Cycle of life and death, as Rasna Warah and Teddy Osei, founder of 'Osibisa' die

Two great individuals passed on this week. One, my writer friend Rasna Warah and two, Teddy Osei, the founder of the afro-rock band, Osibisa. Long before academics invented the idea of global blackness, Osei and his buddies from Nigeria and the Caribbean were already living it by fusing Ghanaian traditional repertoire with modern instrumentalisation. They created a genre that sounded like nothing that had been heard before, and none ever since.

The band’s evergreen Sunshine Day, which even the youngest man in our house croons to, was released in 1975. If Gen-Zs ever needed an anthem for their protests, if and when they return to the streets, the hypnotic Why should do the trick. Osibisa’s genre-bending music will no doubt enjoy a new lease of life as it’s re-introduced to younger generation, so Osei will live on. I received the news of Rasna’s departure from our midst as I had a small, quiet lunch to mark my birthday. Yes, I still do those things, even though some cheeky fellows chide that I have reached an age when I shouldn’t receive gifts; it’s my turn to “give back to society.” Society is described as those within my connections and have a penchant for tamu tamu.

Rasna was among those within my connections; she wrote a penetrating story for the ‘Nairobi Noir’ anthology that I edited and made pilau for me when I visited Malindi, where she made a home with my friend, the renowned journalist Gray Phombeah.

Rasna was a consummate artist who was committed to the end. I’ll miss her fierce intellect, her warmth and her loud, sceptical laughter that lingered on long after she was gone. Rest in power, dada Rasna.