It isn’t what you need but what you already have! [Archives:2003/680/Opinion]

By Adam Taha
UK
[email protected]
There were two young Yemenis. One had all the music equipment to create his own songs, to mix and master to a release quality and make money. Then there was the opposite artist to him. He didn't have anything but a slow computer, a walk man, a GBP1.00 old headphone and software that he paid for GBP25.00.
The one with all the equipment didn't appreciate the equipment he had and was not that inspired and he came from a rich family. The other artist came from a poor background but something happened to him. He would be excited when learning, excited with the struggle and a little achievement and success gave him joy. He would take notes on how he did things. He created music by singing on a computer microphone, which one uses for chat rooms, a walk man to record the beats that he created on the computer, and then he would put the headphones on and listen to the beat while he pressed record on the music computer software and sang. This kept his singing on time and recorded his vocals separately from the beat he created. That way he can put some sound effects on his recorded vocals without touching the beat.
When finished a song, he would burn it onto CD and run to his friends with excitement. His friends had the most sophisticated equipment you can imagine but he had something simple, and yet, they were moved by this Yemeni artist, and suddenly a change happened to them and they too got inspired and realized, more wasn't better. Less was better. Less was the key to take away power from technology and let their inner creativity take place. Less meant that they earn what they created, pushed their imaginations even further but this Yemeni didn't stop there.
He didn't have much to create beats. He didn't have a keyboard. He had something that shook the other rich artists. What he did was walk on trains and records the sound they make. He would walk into Yemeni cafes and record sounds of people talking, laughing and even babies crying, using a powerful microphone he borrowed from his friend and a mini disk he swapped for his hi-fi system he got for a present. Whatever many took advantage of; he took advantage, even the wind, and the rain and went to home to do something amazing.
He would record the sounds back into computer, chop them up and make all of them into beats, hip-hop beats. Even the laughter became a beat, a grove, a skip to move you. He did this when he did this kind of work at home since he was 14 years old while his friends who were 17 were busy watching football, as their equipment were not used but gathered dust upstairs.
That young Yemeni boy was I. I wasn't blessed with an easy life; I wasn't blessed to have neither an education nor someone to support me. But I did the best I could with the little I had and I grew up to believe that it is not what I need in this world that will take me anywhere but what I already have inside me. Allah, gave us all what we need inside and it is when the heart is truthful, when we hold not to the world, whether material, wealth, power or flesh that we can speak with such passion and words to move people.
I remember a time, when I didn't have money. Not one penny to record in the finest of recording studios, yet, a week later, I sat in a recording studio that cost GBP500 a day to hire, equipped with the most amazing music software and equipment, and musicians of amazing calibre and they were all working. Working on what? Working for me, for free and I didn't even pay for recording time. If ever we wanted others to believe then I learnt that we must be true to the belief itself, and believe more in our dreams than anyone else.
I remember a writer I knew, a year ago. He was a friend and this what he said to me;
“I use to think that it was about the city I was in. I thought because of the lack of opportunities in this city that I would never get to write the articles I so wanted to write. I got tired writing stupid articles when I wanted to write about foreign affairs, economics, and politics but here I was, writing about fashion, about shoes, trainers and jackets.
I thought I needed to get out of this city. I needed to leave and apply for jobs in another city or even a country. Then it dawned on me. I closed my eyes, imagined what I wanted to be, what I really wanted to write and opened my eyes to do exactly this. I left my job but I didn't leave the city because I was looking for job. I left the city 2 years later because I became a successful writer in politics.”
He learnt what I learnt by Allah's mercy. We shouldn't wait for opportunities to come. They already came when we were born. It is just we look through the world with shades and not with the eyes of our hearts. We live in a world that dreams are just stories, fantasies and not real. It is only real when it happens. So damn ironic! It is a world that will cheer at a hero but heroes never accomplished anything with the help of this selfish world. The world always watches and stares at a hero when he or she struggled. When that hero overcomes the challenges then they cheer, then they come to help.
But is there a price you pay for a dream? Yes and that is why, in my field, I haven't met one Yemeni within the RnB, Hip Hop and Acoustic scene, writing, singing and producing in English. The price my Yemeni brothers and sisters is never knowing you will ever reach the end of your dream, the uncertainty that it will ever happen and no matter how many help you, whatever their agenda maybe, you will always walk alone and friends will be so few. You have to be a man or man who embraces struggle and willing to get up every time life kicks you in the face. It is never about what you need. You have already everything that you need, whether rich or poor. You have God. You are rewarded not for the result because the result is out of our hands. We are rewarded for deeds, our efforts. But what about the bad times or tears and the pain? There is no bad, or pain, or sorrow in my eyes. There are but tests that give the opportunity to bring the goodness or the bad within us, and though my armor is dusty, shield holds so many dents from many battles I lost and some I won, and my sword is blunt, I know, my grip is strong and Allah is watching. That is all I need to feel alive. Allah knows and He is watching. What else can I ever ask for? This for me gives me all the fight in me to get up, wipe the dust again and carry on.
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