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Daara J : le retour!

Daara J : le retour!

Pionniers du hip hop au Sénégal, Daara J est le groupe de référence “made in 221”. L’un des membres, Faada Freddy a électrisé les ondes françaises en 2015 avec son premier album solo Gospel Journey. L’heure est donc aux retrouvailles avec ses publics aux quater coins du monde. Rencontre.

  Daara J Family © Siaka S. Traoré

Daara Jc’est avant tout une énergie hors paire sur scène, des textes qui…

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@daarajfamily / Daara J Family on FB Daara J Family - Unité 75 (Senegal) Daara J Family began life as a trio, making a name overseas with their last album ‘Boomerang’ (2003) and becoming one of Senegal’s best loved groups, looked up to by the youth for their outspoken lyrics and revered for being one of the few Senegalese hip-hop acts to have gained international recognition. After a split with their third member, Alaji Man, they reformed in 2009 with a whole new set-up, Ndongo D’s rapid-fire Wolof rap lyrics, Faada Freddy’s souly voice and a live band. Daara J Family ‘made it’ overseas but life in Europe’s been far from easy for them, they say. In this song, exclusively recorded for this compilation, they say that when they send money through Western Union, it’s money they fought hard to get, money they didn’t spend on food in order to help pay school fees and build houses in Senegal. But people at home always want more. The song's name, ‘Unite 75’, refers to the international telephone booths in Senegal where they sell phone-time by the unit: 1 Unit costs 75 west African francs (CFA). Their ‘success’ comes at the price of supporting a huge network at home. This track is about life on the other side. “Sometimes,” says Freddy, “when we send money to Senegal from abroad, we don’t eat for a day. If we can’t send money, it doesn’t mean that we’ve changed, become colonialists or don’t care about the family. Migrants know that things are hard in Senegal and so they sacrifice themselves for the others. They don’t want to loose the esteem people have for them.” Usually public figures do not speak openly about how hard life in Europe is. Most people prefer to keep up the perception that Europe is Paradise, because for their friends and relatives at home not making it means failing. Daara J Family are one of the first to tell people what the situation is really like.

intro: Saneex (Saneex (pronounced ‘Sa- nekh’) is a famous television comedian who here sneaks into his friend’s house so he can use his telephone to ring his friend in Europe) chorus: I come from Senegal, paddling on a pirogue. I arrived, and now every month I have to send something home to the family. They don’t know how I got it, and they’re having fun with it. Here I am, hiding from the police, sweating blood. We didn’t come to Europe to play around. Everything we manage to make, we turn into cfa (west African francs) and send it to the family. In the ‘Place del Sol’ (Place del Sol is a square in Madrid, Spain, where Senegalese gather to sell their wares- usually rip-off watches and handbags) they run from the police. In the evening, around the Trocadero, the police check our papers like in a movie. The modou-modou (the name given to Senegalese who travel overseas for work, often selling fake goods in tourist areas in major cities) trying to get ahead. I wait for my chance, God will give it to me, I’m a country boy from the village. I don’t have a girlfriend, I don’t go dancing, I stay inside, I don’t wear nice clothes. Nothing’s sorted out yet, my only concern is to send money home, but I don’t have it yet. Where he comes, where he’s going, nothing matters, whatever happens I have to be brave and face up to things. Even buying expensive false immigration papers. Phone cards, give them the Western Union code, the road to the post office, get a pen, write the code down, the password and write these words. Don’t forget to send my little boy to school, the money saves you from shame, don’t forget to keep building the house. Nobody knows, nobody’s aware of what I’m striving for in Babylon. Don’t think that I just walk around finding money on street corners. They ask for papers you don’t have, you get frisked by police officers and they want to arrest you but you run away, leaving your wallet behind. It’s easy to feel helpless, you’re always running around until you can’t breath, looking for that little bit to send the family. That’s why I’m hustling night and day, I sell watches, I sell pirate CDs. My family didn’t know any of this, I’ll talk to the point of choking but what amazes me, when I miss Senegal and I call them, whoever I speak to doesn’t ask me if I’m well. One is saying this, one is saying send me that, one says send me an iPod, one says send me money, as if I won the lottery. Don’t mess up the deal, I’ve just arrived, I have to work hard. I wouldn’t say no to washing dishes or sweeping the streets in the cold. I don’t complain, I don’t eat enough, I just want to reach my goal. I have to work hard to achieve my goals, this is your chance, don’t mess it up. Quickly marry a brunette, red-head or blonde bomb, or an old white woman would do. Then the papers would be easier to get. We are broke, send it by Western Union.