She started rapping. The crowd roared with appreciation. The band behind her joined in with fast rhythms as the stage came alive with glowing designs and mandalas.

And above it all, there was one word suspended in midair — MATANGI.

A fairy tale podcast about the rebel women who inspire us. 

On this episode, Mathangi Arulpragasam, otherwise known as M.I.A. Rapper, singer, songwriter, and activist for social justice.

There was a storm brewing in Sri Lanka though. The country had two main ethnic groups — the Sinhalese and the Tamil. Mathangi and her family were Tamil and they wanted independence. They were even ready to fight for it. The country became very dangerous as a civil war escalated. So, when Mathangi was almost eleven, she, her brother and mom left Sri Lanka and fled to London. 

Even when it did, Maya felt very lonely. She was in a new country and she didn’t speak the language….

But at least she had art! Drawing and painting became her new best friends. She couldn’t wait to slip into the art room and create drama sets for the school play. 

She also started getting into hip-hop music. She felt like hip-hop expressed so many things she was feeling — joy, fear, anger, and hope all at once. While people from all backgrounds listen to and create hip-hop today, this kind of music originally came from Black-American cultures. The hip-hop scene Maya fell in love with was full of people not afraid to say the truth even if they were labeled an “outsider.” Maya was captivated by the way hip-hop celebrated so many backgrounds and was constantly evolving.

So she blasted hip-hop as loud as she could and danced her heart out — feeling the beats and rhythms in her skin.

She knew wherever she went, music and art could be her home.

Hello? 

‘Hello, Mathangi? I have some bad news…”

It was the week after Maya had graduated from art school in London. She’d worked so hard to get there and had put all her energy into creating paintings, film, and music that she was proud of. But that phone call changed everything.

Maya’s cousin, who was like a brother to her, had gone Missing In Action in Sri Lanka. While he was trying to defend the Tamil side he’d either been captured or killed. Maya was gutted. She couldn’t understand how a life so close to hers was just gone. They were the same age and played together as kids all the time. How was this possible? And what was she doing with an art degree when there were so many people from her homeland fighting for their lives?

There were jarring sounds. Honest sounds. She remembered the clash of people fighting in Sri Lanka and used that as part of her soundtracks. She wrote songs about what it was like to hear the world shattering all around her. Sometimes she just started with a thought and yelled into the microphone until the words took shape. 

M.I.A.’s songs were loud and edgy. She didn’t shy away from telling harsh truths about her life but she also wasn’t singing them so people would feel sorry for her. She wanted her art to inspire people to stand up for those who didn’t have a voice.

On her fourth album, she reclaimed her birth name, Mathangi. She learned that it came from the name of a Hindu goddess who expresses inner thoughts — which was exactly what Mathangi the artist strived to do. She was so proud to discover that she was embodying her namesake.

When Mathangi stepped on to the Terminal 5 stage in New York City decked out in glittering gold, she looked powerful. 

She had no idea what tomorrow would bring. But she was going to honor her past and be open to whatever happened next. 

The beats kicked in. The lights lit up the night. And with her name emblazoned above her head, Mathangi started to sing a brand new song.