Rajery's concert in Antananarivo on Friday 13 December began with a minute's silence. In Madagascar the tradition is to venerate the spirit of one's ancestors – and the island's valiha hero insisted on instituting his own minute of silence in memory of his illustrious musical forbears: legendary flautist Rakoto Frah and Sengemanana from the group Senge, a former winner of the RFI World Music Award.

Stepping on stage at the Albert Camus Centre, bathed in a soft golden light, the valiha sun-king beamed his soft, golden smile on the audience before launching into his set. Dressed in Madagascar's traditional costume – like all the other members of his group – Rajery moved centre stage to give a short speech of thanks, announcing that "The RFI world music award is a victory for all Madagascan musicians. This award is going to help open doors for everyone abroad!"

Graciousness and modesty appear to be second nature to Rajery, but the valiha star's humble acceptance speech should not blind anyone to the fact that the award is very much his own personal victory. Rajery, who grew up in a poor peasant family in Madagascar, lost all the fingers on his right hand when he was just 11 months old. But that did not stop the determined young musician going on to master the valiha (a sort of tubular zither made from bamboo and bicycle brake cables). The determined young musician ended up as such a virtuoso on his chosen instrument that fans dubbed him not the man with the golden arm but the "musician with the golden stump!"

As the audience gathered at the Albert Camus Centre held their breath in anticipation, Rajery tuned his valiha while his team of musicians (Charles on guitar, Ramosa on bass and Nini and Raymond on percussion) awaited the signal to begin. With a nod of his head Rajery proceeded to launch into the opening strains of E sarotra ny miaina e (Madagascan for"It's difficult to live simply"), one of the most outstanding tracks on his second album, Fanamby. Madagascan music fans in the audience needed little encouragement to sing along with Rajery's incisive lyrics denouncing poverty and corruption. As for the considerable number of foreign fans in the crowd, they swayed along to the haunting melodies and compulsive rhythms, clapping their applause in time to the infectious beat.

Rajery kept up his sublime performance for almost an hour and a half, slipping easily from Madagascan to French – and even trying out a smattering of English. Needless to say, by the end of the show the crowd were cheering for more. Rajery himself appeared thoroughly delighted, proclaiming "This is a concert I've been waiting for for a long, long time. I've managed to rise to a major ‘fanamby’ (Madagascan for "challenge") in my own country."

Rajery is beginning to enjoy increasing recognition on the international scene, but no matter how often he brings the house down in Europe or America the valiha star has never lost his deep attachment to his homeland. Rajery is intent on sharing the fruits of his success with his compatriots, too. And, true to altruistic form, he used the RFI concert at the Albert Camus Centre as an excuse to organise the 9^th edition of "Valiha Week" in conjunction with Madamozika (an association of which he is co-president). "Valiha Week" consisted of an exhibition of photos and actual instruments, but also offered locals a series of free workshops where they could come and discover the joys of playing the valiha for themselves. "The goal of Valiha Week is to sensibilise the young – and not so young - to a traditional instrument from their homeland!" Rajery declared.

Martin, one of the teachers at the free workshops, explained that "we use a teaching method written by Rajery himself." "What's exciting is to see that the valiha is beginning to attract increasing interest because of the award Rajery's won. His dream now is to see the valiha become as popular throughout the whole of Madagascar as the guitar." The workshops in Antananarivo managed to attract dozens of would-be valiha players, especially from younger sections of the population, and the exhibition also proved a big hit with visitors. "Personally, it's been a means of discovering Rajery for me," explained one enthusiast named Jules. "He's the most brilliant valiha-player in Madagascar!" chimed in Solo. As for another fan called Etienne, he claimed to have come to the exhibition to re-discover the valiha, an instrument which incarnates "the soul of all Madagascans."

"This is a magical instrument!" proclaimed Rajery, waving his valiha over his head as he bid the crowd adieu at the Albert Camus Centre. But isn't that because you play it like a real magician, we wondered? "Maybe," replied the valiha hero, beaming his modest little smile.