZ, the influence of global rap is clearly
spelled out in the lyrics of ‘Mo Fight Pu Mo Freedom’.
Notorious Ivy significantly raps about joining a group from
Marseilles, referring to the impact of French rap on Mauritian
youths. The participation of Akhénaton, from IAM, the
legendary French rap group based in Marseilles, in NSZ’s
musical project underpins an important circuit of networking
and francophone influence. Akhénaton’s presence in NSZ’s
videos of ‘Supaclique’ and ‘Mo Fight Pu Mo Freedom’ reveals
the participation and support of one of the emblematic leaders
of the French rap movement. This circuit may be discussed on
two levels with reference to, firstly, the global circulation of rap
that forges connective marginalities and, secondly, the
francophone connection sustained by francophone
organisation in the Indian Ocean. As noted earlier, Osumare
emphasises the notion of ‘connective marginalities’ between
youths across the globe that promotes the identification with
rap music’s political significance. In the Indian Ocean, these
occur between Mauritian artists engaging in hip hop and
French hip hop artists from the French area of Marseilles. The
francophone circuit deserves attention, for it determines
musical production in Mauritius in many ways. Although the
anglicised resonances of the names of rap artists and the
important ways in which rap has contributed to everyday
Mauritian Creole through terms such as ‘man’ highlight the
anglophone circuit that operates through the broadcasting and
marketing of American and British rap, French rap, it may
be argued, has considerably influenced NSZ’s performance of
hip hop.
Rap’s circulation across French media circuits has
significantly impacted on francophone spheres of music
production and consumption. Marie Nathalie Leblanc et al
have underlined rap’s impact on Quebec, stemming from the
confluence of both American and French rap, and draw
attention to the importance of the common French language as
a determining factor underlying the traffic of rap music
between the French metropole and Quebec (Leblanc et al 9).
This is echoed by Auzanneau in her study of rap in relation to
African identities in the Congo and Senegal (Auzanneau 719).
The dominating presence of the French language in the
Mascarenes in the south west Indian Ocean due to a history of
French colonialism and settlement, as well as ongoing
attempts to preserve French language and culture by the
Organisation Internationale de la Francophonie (OIF) suggests
a parallel context (Organisation Internationale de la
Francophonie website np).2 Although the official language of
Mauritius is English, French dominates the written and oral
media. Most importantly, French rap reaches Mauritius via the
hegemonic presence of French satellite channels in the Indian
Ocean, namely Canal satellite. Additionally, local radio
stations allocate wider air time to the diffusion of music from
Europe than local music, thus enhancing the impact of French
rap. Above all, the OIF has forged a substantial influential
40 Rap Music in Mauritius
space in the cultural domain by fronting the organisation of
local musical and regional events in the Indian Ocean.
The Organisation Internationale de la Francophonie’s
attempt to perpetuate France’s colonial ideology of ‘mission
civilisatrice’ [civilising mission] has been subject to
substantial critique (Aldridge and Connell 170). The
importance it attributes to cultural manifestations, including
music in the Indian Ocean, may be directly linked to this
ongoing imperial cultural domination. The fact that major
significant Indian Ocean regional music festivals take place on
French territory, such as the Festival Musiques Métisses
d’Angoulême, reflect France’s sizeable migrant community
from the Indian Ocean and underlines France’s role in the
promotion of Indian Ocean regional musical identity.
Francophonie’s spearheading role in officially staging and
promoting this identity is linked to the cultivation of French
identity in its Départements (DOM) and Térritoires D’Outre-Mer
(TOM) (overseas territories), namely Mayotte and La Réunion in
the Indian Ocean. Francophonie’s dominance on the cultural
scene is summed up by Ager in the acerbic observation that
‘Each of the DOM-TOM also acts as a cultural showpiece for
French civilisation’ (Ager 86). The impact of this dominance on
La Réunion is then transferred onto Mauritius, given the
latter’s reliance on French television and radio channels
diffused from the neighbouring island. Mauritian media is also
primarily francophone, with the bulk of television programmes
circulating via the French metropole.
On a cultural level, France’s significant investment in local
cultural manifestations reveals an attempt to impose a
neo-colonialist regime crafted under the guise of a benevolent
programme. Whilst Tavernier states that ‘Francophonie [. . .]
deserves to be promoted since it defends cultural diversity’
(184), it may be argued that the concepts of ‘Francopolyphony’
or ‘diversality’ have been coined in an attempt to suggest the
OIF’s disengagement from an imperialist programme. Milhaud,
however, notes that attempts to view the OIF’s discourse as
rising beyond neo-colonialism are difficult to sustain,
persuasively suggesting that cultural diversity as led by France
is but a devious way of promoting neo-colonial Francophonie
against increased dominance by Anglo-Saxon globalisation
(Milhaud np). Yet, the neo-colonialist regime of the OIF and
their supporters does not totally subsume the autonomy and
agency of local artists. The francophone circuit has been
instrumental for rap music to occupy shared audio-visual
space and signal affinities between the oppressed in
Marseilles and Mauritius. The ‘connective marginality’ lies in
the oppressed conditions of the youths in France’s banlieux
and Mauritian urban ghettoes. Laurent Béru writes that rap
fundamentally spells out the ‘postcolonial condition’ of
migrants in France, a group from which many rap artists hail.
Béru claims that French rap denounces racism and similar
profound injustices in the banlieux (Béru 61
69). Mauritian
youths hailing from the Ti-Creole community in urban
disaffected areas, denied a fair education system and subject
to socio-economic discrimination (Bunwaree np), establish a
connective marginality with French rap. The francophone
circuit, therefore, has proved not only influential but a means
to an end. As Leblanc et al note in Quebec, American and
French influences are strategically used by local rap artists for
their own agendas (Leblanc et al 10); thus NSZ’s success
underpins the Mauritian artist’s agency working within the
interstices of the francophone circuit.
Francophonie organisations further constitute almost the
only avenue for artists to reach out to an international scene;
OSB’s Reggae Donn Sa 5 festival, for instance, primarily relies
on the participation of artists encountered in the French
metropole such as Alpha Blondy. The participation at the
festival of Daddy Mory, a performer of ragga, reggae and hip
hop in France, demonstrates how the francophone circuit
becomes the ultimate space for artists hailing from Africa to
reach out to an audience in the Indian Ocean. OSB’s project is
deeply steeped in pan-African idealism of reggae and the
desire to promote a connection with Africa. Rap on the
francophone circuit articulates a similar concern with building
connective marginalities and affirming black consciousness.
French rap artist, Stomy Bugsy, spelled out a connection with
Africa on his visit to Mauritius. In a radio interview in
Mauritius, he stated that, ‘Je suis un Créole Africain’ [I am
African], which points to attempts to build identity
connections between French artists and Mauritian artists
based on shared notions of Creoleness and Africanness
(Quirin np). The francophone circuit, therefore, becomes a tool
for vindicating common identities that successfully subvert the
Francophonie agenda of promoting French culture. Rupa Huq
persuasively writes that the ‘theory and practice of rap as an
expressive participatory youth movement with culturally
diverse roots in many ways run counter to the modern French
nation state ideal of ‘‘integration’’’ (Huq 42). NSZ’s
collaboration with Akhénaton epitomises this connective and
subversive marginality between Mauritian and French rap
movements.
To conclude, hip hop in Mauritius remains a privileged
form of vindication for youths still subject to ongoing
practices of ethnic categorisation and discrimination. Rap is
an integral part of the circulation and appropriation of black
music traditions in Mauritius. Its recent regeneration denotes
multiple ways in which its appeal to young Mauritian artists
contributes to its continued production and performance. The
circuits through which artists draw their inspiration and forge
collaborations indicate that artistic agency still prevails over
the wider global industry that governs rap. Alliances are built
and common identities asserted in attempts to create
resistance. The fact that many of these collaborations occur
beyond the control of major music labels and companies
underlines how sonic affinities and connective marginalities
establish the foundation of resistance across the francophone
circuit. NSZ’s venture, for instance, though supported by
Akhénaton, was not released on the French market. It was a
localised production targeted at a local audience. This
ultimately highlights how rap can unite artists engaged in
common struggles through a subversive appropriation of an
existing circuit in a manner that benefits the local space.

Notes
1 All translations from the Creole have been done by the
author.
2 The Organisation Internationale de la Francophonie
describes itself as follows: ‘The International Organisation
of La Francophonie represents one of the biggest linguistic
zones in the world. Its members share more than just a
common language. They also share the humanist values
promoted by the French language. The French language and
its humanist values represent the two cornerstones on
which the International Organisation of La Francophonie is
based’ (see website).
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