I Tried a Bunch of African Instruments. Here’s What Actually Stuck With Me

I didn’t plan this. A street festival pulled me in. A djembe called out with three hits—boom, tone, slap—and my feet moved before my brain did. Since then, I’ve spent real time with a bunch of African instruments. Some I own. Some I borrowed. A few I just couldn’t put down.
For the play-by-play of every instrument that tried to follow me home, check out the extended story here if you’re curious.

You know what? They don’t feel the same in your hands as they do on YouTube. And that’s the magic.

The Djembe: Loud, Warm, and a Little Bossy

My main hand drum is a rope-tuned djembe from Meinl, 12 inches, carved wood, goat skin head. To see the full lineup from back in the day, you can flip through Meinl’s 2016 percussion catalog here. I learned “bass, tone, slap” the hard way—slaps will bite if your hands are tight. After a week of sore palms, I relaxed my fingers, and the sound opened up. Big lesson.

  • What I love: It moves air. In a circle, it cuts through. Bass is a hug; slaps are lightning.
  • What bugs me: Dry heat messes with the head. I rub a tiny bit of shea butter around the rim (not the playing area), and I keep it away from vents.
  • Real tip: If the rope feels rough, a little wax on a rag keeps my hands from burning on long tunes like Kuku or Kassa.

Long rehearsals can still leave my forearms screaming for a pro tune-up, and whenever a gig drops me near the Hudson Valley I lean on the Rubmaps’ Newburgh massage-parlor index—a straight-shooting directory packed with user reviews, pricing, and hours that helps me lock in a trustworthy spot for deep-tissue relief before the next set.

I took a Saturday class with a teacher from Conakry. We played parts, then breaks. When the dunun locked in, my chest shook. That’s the moment I fell in love. It buzzed with the same open-door creativity I later felt at the Coast 2 Coast Music Conference in Miami, where beats spill out of every hallway.

The Kalimba vs. Mbira: Couch Friend vs. Deep River

I own a Hugh Tracey Treble Kalimba in G. It’s small, bright, and sits in my lap while tea cools. Tunes just…flow. I trim my nails short and use a dab of coconut oil after long sessions because the tines can make my thumbs tender at first.

Then I borrowed a mbira dzavadzimu at a community jam. It sat in a calabash (deze) with that soft buzz—like honey on sound. We played “Nhemamusasa.” The music felt circular, like breathing. It’s deeper and heavier than kalimba, and yes, harder.

  • Kalimba pros: $60–$120 gets you a good one. Easy to carry. Great for late nights.
  • Kalimba cons: Bright tone can feel thin alone. Metal tines can pinch if set too low.
  • Mbira pros: That buzz! It fills a room. Patterns feel ancient and kind.
  • Mbira cons: Tuning is a journey. Expect to use needle-nose pliers and patience. Price is higher ($200–$500+).

Still, I play both. Kalimba when I need calm. Mbira when I need roots.

The Kora: A Harp You Wear

I rented a 21-string kora from a teacher who plays in New York. Big gourd body, cowhide, two handles, leather rings for tuning. I sat with a tuner app, moved rings millimeter by millimeter, and breathed like I was doing yoga.

First time I played a kumbengo pattern, the room got soft. The kora doesn’t shout. It glows.

  • What I love: You can play bass and melody together. It’s like two voices that get along.
  • What’s hard: Humidity shifts the tuning. It’s not a quick “grab and go” instrument.
  • Money note: A solid student kora often runs $1,200–$2,500. You’re paying for a real build, and it’s worth it if you’re serious.

If sunrise had a sound, this would be it.

The Talking Drum: Squeeze, Bend, Speak

Mine is a small Ghana talking drum with a curved stick. You tuck it under your arm, squeeze the cords, and the pitch slides like a voice. It’s great for call-and-response with singers.

  • Love: It can laugh. It can cry. People turn their heads when they hear it.
  • Gripe: Leather dries fast. I use a tiny bit of shea butter around the edges. Also, it’s tricky to mic on stage.

I use it for short breaks between songs. It wakes up a crowd without yelling.

Udu (Clay Pot Drum): The Studio Sweetheart

I bought an LP Claytone udu on a whim. It looks like a pot, because it basically is. The low “whoomp” you get when you cover and open the hole is wild. It sits on a foam ring on my coffee table, and I tap it with fingers and palms.

  • Love: Recordings love this drum. It layers under vocals like soft thunder.
  • Gripe: It’s fragile. Don’t let the dog near it. Also, cold rooms make it feel a bit dull.

If you like texture and quiet power, this is your buddy.

Balafon and Gyil: Wooden Roads You Can Walk

I spent a month with a 14-key balafon tuned to a D pentatonic. Gourd resonators had thin film on them (traditionally spider web or thin plastic), so it buzzed in a sweet way. The mallets felt alive; even a gentle hit sang.

  • Love: Rhythms sit right in the body. Easy to hear parts with friends.
  • Gripe: It takes space. And moving it in a small car? Yeah…no.

If you teach kids or play outdoor shows, this lights up faces.

Shekere (and Axatse): Shake Joy, But Mind the Gourd

I’ve got a Toca shekere with beads laced around a dried gourd. It’s simple, loud, and fun. I use a soft brush to dust it, because grit under the beads will chew the shell. I had a cheaper gourd crack when it fell off a stand. Lesson learned: use a hook or place it on a soft towel.

Plastic versions are tougher, but they don’t bloom the same way. Trade-offs, right?

Little Things That Help (Trust Me)

  • Trim nails for kalimba/mbira. Your thumbs will thank you.
  • Keep goatskin away from heaters and car dashboards.
  • Loosen drum ropes or heads before flights.
  • Store udu on a padded ring. Don’t stack stuff on it. Ever.
  • For mbira buzz, a bottle cap strip can add life. For kalimba, a felt pad under the board calms ringy tones.

Cost, Space, and Where I Actually Buy

  • Djembe: $120–$800 (rope-tuned wood with goat skin costs more but sounds warmer).
  • Kalimba: $50–$120 (Hugh Tracey, Gecko, Hokema all treated me well).
  • Mbira: $200–$600+ (get one set up by a builder; it matters).
  • Udu: $100–$200 (LP and Meinl are steady).
  • Balafon: $400–$900 (plus room to store it).
  • Kora: $1,200–$2,500+ (learn from a teacher; it saves time and tears).

For a reliable online source, Coast2CoastMusic curates a solid selection of African drums, kalimbas, and accessories—with clear specs and quick shipping.

I look on Reverb for used gear. I also ask local drum shops if they have West African pieces—they often know teachers. Buying from makers in Mali, Guinea, Ghana, Nigeria, or Zimbabwe feels right, and the sound shows it.
And because a lot of gear talk (and surprise friendships) now happens in random chat rooms, you may stumble into spaces that quickly shift from music nerd-outs to full-on flirting; if you’re curious—or cautious—about navigating that turn, check out this practical guide on staying safe and reading the room when things get spicy on free chat platforms: How to Get Sex on Free Chat Sites for straight-talk tips about consent, boundaries, and keeping the vibe fun without risking your privacy.

Culture and Care: Play With Respect

Learn the names of rhythms and where they come from. Ask who taught you. If a song is for harvest, or a ceremony, say it out loud. It keeps the line intact. It