Andrew Cawley
Leah McAleer first met her little sister, Beldina Odenyo, when she was 13 years old and living in Dumfriesshire.
“Bel was my sister but she also felt like my baby. She was five or six when our dad brought her over from Kenya where we had grown up until our parents separated.”
“I think I tried my best as a 13 or 14-year-old to look after her and she was amazing.”
“She was such a spirit and she loved music right from the start. When she was about 12 and I was at university I remember her sending me a CD she’d made.
“She was just so driven and so talented and I was completely in awe of her.”
Leah McAleer
Bel continued to make music and a move to the Govanhill area of Glasgow, which she described as Scottish Harlem, helped her connect with many different projects.
A barnstorming performance at the Scottish Album of the Year in the Usher Hall, a forthcoming appearance at Celtic Connections and a debut album about to be released.
But within two weeks, Beldina, who performed under the stage name Heir of the Cursed, took her own life. She was 31-years-old.
“Her death was just this huge trauma,” says Leah.
“But I think in our confusion and horror we wanted to gather the pieces and different parts of her and do something to preserve her story.”
Chris Scott, Flint & Pitch
As well as recordings of her live performances, Bel had recorded hundreds of video diaries, which talked not just about her music but about the racism she experienced growing up in Scotland and her struggles with her mental health.
Leah, one of Bel’s 13 siblings, took the archive to her friend and neighbour, documentary maker Louise Lockwood and asked if she’d make a short tribute.
Louise said: “I knew she had a talented sister but I’d never seen her perform so my first introduction to Bel was watching some of this footage off her phone.
“I was completely blown away. It was so captivating, so raw, just that utterly brilliant, brilliant talent.
“Just her and her guitar in her flat filming herself.”
A year later, Leah told Louise she was planning to release Bel’s debut album.
“And I said, do you want a documentary to go along with that? She said, yes, please.”
That was four years ago, and the resulting film, Bel, has just closed the Edinburgh International Film Festival and will tour Scottish cinemas before being screened on the BBC.
For Louise, access to the archive of personal videos was invaluable.
“It was really important to give Bel the opportunity to speak for herself since she’s not here now,” she says.
“I’d seen a couple of tiny clips of her video diary that she’d actually filmed herself watching.
“And I always wondered, where’s that tape? We did a lot of searching and we found it in a camera.”
She says the premiere at the Cameo cinema in Edinburgh this week was fitting.
“Choosing us as the closing film was a total honour and incredibly exciting, but also really poignant considering the story and how important Edinburgh was to Bel.
Her last performance was near here at the Usher Hall so it was a perfect place for the world premiere.”
For Leah, a GP, it’s been an insight into her sister’s world.
“It’s amazing and it’s terrifying,” she says.
“There were some of our family who were happy to be up on stage and some who said ‘nope’, so as one of the ‘nopers’ it feels quite strange.
“But I also have a sense of Bel holding my hand and steering me in the right direction.
“Being her biggest fan and being able to have other people hear her music is amazing.”
