Ethiopia’s version of Pop Idol is a far cry from the glamour and glitz of its British and United States inspirations.
Yellowed satin sheets and signs taped to the walls provide the backdrop. Frequent power cuts, feedback from poor sound equipment and even the ringing of cellphones compete with the singers.
Despite the makeshift set, hastily constructed each week in a shabby hotel restaurant while waiters peer in, Ethiopian Idols has fast won the highest ratings on otherwise dull state-run TV — and broken cultural and technological ground in this Horn of African nation.
The show even has its own Simon Cowell, the bad-guy judge on the British and US versions. Musician Feleke Hailu’s catch phrase — ”alta fakedem,” or ”you didn’t make it” in Amharic — may seem positively meek compared to Cowell’s acerbic reviews. But Feleke has caused a sensation in this tradition-bound culture.
”Most of the time I tell [contestants] to go back to their old jobs, forget about a career in singing,” he said matter of factly.
”Or I tell them they sing like donkeys.”
”Sometimes they get angry. The girls burst into tears and a few weeks ago one singer threw a stick at me after I told him he had failed to get through to the next round,” the 46-year-old saxophonist said. ”The problem is in our culture it is not common to tell the truth or criticise. People cannot take criticism.”
One fan, Ejigahu Melesse, says at first she and her friends were astounded by the bluntness of Feleke and his three fellow judges.
”I couldn’t believe what they were saying to the singers,” said the 25-year-old shop assistant.
”We just don’t do that here in Ethiopia. But gradually we became addicted because it was so refreshing. Now we don’t miss a show and think Feleke’s comments are hilarious.”
While the fans may be captivated, performers have been stung.
The judges ”are criminals,” said Natinel Amsalu, a 17-year-old student who was raked over the coals by the all-male panel after singing a croaky rendition of the Ethiopian popular song My Love.
”I am a very good singer but the judges kept saying I had serious problems reaching the high notes,” said Natinel, who practices each day in front of his mirror. ”They did not even listen to me. What they have done is a very bad thing.”
Natinel paid $10 of his hard-earned savings to travel 500km from Gonder in northern Ethiopia to Addis Ababa to compete.
Contestants like Natinel are drawn by the prospect of winning a record deal and not yet-determined cash prize. The year-long programme scheduled to end in September was put together on a budget of $100 000.
Pop Idol, first aired in Britain in 2001, has become a global phenomenon with fortunes up for grabs for the winners.
Will Young, who was Britain’s first Pop Idol winner, is now worth millions. American Idol, one of the most popular US TV shows, launched the career of singer Kelly Clarkson and revived that of ex-pop star and now judge Paula Abdul.
Ethiopian Idols cannot promise such riches or fame, but it offers hope in a country where most of the 77-million people can’t even afford their own TV set to watch the programme.
Medina Mohammed, a 17-year-old student who made it to the next round after singing a traditional love song, said her family watches the show in a bar.
”We love it,” she said.
”Feleke wasn’t too tough, but his reputation had made me nervous,” added Medina, who has tribal scars on her cheeks and performed in the multicolored beads and red cloth of her Afar ethnic group. Judges described her voice as ”honey-like”.
Some contestants tackle Western hits, but most sing Ethiopian love songs and wear the traditional national dress of white cotton or ethnic costumes.
After the four judges whittle down the original 2 000 contestants to 96, the winner will be decided by the public by a phone-in ballot, the first time such polling will be used in Ethiopia.
That and other details were copied from the Pop Idol original — without permission from Britain’s Fremantle Media, which owns global rights to the programme, as co-producer 33-year-old Jamal Ahmed freely admits.
”We are happy to pay although we don’t have much money,” said Jamal, joint head of JIT Media and Entertainment in Ethiopia, one of a tiny band of private media firms in the country. ”We have been in touch but as yet have not heard anything.”
Fremantle says it is aware of Ethiopian Idols.
”We do not want to force them off air, but this has to be a lawful production,” Fremantle legal expert Amanda Harcourt said in a telephone interview, adding an as-yet undetermined fee would be charged per episode.
”We are not talking about millions of dollars, we are talking about an appropriate fee based on the market,” she said. ”We do protect our intellectual property very rigorously and welcome the fact that they want to talk to us and are willing to pay for the rights.” – Sapa-AP