Ras Natty Baby told by his children

From Rodrigues to the streets of Port-Louis, from the pipes where he slept to the stage which consecrated him, Ras Natty Baby has gone through an entire life without ever losing either his truth or his humor. His children Salem and Marga tell the story of the man behind the artist.

There is one sentence that Marga will never forget. His father had just undergone surgery in India. She worried, as she had always worried about him, in silence, because he didn't leave much room for other people's worry. She had asked him the question from Maurice, on the phone, her voice tense. And he, from his hospital bed, unable to get up, responded with that smile that she always guessed through the words: “Mo pe bouz fix. »

Bedridden. But standing in the head. It was him. It was Ras Natty Baby. The artist died on Sunday April 26 at the age of 72.

“Mem dan so soufrans, li ti pe rod fer nou riye,” Marga says today, her voice trembling slightly. She is 52 years old, four children, she lives in Goodlands. When she talks about Ras Natty Baby, whose real name is Joseph Nicolas Emilien, she is not talking about an artist, not a public figure. She's talking about a father. Solid, dignified, who never wanted to show his flaws to those he loved. “Papa ti enn dimounn very strong… very courageous. Li pa ti kontan fer dimounn trakase pou li. »

Even when he was ill, he kept everything to himself. As if the pain should remain personal, intimate. He didn't say anything. Or only when the situation became too critical to remain silent. This protective silence, today, weighs heavy in the heart of her daughter. She remembers the moment when she learned, almost by chance, that her father was already hospitalized. His foot was severely swollen. His condition had been deteriorating for some time. “Mo pa ti kone li ti finished in the hospital… Se kan kitsoz finn vinn grav ki mo finn aprann. »

This shock remains engraved in her. A mixture of sadness, incomprehension, and deep down, she knows, love. Because if he said nothing, it was only to continue, until the end, to be the one who reassures rather than the one who is reassured.

When the situation worsens, Marga naturally becomes closer to her brother Salem, 39, who lived under the same roof as their father. Together, they face what no one is truly prepared to face. Each in their own way. Each with their own words. But with the same phrase that comes back, like a refrain that we repeat to ourselves to keep up: “Nou krwar li pou retour…” Because for them, their father was strong. Too strong to leave like that. Too alive, too anchored in their lives to disappear. And yet, reality imposes itself. Slowly. Brutally.

Salem is a luthier by profession. Passionate musician. He makes instruments with his hands, teaches the flute, transmits music as one transmits a memory, with the conviction that something essential must continue to live. It is a direct inheritance. “Papa ti viv pou