While in Manila last March 24 for the annual Bob Day, I was able to catch a TV interview of Ziggy-him you might want to call a chip of the old block-calling unity in the "one love for one religion, that which is love itself". And that unifying devotion to love that could be taught lovingly, too, in churches, mosques and synagogues as a way to achieve inner peace, and overcome stereotypes and superstitions. Also he injected: Live the good life. No smoke. No alcohol.
I've never been a big fan of his father, Bob Marley, so that even though I had promoted events for the past Bobfests staged here, I never experienced that so-called irresistible pull of the local "Yahman's magnet" to be there in a crowd of guzzling dreadies who are no different from coal chimney stocks up for condemnation.
Gravitating towards reggae started with the desire to also start an advocacy that reggae is not confined at all to the Rastafarians. Or that dreadies are not after all only about Rastafarianism. Most of all, reggae music is meant to be shared even by those like me who hoist big red flags over prohibited substances. The desire is fueled by a thought-provoking email that challenged me to study the psychology of reggae and its appeal to mountaineers. The letter dated a week after the 15th annual trek to Mt. Manunggal last March 17 read: "pinay_mangatkatay, why do you think most climbers associate themselves with reggae music and not the indigenous Pinoy thing, and why do some are so connected with the weed when climbers should have been promoters of legal dealings and preservers of the environment? Just asking, cyrus_d_virus." An attempt at understanding the psychological effects reggae has on "free people" is what the note was driving at. It has also been a puzzle to me why most of the men and women I have come to share with this passion for climbing associate themselves with grass, offering their hallelujahs for the music of Marcus Mosiah Garvey and Robert Nesta Marley to God, but who live "questionable lifestyles and indulgences".
A certain Ijah who is one big fan of reggae said, "Reggae music provided the missing link regarding my roots with its Afrocentric interpretation of the Bible. Those positive vibrations are the power of the music and the movement. It's being a part of the overall solution of the world and not contributing to the problems of the world."
That is what I like about Ziggy. He is one with Bob, but has taken a better and more mature musical path. Understanding that to be a trailblazer against the wind is difficult. But to be speaking and singing and living what is right is the real music of the Jah. No smoke, Jah would surely be delighted with that. And no alcohol. Because Jah is a jealous God and he doesn't want people bamboozled into believing that it is alright for them to indulge in smoke and kegs of spirits and cordials, or use such as a pass for worldly indulgences to be treated divinely or spiritual (pun intended!).
Meanwhile, another reggae enthusiast named Eeyo said that reggae music talks about God, about positive vibrations. "You know. Positive vibrations are Jah. It's all intertwined."
Reggaenista Kelvin, who does deejaying, said, "In the early days during the era of apartheid, a lot of our shows were trying to promote the consciousness of apartheid and hoping to bring about some sense of peace and equality. Today, I continue to promote those positive vibrations on any level. My main objective when I do the show is to uplift people. To uplift their consciousness, to bring some joy into their life through music for those three hours that I'm on the air. Promote an attitude that's neither powered by drugs nor alcohol."
Reggae has so much appeal. There's the attraction to push a movement, an inclination towards what should be right. Ijah said he loves reggae so much it is already his way of life. "I started listening to reggae music in the mid 70's and one day I realized that I had reggaemylitis! It was a natural progression in my college studies of religion/psychology/music and African American history. For me, it was the first music other than gospel and some R&B that had conscious lyrics. It is Black liberation theology in song. Reggae liberates us from mental slavery.
"The heavy emphasis on drum and bass and the accent on the upbeat-the skank-make for a hypnotic and meditative sound where all can participate. I salute the Jamaican musicians who created reggae-a music that helps to unify people worldwide in justice and spirituality. Praise Jah for reggae music. Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights."
Meanwhile, Sachiko, a Japanese who has embraced reggae music, shared "reggae is truly deserving of its recognition. Uplifting, conscientious, it spreads a musical message of love and so much more!" And then there's the impressive message and ministry of Pastor Mark "Tansoback" Mohr that convinced me to embrace reggaenism. Previously tagged "cultural bandits" for spreading gospel in reggae music format, Mohr and his group Christafari addressed the topic of Haile Selassie and reincarnation. Their track "Why You A Go Look" (for the living amongst the dead?) in the WordSoundPower album includes an interview with the man himself in which he denounces the fact that he is God. And therefore, should not be worshipped.
I have come to love them not because they are Rastas, but because they are musicians who use their gifts for the love of God and the music. The message of universal love traces its roots from the plain truth that "Haile Selassie I was one of the few blacks who introduced Christianity to Ethiopia, and was against people thinking of him as a reincarnated being."
Back to the question. The problem lies not in the practice, that's what! If some do the weed and they enjoy it and they do no harm to others, let 'em be true to their stuff. Who are we to judge the life they live? We aren't perfect and we must not pretend to be. So that before we start pointing fingers at them, we make sure our hands are clean. That's no cliché, I suppose. Just the typical Bob Marley line.
The big question here is if I am a dreadzy, would that make me bad? Just because I'm a dreadie, does that mean I'm Rasta and that I don't take a bath regularly or that I am nurturing 65 species of lice nesting in my locks?
There is so much more to reggae than Rasta, and so much broader than the Marleys. There is this call to live a purpose-driven life. To free one not only of mental slavery, but also from the shackles of alcoholism and narcotics. The real "free man" is one who doesn't a bit attempt, even in his mind, to destroy the temple of Jah-his body-that encases his soul.
This is no issue on who plays righteous. This is picking on what has always been right. And as for those who profess to have big love for the one Jah, there is no compromise to time-tested values. Or you wouldn't cherish spirituality a virtue!