“I entered a new world. It’s different from when you’re in a normal state; you’re not the same person you know. You don’t feel anything anymore, whether it’s fire, water or if you are beaten. I was sent to the village of Hombori to be cured and l stayed there for a year. When l felt better, I returned home to my family. There l began playing again and l was very well received by the spirits. I have all the spirits. I possess all the spirits and l work with them. I was born among them and grew up among them.”
The Niger is the greatest river that flows through the desert of Mali; a shimmering piece of silver where life seems to go on unchanged, as it has done for centuries. When you travel by boat to Niafunke (Ali’s home town in the North West of the country), there’s a sense of timelessness. Long narrow pirogues sail low on the water, heavy with fishing nets, trading goods and passengers, the boatmen forcing their way in the shallows between islands of low bush and yellow grasses. On either side, on an endless scorched horizon of sand, rock, steppe and scrubland, extends out the Sahel; Hazy blue skies, yellow and red earth, grey mud-brick villages, black rocks dotted with patches of brilliant green fields painstakingly irrigated by local farmers. Ali is one of these farmers and this is what constitutes the colour of his music.
The Niger has its own life. At the height of the dry season it shrinks down to a snake-like curl between wide sandy banks that measure up to half a mile-or more. During the rainy season the placid waters flood the plains, forming lakes that can rage like the ocean. The once silent river suddenly comes alive with howling winds and torrential storms, bringing the much needed-rain like a vengeance, covering the banks with a temporary coat of emerald grass.
To get to Niafunke, where Ali lives with his family on his farmlands in the north of Mali, you can either travel by car in the dry season or for short periods of the year by steamer from Koulikoro (east of Bamako). During the slow and arduous drive in the sweltering dry heat the scrubland landscape is intermittently interrupted by the hazy sight of a tiny village or, on the horizon, a huge herd of cattle. After the rains the steamer stops at the beautiful river towns of Djenne and Mopti, chugging along the majestic mud-brick mosques with their wedding-cake like turrets and creamy surfaces,the flotilla of pirogues painted with red, white, blue and green abstract designs, the young girls washing clothes on the banks., the women selling pottery, fruit and vegetables and the fishermen casting nets… The muezzin’s call to prayer drifts downstream. It’s an unhurried journey, time to reflect on the strength, diversity, and natural rhythm of local culture, in which Ali’s music is so firmly rooted.
Ali was born in 1939 in the village of Kanau near Gourma Rahous on the banks of the River Niger in the north west of Mali. He was the tenth son of his mother but the only one to survive to infancy. “I lost nine brothers of the same mother and father. The name I was given was Ali Ibrahim, but it’s a custom in Africa to give a child a strange nickname if you have lost the other children.” The nickname they chose for Ali was ‘Farka’ meaning donkey, an animal admired for its strength and tenacity. “But let me make one thing clear” he says, “I’m the donkey that nobody climbs on!”
When Ali was still a child his father died while serving in the French army, then the family moved south along the river to their present home Niafunke. With a population of over twenty thousand people, Niafunke is one of the larger villages scattered on this sparse, arid semi-desertic region. The lack of electricity and telephone lines contributes to the tranquil atmosphere and there is always the cooling breeze from the river. People make their living by farming, cattle herding and fishing and a great deal of work is spent irrigating the land. Touré enjoys life there where he lives a peaceful existence with his wife and eleven children.
Niafunke evolves around the trade generated by the quay, which wakes up from its usual sleepiness whenever the steamer pulls in, spri
