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Inspirational Female Sponsors

Leading ladies

Senegalese women made up around three quarters of Youssou’s early audiences. Following a tradition of patronage that had been established at the outset of the colonial era when rich, mixed-race businesswomen called signares distributed their largesse during festive occasions and set fashion trends, modern ladies of means supported Youssou with gifts of money, fine cloth and musical equipment. In return he sang their praises.

Among those who played an important role as both muse and patron was Marième Dieng Salla. Born on the banks of the Senegal River at Dagana on 23 July 1953 to a Mauritanian father and a Senegalese mother, Marième was a woman of rare beauty and charm who became the talk of Dakar. She was the guest of honour at many of Youssou and the Super Étoile’s most memorable concerts, especially those which took place in her home town of Dagana, where the setting was the gardens of the former residence of Léon César Faidherbe, governor of Senegal from 1854 to 1865. On those gala evenings, held in the open air under a starlit sky, there was always an interval during which a famous griot or female griotte – such as the grand diva Adja Mbana Diop, whose ancestors had sung for the Walo kings – sang the praises of certain families who were present. From the VIP gallery, some of Marième Dieng Salla’s guests would make their way to the stage to spray or dash Youssou with money, placing notes on his forehead.

Marième became the fourth wife of El Hadj ‘Ndiouga’ Babacar Kébé, son of a marabout from Kaolack and one of the richest men in Senegal. In 1956, Kébé began trading in diamonds which he purchased in the Congo and other African countries, and by 1973 he had established a huge import-export business in Senegal. He owned a palace in Touba, properties in the regional town of Kaolack and an apartment in the Rue de Prony in the 17th arrondissement in Paris. In Dakar he constructed the city’s tallest building, the Immeuble Kébé (which is still one of the most imposing high-rise structures in central Dakar), built the Sahm shopping centre, the first of its kind, and in 1974 opened the Sahel nightclub, with its own resident band, Le Sahel. Kébé fathered twenty-two children and housed each of his wives in a separate villa in the area known as Fann-Résidence; Marième lived at Villa Kébé 7 in the Rue des Ambassades. The Senegalese people in the street watched in wonder as she drove by in the latest top-of-the-range Jaguar, a golden Mercedes 500 or a gleaming BMW.

When I arrived in Dakar in October 1984, people were gossiping that Youssou and Marième were romantically involved and that Ndiouga Kébé – who had died in a mysterious road accident on 13 March, his seventieth birthday – had been murdered by Youssou’s marabouts. Then a report that Youssou had been killed in revenge by Kébé’s marabouts became so pervasive that Youssou was obliged to appear on state television to prove he was still alive. Youssou, for his part, has always insisted that his relationships with Marième and all the women whom he has praised in song were based on true friendship and the highest respect.

A friend and patron of many musicians, Marième contributed financially when the Jackson Five visited Dakar in 1972 and met with James Brown and the singer Dalida when they performed at the Daniel Sorano National Theatre. She opened her home to artists, especially the musicians she admired, notably Ndiouga Dieng, Ismaël Lô, the brothers Touré Kunda – and, of course, Youssou, for whom she had special admiration and to whom she offered instruments and sound equipment.

Following her husband’s death, Marième remarried but sadly died in childbirth in January 1987, aged just thirty-four. President Mobutu of Zaire and President Abdou Diouf, who were admirers, attended her funeral in Dakar and many Senegalese still describe her as ‘immortal’. In May 2006, almost twenty years after her death, several society magazines compared her to Princess Diana or Marilyn Monroe. Icône, the jet set’s glamour magazine, reproduced photographs of Marième and described her as

part angel with a spark of genius, a person who was more than a myth and was certainly legendary … she left behind her as many good deeds as could be counted on a string of prayer beads … she was rich in her breeding, rich in beauty, rich because of her husband’s wealth but also and especially rich because of her kindness to those less well off than herself and for the quality of her human relationships which she maintained discreetly and with tolerance.1

I met Alassane Mbodj, Marième Dieng’s brother, at her former home in the Avenue des Ambassades. We walked the length of the avenue towards the sea, passing by the lavish, walled villas: Kébé 1, the home of Ndiouga Kébé’s first wife; the home of the director general of telecoms provider Sonatel; the Dutch ambassador’s residence. We talked of those earlier days when life was easy, money no object and Marième was generous to a fault. The night she died, it was Alassane who had driven Marième to the Clinique Hubert. Clearly the shock of her death had left a deep wound in his heart.

A few streets away is the home of Ndella Wade, another of Youssou’s benefactors, to whom he dedicated his song ‘Bes’. For him she is the incarnation of beauty, generosity, simplicity and self-effacement and retains a kind of mystery that he admires. In the traditional manner Youssou sings her genealogy:

Samba Woury, Aye Dièye, Papa Cissé, Mariama Diagne, Ndella Wade. Whoever sang it will sing it again: Birahima Jaabi, Samba Woury, Maye Dièye, Papa Cissé, Mariama Ndiaye. I hold you in the highest esteem, for no one can be kinder than you.

When Ndella Wade or Marième Dieng Salla came to Youssou’s concerts at the Sorano Theatre they became his muses, inspiring him by their presence and contributing in their own way to the creative process. Senegalese journalist Massamba Mbaye told me in August 2006 how, in a spirit of gratitude and friendship, Youssou N’Dour had immortalised cherished figures from Marième Dieng Salla to Ndella Wade; people who became part of his voice down the years and who acquired their place in his repertoire through the mysterious connections we all make with each other.

By their celebrity these well-known females influenced other women who, in turn, promoted Youssou’s music, helping to unite fans from populous suburbs like Pikine and those from the wealthier areas of Dakar such as Fann-Résidence.

Another well-connected lady for whom Youssou wrote a praise song was Nanette Ada, a niece of President Léopold Sédar Senghor, who was married to Ablaye Ndiack, Senghor’s Minister of Information. Their daughter Colette would bring flowers to Youssou on his birthday and when he finally met Nanette, he dedicated the very next song he composed to her. It announces its subject with a boldly ascending brass fanfare followed by tripping tama and staccato sabar phrases topped by Youssou’s wailing vocals and washed over by Adama Faye’s rippling keyboards. ‘Nanette Ada’ takes pride of place on Youssou’s magnificent cassette Africa Deebub.

One of Youssou’s earliest patrons, Absa Gueye Yaye Dior, was the subject of the song ‘Absa Gueye’, which he composed with the Étoile de Dakar in 1979. A well-known beauty who was always dressed to the nines, she would arrive at his shows with a huge star denoting her support for the band emblazoned on her boubou dress, turning every head in the hall. She helped Youssou purchase instruments and introduced him and his music to an affluent new audience from the central Plateau area, where she lived on the Rue Carnot.

Absa Gueye was the daughter of Ibrahima Gueye Kato Diagne, a wealthy businessman who made furniture for the marabouts of the Sy family at Tivaouane and owned a fleet of cars, limousines and convertibles which he rented out to French governors and colons in the years before independence. An elegant dandy who wore three watches, one on each wrist and one around his neck, Ibrahima had four beautiful wives – including Aminata Niang, the mother of Absa Gueye – each of whom played a traditional instrument in the family orchestra. Absa Gueye inherited her father’s business acumen, travelling all over West Africa to buy textiles, mainly in the Ivory Coast, Togo, Mali and Ghana. When I met her at home in the Mermoz district of Dakar, she told me, ‘Youssou is very wise and well-behaved, and his success is due to the fact that he loves and respects his mother.’

29. Absa Gueye.

Youssou’s mother, Ndèye Sokhna Mboup, believed in him and always supported him, especially in the early years of his career and despite his father’s objections to his becoming an artist. Ever mindful of this, Youssou wrote ‘Jimaamu’ especially for his mother. Jimaamu means modesty, one of the cardinal rules in the Wolof code of honour.

It was Youssou’s maternal grandmother, Marie Sène, however, who was his primary musical inspiration. For her he composed ‘Yaakar’ (‘Hope’), a melodious tribute which features the asiko percussion of the late Ismael Thiam, otherwise known as Billy Kongoma, founder of the Ballet D’Afrique Noir in the 1950s. Journalist Massamba Mbaye eloquently summed up the significance of Youssou’s maternal lineage and griot heritage when he told me:

The legacy of his mother in the wake of his grandmother is more than simple syntax; it traces a direct link and a bridge to an antique Africa of grand deeds; a world where there were no satellite dishes but caravans and caravels.

Awa Gueye, another of Youssou’s supporters, told me with pride that the first time she heard the song that bears her name was during a gala performance by Youssou and his band at the Sorano Theatre. On that occasion she had felt quite overcome with emotion. A joyously limpid, bluesy, blowsy shuffle, the song grooves with a slow rock ’n’ roll rhythm and is eminently danceable by Senegalese and non-Senegalese alike. Awa Gueye’s mother, Aissatou Sow, a Toucouleur lady from the Fouta area around Saint-Louis, was the first Senegalese woman to buy embroidered cotton from Europe and Awa followed her example, travelling to Paris, Italy and Switzerland to buy textiles for sale in her shop in the HLM5 district and her stall in the Castor market. Knowing that Youssou liked to be stylish onstage, she offered him literally kilometres of magnificent cloth for costumes. She passed away in 2011, but her song illuminated its time and is one of my own favourite pieces.

Such discerning female trendsetters were the forerunners of Senegal’s modern fashion designers like Linn Senghor, Collé Ardo Sow, Dasha Nicoué or Claire Kane, whose subtle yet distinctive creations in pagne tissée (traditional woven cloth) have been worn onstage by Youssou.

One designer who regularly works with Youssou is Diouma Dieng Diakhaté, who gave up her secretarial job at air traffic control company ASECNA to pursue her passion for making clothes, initially setting up shop in her garage with just one sewing machine. Today, Shalimar Couture, the company she founded, is one of the most successful in Senegal. Diakhaté, herself a model of poise, charm and beauty, has dressed African heads of state and their wives and designed outfits for Barbara Bush, Hillary Clinton and Oracene Price, mother of tennis stars Venus and Serena Williams. I first met her when Youssou and I visited her workshop to select stage costumes, and when I later asked Madame Diakhaté to give me her impressions of Youssou’s career, she received me in her office in the Boulevard de la République. She invited me to sit on one side of her desk while on the other side she drew up her usual chair, a Swiss ball. As she sat down, she pointed to her flat stomach, exclaiming, ‘How else do you think I keep this trim?’ At her fashion shows, whether in Abidjan, Paris or Tokyo, Madame Diakhaté – who is patron of L’Observateur, the newspaper run by Youssou’s company Futurs Médias – used Youssou’s songs for her soundtrack. A recipient of Senegalese TV station RTS’s Woman of the Year award, she has invested money in social initiatives, including maternity hospitals and a morgue. When she announced her divorce from her long-time Senegalese husband, the gossip columns linked her romantically with the Congolese singer, Kofi Olomide, who had dedicated a song to her. She was a candidate in the 2012 presidential elections (an ill-advised move, perhaps, since she lost her deposit after gaining just 0.12 per cent of the total vote). A consolation was her appointment the same year as roving ambassador for Senegal by the newly elected president, Macky Sall.

The women whom Youssou describes in ‘Jigééni Rééw Mi’ (‘Women of my Country’) are well aware that they are no less worthy than their menfolk. Some serve as government ministers, some work in the fields, some in the marketplace, some stand over the cooking pot, some pound grain and some are in the sea at Bargny, pulling nets alongside their men. Certainly many Senegalese women are beautiful, but other qualities, including serenity, sensitivity and inner strength, also make them attractive. ‘Women are the salt of the earth, the backbone of the nation,’ sings Youssou. As architect and film-maker Nicholas Cissé told me in June 2006, a Senegalese woman learns how to keep a secret in her heart. She can find something very displeasing about her husband, yet keep it to herself forever.

Signare courtesans

Strong independent women have long been a force to be reckoned with in Senegalese society. Since colonial life was solitary for early European traders and administrators who travelled to Africa, they entered into arrangements with local chiefs and elders to marry African women for the duration of their service in Senegal. Those wives, who were chosen for their beauty and poise, lived with their husbands in Saint-Louis, the former capital of Senegal, or on Gorée Island, where they became wealthy courtesans and enjoyed the benefits of a luxurious lifestyle. The children of such intermarriages produced successive generations of increasingly more beautiful and charming signares, a name once given to noble ladies of the Portuguese court of Joseph the First. As befitted their station, the signares lived in large colonial houses and defined good manners and high fashion. Adorned with elegant headdresses and elaborate jewellery and wearing their most alluring costumes, fashioned from the finest silks and cashmere, they could be seen promenading along the bank of the Senegal River at five o’clock for their afternoon takussanu. Many of them expressed their independence and emancipation by smoking a pipe. One of them boasted that she had had as many lovers as the pearls on the beads which covered her hips. She even doubted whether she had enough sets of beads to count them all.

Looking beyond the stock images of signares as graceful and beautiful concubines, historian Jean-Luc Angrand has presented a revisionist view of their lives. Highlighting their business acumen, he describes these women as the Mama Benz of their day. They were highly organised traders in gum arabic, gold and indigo. Some of them owned their own boats, and at the end of the seventeenth century they exported up to 150,000 hides a year to Holland. They rented out workshops to craftsmen whose woven products were transported in signare ships to ports on the African coast. Thus the signares were rich, often more so than their European husbands.2

At traditional Christmas and New Year’s Eve parades called Fanals, the signares presided from their balconies while specially constructed floats, decorated wooden models of landmark buildings lit up by lanterns, filed past below. Griots and asiko percussionists animated the parade, singing praise songs to their signare patrons in the hope and expectation that they would be showered with gifts of money.

Although the practice of Fanal parades finally lapsed, Marie Madeleine Diallo, one of the most famous actresses in Senegal, who appeared in Dékal Ndar, Senegal’s most popular television soap opera, was instrumental in reviving the Fanal parade as part of the millennium celebrations in her native city. Youssou dedicated his song ‘Marie Madeleine’ to the actress.

Signare culture also inspired Fabienne Diouf, the daughter of Senegal’s former president Abdou Diouf, a friend and early supporter of Youssou who introduced him to Stevie Wonder and other well-known musicians when they came to Senegal. Fabienne is an astute businesswoman of exceptional energy and drive. She renovated a typical Saint-Louis signare town house to create La Maison Rose, a luxury hotel. With considerable flair and exquisite taste, she developed a line of high-quality modern tableware, shawls and jewellery inspired by traditional Senegalese designs and made by craftspeople in Saint-Louis, where her company – aptly named Signare – was based.

30. Marie Madeleine Diallo.

Heroines in history

The heroines of yesteryear have gained renewed relevance through Youssou’s songs. ‘Miss^’, for example, co-written with Pape Dieng, is a piece that conveys the pathos of Greek tragedy in both its lyrics and the manner in which Youssou sings it. It tells the story of two remarkable and legendary women, the first of whom resisted the French colonisation of Senegal.

Aline Sitoe Diatta was born a Diola princess in 1920 in the Kabrousse area of Mosor in the province of Casamance. She led a fierce resistance movement against Portuguese colonial domination, later protesting against the French colonisers who were demanding that Senegalese farmers produce large quantities of rice and meat for the World War II effort in Europe. Carrying an emblematic baton, she moved from village to village opposing the payment of taxes and boycotting the planting of peanut crops. She opposed the drafting of Senegalese foot soldiers (known as Tirailleurs Sénégalais), 93,000 of whom served in Europe during both world wars. Aline Sitoe Diatta was arrested by the French and deported to a prison in Timbuktu, Mali. She died in captivity in May 1944 but remains a symbol of resistance, especially for the people of Casamance in Senegal’s southern province. Even after her death, she represented the spirit of revolution for communists who formed the political party Ande Dieuf, which was popular with Senegalese students in the 1980s. The main female campus at Cheikh Anta Diop University in Dakar is named after her, and the stadium in Ziguinchor also bears her name.

The second subject of ‘Miss’ is Yacine Boubou, the queen who sacrificed herself so that her son might inherit the throne and become damel (king). She was the consort of King Madior, who had several wives, all young and beautiful. When the king dreamt that one of them must be sacrificed in order to perpetuate his reign, the first, second and third wives all refused, but Yacine Boubou did not hesitate to pay the ultimate price, giving up her own life so that her son might succeed his father.

Another example of Youssou giving prominence to heroines of the past is in his song ‘Nelson Mandela’, where he compares the plight of apartheid victims in South Africa to a group of brave Senegalese women from Walo who, upon receiving news that their husbands had been captured by an invading Trarza king, gathered in a hut and set fire to it rather than be raped and taken hostage. It is said that not one of these women screamed or uttered a word while suffering immense pain.