Makore’s sonic rebellion

PATIENCE MUSA

In the heart of Harare, where dust rises with dance and song, a lion roars—not in the wild, but from the womb of heritage.

His name is music. His rhythm is resistance. And his voice – a cry and a call. Kurai ‘Mukanya’ Makore is not just a Chimurenga artist; he is a time-traveller with a guitar slung across his shoulder and a mbira tucked in his soul.

Now on the brink of his third offering, Dzimwe Nguva, Kurai stands tall—not in the shadow of his legendary uncle, Dr Thomas Tafirenyika Mapfumo, but beside it, torch in hand, carving new paths through the forests of sound.

With his band, The Black Lions, he has built a beat that is both bone and blood—stirring, thumping, breathing with the same ancestral pulse that gave Chimurenga its name: a struggle, a movement, a music that refuses to die.

From the hypnotic chimes of the mbira to the rattling urgency of the hosho, from the grounded thunder of ngoma to the electrified voice of modern instruments, Kurai’s sound is not merely a fusion—it is a conversation across time. It is the past reminding the future where it comes from.

Since 2018, Makore has been whispering and wailing into our ears, telling stories in six-string syllables. His debut Gara Unzwe urged us to sit and listen. Ngoma Kurira reminded us that the drums still speak. And in between, singles like Pasi, Tombie Hondo, and Zvinonetsa became quiet revolutions, sung not with slogans but with soul.

There is a fire in Kurai’s music—slow-burning, yet sure. A fire that asks hard questions through harmony. What does it mean to be young and traditional? To straddle heritage and innovation? To sing old wisdom in a new tongue?

And now, with Dzimwe Nguva, he turns the page again. What echoes will we hear this time? What truths will dance beneath the surface? Is Chimurenga still a language the people understand in 2025? Or has it become a forgotten dialect in a digital age?

Most importantly: has Kurai Makore managed to light the future of a genre his uncle sparked into flame decades ago? Or are we merely warming our hands on borrowed coals?

The answers might lie in the music. But the questions? They’re already humming in the wind.

And now, with Dzimwe Nguva, he turns the page again. What echoes will we hear this time? What truths will dance beneath the surface? Is Chimurenga still a language the people understand in 2025? Or has it become a forgotten dialect in a digital age?

Most importantly: has Kurai Makore managed to light the future of a genre his uncle sparked into flame decades ago? Or are we merely warming our hands on borrowed coals?

To find the answers, you may have to lean in a little closer. Listen deeper. Because they lie in the heart of the new album—Dzimwe Nguva—where memory meets prophecy, and the music does not just entertain, but interrogates.