At the age of 88, the renowned singer Mariam Bagayoko continues to perform with infectious energy, presenting fans with the rhythms of ancient Mali. Performing at the Palace of Culture in Bamako, she demonstrated impressive movements, using a percussion instrument called yabara in her right hand—made from a large pumpkin filled with dry seeds—which clacked sharply against her left palm.
This sound harmonized with the deep notes of the ngussumbala—a large xylophone-like balafon unique to the Beledugu region in central-western Mali, known for its rural musical traditions. Before starting her performance, she made a gesture of respect to the guardian spirits and griots, keepers of oral tradition, after which she performed powerful songs in the Bambara language, evoking images of village gatherings under the moonlight.
Bagayoko, known as the 'Nightingale of Beledugu,' has introduced the lesser-known local traditions of Mali to the world for decades. In late 2025, she was awarded an honor for lifetime achievements at the Aga Khan Music Awards in London. She became one of 11 finalists selected from over 400 candidates from Africa, Asia, the Middle East, and Europe.
The jury, which included Malian star Oumou Sangaré and renowned Catalan early music master Jordi Savall, highly praised her 'passionate and unwavering dedication' to preserving and transmitting Mali's musical heritage, paying special attention to women and girls.
Born in Kolokani, north of the capital Bamako, in Beledugu, where music and dance accompany every stage of life—from fieldwork to ceremonies—Bagayoko recalls learning to 'sing even before I could speak.' As a child, she followed the village women who ground shea nuts to make oil, always accompanying their work with songs. She joined them with her small pumpkin instrument and sang.
'At first, no one paid attention to me. But gradually, my presence became indispensable,' she shares. These simple melodies eventually made her one of the most famous ambassadors of traditional Malian music. However, her father, a musician and performer in traditional local Kotoba theater troupes, opposed her musical aspirations. She remembers: 'He feared that if I succeeded too quickly, I wouldn't live long, that I might be poisoned out of jealousy.'
Using old songs from her country, Bagayoko's music addresses social issues and offers advice inspired by current events. She asserts: 'The artist's privilege is the ability to speak out. Through song, we deliver lessons without causing pain to people, even when they see themselves in what we are talking about.'
One of her most famous performances is the song 'Ciwara,' dedicated to the courage of farmers and the value of hard labor. She is also known for dancing on the wooden keys of the ngussumbala, turning this instrument into a stage. A significant part of her reputation is based on her efforts to keep Bambara music and dance alive.
'I have taught many young people who have continued their own paths and are still grateful to me. The idea is to ensure that none of this disappears,' she says. Bagayoko worries that traditional music is losing its 'intrinsic value' due to how technology and foreign influence are altering local sounds. She notes: 'Today, the ngussumbala and yabara are still present in our music, but you no longer hear the rhythms of our homeland. The younger generation has modernized and adapted them to rhythms from other countries.'
Through her cultural project 'Tiebilentie,' she helped revive the acrobatic masked dance, which was previously used only in ritual ceremonies, bringing it to weddings and celebrations in Mali and abroad. Bagayoko finds comfort in the thought that her legacy will survive her through her children and youth. At a concert in Bamako, she smiled and said: 'My daughter sang and danced for the audience just like me. She even played the balafon... the future is in safe hands.'