My journey in the music industry has been one of the toughest ever but also one of the most fulfilling. It started back in 2007 with my debut album Matsubutsubu, a genre-blending experiment that dabbled in everything from house to reggae to what I called “Adtro jazz.” That album wasn’t just a test it was my audition to the world. I was trying to see where I fit in. That’s when I realized: my soul speaks jazz.
Since then, I’ve released three full jazz albums. Every one of them has been a step forward, a lesson learned, and a story told. My most recent album, Mmamotse, is by far the most mature and personal project I’ve ever worked on. It reflects not just my growth as a musician, but also as a storyteller, a teacher, and a citizen of the world.
By day, I’m a teacher mostly at junior school level. That job, believe it or not, gives me a lot of time. Time to read. Time to write. Time to listen and absorb the world around me. And most importantly, time to meet people of all ages, backgrounds, and perspectives. My music draws heavily from real-life social issues, so these interactions are priceless. From the staffroom to the village street, I find stories that later turn into songs. But balancing both lives has its challenges. Most jazz gigs happen on Sundays. Imagine performing late into the night in Gaborone, then being expected to teach a class in Francistown by Monday morning! Still, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. These two worlds feed into each other beautifully.
Let’s talk about Mmamotse. This album didn’t just come from me it came to me. I literally woke up one night with the chorus playing in my head. I didn’t even know the song, but I grabbed a pen and wrote it down. The lyrics are powerful, poetic, and very real. They tell the story of Mmamotse, a wayward wife who breaks her husband’s heart by having a child with a neighbor. In the end, the man, overwhelmed by love and betrayal, takes his own life. It’s a lament and a bold commentary on male experiences of gender-based violence, something rarely explored in mainstream music.
This song has already sparked serious conversations. Some people say it’s the best track on the album. But then someone else will say That’s My Boy is the standout. Others swear it’s Botswana. And honestly, that’s the beauty of this project there’s something for everyone.
I take pride in the fact that my music doesn’t sound like anyone else’s. I fuse styles not for the sake of it, but because the message demands it. That’s My Boy, for instance, was inspired by a gospel meme. Buka, a song about the dangers of Facebook addiction and misinformation, leans into a Shona/Mtukudzi-style sound dominated by marimba. For a second, you’d think Tuku was in the studio with us. My goal has always been to make music that teaches. Music that reflects. Music that challenges. Ninety percent of my songs carry a message whether it’s about political victories, social decay, or moral introspection. I want you to dance, yes. But I also want you to think.
If you’ve heard my music, then you’ve also heard the fingerprints of Mr. Allie. He’s not just a producer, he’s my brother in sound. We’ve worked together since 2010, and although we argue (a lot!), we understand each other creatively in a way that’s almost telepathic. I bring the lyrics, he brings the beats. And together, we bring stories to life. Then there’s Elijah Dipatane, the guitar magician. The lead guitar changes everything in jazz; it brings emotion, identity, and that irreplaceable human touch. With Elijah on board, I know my songs are safe. We usually record on Saturday nights and work through to the early hours. It’s not just a session, it’s a ritual.
This album has taken me places. Literally. I performed in Francistown one weekend, and by the next, they had booked me again. Next stop: Mahalapye and Gaborone. We’re planning a full national tour, kicking off in Gaborone and ending there after touching every major town, even Mafikeng. That’s how we build the movement—one town, one story, one song at a time. I’ve also been giving away some of the songs for free because sometimes people need to hear the message before they realize they need the music. The response has been incredible. Crowds singing along, fans demanding their favorite choruses this is the dream I’ve been chasing.
You may only be hearing about me now, but I’ve been recording since 2007. It hasn’t been easy. Recognition has been slow. But I keep going. Because I’m a pitbull I never let go. I look at someone like Oliver Mtukudzi and remember that even legends start somewhere. We only heard about him around the 2000s, but he had been recording since the 60s. That’s what I call persistence.
To the young ones out there, I say this: never give up. Stick to your producer. Find someone who understands your sound and grow together. Mr. Allie is doing this album for free not because he has to, but because he believes in me. That’s loyalty. That’s love. And that’s what music is all about.
To my fans, thank you. For listening. For sharing. For believing. And to my family, especially my mother I know you still worry because I’m not making much from this, but trust me, patience, mama. One day, you’ll feel it.
Thank you to Celebrity World Magazine for this opportunity. And to everyone reading this keep an eye out. Whether you’re in Gaborone, Tsabong, or somewhere in between, I’m coming your way.
Celebrity World 
Duncan Sebeso