Moshoeshoe Moshoashaila 1st and The Advent of Battle Rap (Histories Hidden MCees): A Review of Rap Culture as an Afrocentric Ideal

The Supreme Lyricist, and who many consider the greatest rapper of the modern era, Rakim Allah, ‘The God MCee,’ once proclaimed that the term MC meant ‘Move the Crowd.’ With my analysis today, I hope to move you as well, as I open up your mind and take you on a journey filled with braggadocio lyrics, call-and-response styles, themes of innate flash and flare that are undeniably African. I’ll explore whether these themes and nuances of storytelling still exist today—whether in LITHOKO or Basotho praise poems, rap as an Afro-American culture of lyricism, or the West African Griot tradition. The Griot was distinct from a storyteller; it was their job to know the history of lineages, towns, and villagers, using this knowledge in a fusion of myth, gossip, and fact to tell awe-striking stories that wet the listener’s palate and stretched their imagination.

I understand this, in my modern way, as rap, but you might interpret it differently.

When we speak of rap, we often equate it with the genre of hip-hop. Yet, as most hip-hop historians will tell you, hip-hop is a culture, with rap being only one of five pillars—breakdancing, graffiti, beatboxing, and the ever-important pillar of Knowledge of Self. In this sense, rap can be considered a separate, yet vital entity within the culture, with its own roots, which I will attempt to trace. Smitherson (1997) calls the rapper "the postmodern griot, the verbally gifted storyteller and cultural historian."

You often hear that Africa’s history was only passed down orally, but this downplays the sophistication with which these stories were told—whether tales of triumph, histories of lineages, or cultural lore. These stories were always told with distinctive style, magnificent similes, metaphors, and, of course, braggadocio.

Toop (1984) notes that rap, as a form of expression, originated from the Black tradition of toasting, where toasters would deliver lengthy, rhyming monologues about their exploits, portraying themselves as victorious. Think of Muhammad Ali’s famous lines: "I float like a butterfly, sting like a bee… don’t mess with Muhammad Ali."

Toop acknowledges that this tradition is rooted in West Africa, tied to the African Griot—essentially the profession of storytelling. In my research, I found that this form of storytelling, or rapping, wasn’t confined to West Africa but also existed in Lesotho, in the Southern parts of Africa, through the exploits of the founder of our Basotho Nation: The Great Moshoeshoe I.

Born in 1786, Moshoeshoe is recognized as the first king and founder of the Kingdom of Lesotho, having united multiple clans and ethnic groups through diplomacy and peace, rather than war. His strategy of peace continues to be a central pillar of the country’s identity.

In his youth, before founding the Kingdom of Lesotho, and when he was still a minor chief, Moshoeshoe (birth name Lepoqo) was known for his brash and combative nature. He expressed this both physically and through his chosen form of lyricism: LITHOKO. It would take the guidance of a great sage named Mohlomi to lead him towards the path of peace—a strategy for nation-building that I’ve explored extensively under the title Mohlomirism as a Nation-Building Strategy (a Google search should suffice).

In any setting where rap is involved, the MC name is of massive importance. It serves as the calling card for any rapper, signifying strength, as with Knowledge Reigns Supreme (KRS-One); impenetrability, as with the Wu-Tang Clan; or ferocity, as with the fear-inducing name of the Clan’s founding member, Ghostface Killah. Our story, however, is different.

As I mentioned, the King we now know as the Great Moshoeshoe was born as Lepoqo. His name signifies bravery, clever wordplay, and the conquering of foes through both action and words. It wasn’t enough for the young Lepoqo to simply defeat his enemy; no, history had to bear witness to his triumph.

The story goes that Moshoeshoe faced a foe named Ramonaheng in battle. After a raid, Ramonaheng lost his cattle, a vital source of wealth for any chief at the time. Lepoqo, victorious, immortalized his feat in a form of toasting/rap/LITHOKO. Observing how he had completely dismantled and demoralized his enemy, Lepoqo compared the loss to Ramonaheng’s pride being stripped away, just as a man’s beard would be lost in shame.

Brutal in battle and lyricism, Lepoqo likened himself to the razor that had cut his enemy’s beard, noting the eerie sound of the razor as it swiftly passed by his opponent’s face: SHWE, SHWE, SHWE! As the personification of the razor, Moshoeshoe 1st became the "stepping razor," as Peter Tosh would put it. Enemies, beware.

The name would echo throughout time. While Moshoeshoe’s later years were marked by peace, his victory over Ramonaheng would remain legendary. To emphasize his brutal defeat of his foe, Moshoeshoe, in a praise poem, would exclaim, “I have sheathed him completely of his pride (beard), even now it has not grown back!”

As young people, we often believe that great feats and mastery of lyricism in hip-hop are a recent development. My generation might argue that the Nas vs. Jay-Z beef represented the greatest battle in rap history, while today’s generation has Kendrick Lamar and Drake.

But would either of them have fared against the Stepping Razor? Hahahah, just a thought.