Comrade Fatso’s blog

Living life in a van. On the road. Cramped. Tired. Off to the next town. The next show. Living life in a van. Where did we just play. I dunno. Where are we off to. I can't remember. Play the show. Get the applause. Take the respect. Disconnect the PA. Pack the van. Again. Did we remember the mics. Yes. Let's go. Where are we going. I forgot. 

The word is spreading. Like a veld fire in October. We’ve blazed venues all across the East Coast of the US over the last one and a half weeks. The Spread The Word Tour has seen me, Chabvondoka and Outspoken hitting concerts from Massachusetts to Connecticut. We’ve been using the riot of spoken word and live music to spread the word about the ongoing struggle for social justice in Zimbabwe.

We need new forms of solidarity in this stage of our struggle. Our American comrades need to understand our need to resist Zimbabwe’s illegitimate foreign debt and to struggle against a wholesale of our resources to the highest foreign bidder. We need to maintain the spotlight on Zimbabwe as we push for a new people-driven constitution and real social and economic rights for the people at the grassroots. It is upon us to make sure the ‘inclusive’ government doesn’t become part of the extended WaBenzi clan on the continent. As Outspoken said at a recent Hip Hop Festival at Tufts University “We still have unjust laws such as the Public Order and Security Act which force more than 5 people to apply for police clearance for a political meeting.”

We’ve carried this message of hope and resilience, of humour and alternatives, from the Trinity International Hip Hop Festival to Tufts Hip Hop Festival for Social Change, from Wellesley College to Needham, Massachussetts. Through music we’re showing the alternative view of Africa and of Zimbabwe. Through the word we’re spitting a picture of Africa that is not what they portray on the corporate media. We joke in shows that we have lions for pets and Africa is just a lot of hunger and dirt. And then we hit them with the most conscious, radical rhythms and lyrics. High school kids have called our shows ‘life changing’, college students have said we’re the best band they’ve ever seen, hip hop heads have called our music ‘ill and energetic’… And the word will keep spreadin’. New York, DC and New Jersey here comes the spoken word revolution!

For more info on the Spread the Word Tour see www.comradefatso.com 

At a time when the US is set to begin a new era in its place in a world wracked by war, poverty and injustice it is vital to continue the exchange of ideas and the process of solidarity between the grassroots of America and Africa. The Spread The Word Tour is bringing to the East Coast of the US two of Zimbabwe’s leading protest bands to play at festivals, clubs and campuses to create these links and start a new phase of global dialogue. Coming from a country of extreme human rights violations and rampant poverty it has never been more important to hear the words, thoughts and music of these youthful African cultural activists.

Running from the 1^st till the 26^th of April The Spread The Word Tour features Comrade Fatso & Chabvondoka, Zimbabwe’s leading protest band, and Outspoken & The Essence, one of the country’s most cutting edge spoken word hip-hop groups. Comrade Fatso & Chabvondoka’s album, House of Hunger, is banned in Zimbabwe yet has received praise globally having been labeled as ‘undeniably alluring’ by Canada’s Mail and Globe. Fatso and his band have toured extensively, with their poetry and music appearing in print and broadcast media in over fifty countries while Fatso’s poetry is studied at universities in the UK and South Africa. Outspoken & The Essence are a fresh, radical sound in Harare, combining conscious lyrics with an afrosoul hip-hop sound. Outspoken has performed regularly in southern Africa having featured at most major poetry festivals in Zimbabwe, Botswana and South Africa. Outspoken and Fatso are also the founders of Magamba!, a youthful cultural activist network that uses arts and culture in the struggle for justice in Zimbabwe.

On the 29th of March 2008 Zimbabweans dreams were stolen. On the 29th of March 2009 dreams were reawakened. Hope sang.

One year after Zimbabwe's stolen elections noise erupted at the Bassline in Newtown, Jo'burg as leading musicians from the region sung songs of solidarity. Organised by Magamba and partners LNM and ZSF, MAKE SOME NOISE! A Concert For Freedom In Zimbabwe was attended by an estimated 800 people and was blessed by leading artists such as Thandiswa Mazwai, Kwani Experience, Pops Mohammed, Chirikure Chirikure, TJ Dema, Comrade Fatso and Chabvondoka, Tumi and the Volume featuring Zubz, Outspoken and the Essence, Steve Makoni, Sam Mutkudzi, DJ Kenzhero, 340ml, Napo Masheane, Upmost and Stan and many many more powerful voices. MC'd by the one and only Lebo Mashile MAKE SOME NOISE aimed to build people-to-people solidarity in the region and to maintain a spotlight on the Zimbabwe crisis despite the so-called inclusive government. Lebo Mashile got the message across that "the people of Zimbabwe are crying out for a new constitution, freedom of expression and for their social economic and human rights". Southern Africa came together in a powerful show of solidarity!

Harare's dark. A dark city where street lights are now ragged flagpoles holding up the billlowing black sky. And the black sky shines down on us. It shines down on the gaping potholes-now-ponds. It shines on the broken bottles of imported beers that now ironically litter local streets. It shines down on the single file queues of prostitutes who line Harare's avenues. As rooted to the scenery as its trees. Black sky shines down on the police looking to arrest the prostitutes. And extort sex from them in a dingy avenue. The sky shines on the shadows that live behind the trees. The tsotsis who wait to stab a body for a few worthless Zim dollars and a cellphone. The sky shines down on the bodies huddled in shop doors. Not waiting for food. Just waiting to die. The black sky shines on us all. Every evening. After sunset. These are our home affairs. 

Desperate isn't the word. It's not even close. Human beings dying from hunger in what was once a bread basket. Inflation reducing souls to scavengers. No, Zimbabwe isn't desperate. It's dying. Slowly.

Street kids litter the streets like a Marechera nursery tale. Children who should be singing in school uniforms are on the streets hustling for a breath of life. But they still smile. Like all Zimbabweans. We have a disease. Maybe our smile is supposed to make you feel sorry for us. Maybe our smile is to show you that we are powerful enough to rise above the decay. Maybe our smile is just laughter on hold until it can continue once again. But still we smile.

While ZANU PF decides ministries are more important than people. While the West goes through a credit crunch. Still we smile. We have no credit to crunch. Their crunch comes from years of shop-til-you-drop greed and consumerism. Our crisis means drop-til-you-shop. Their crunch comes from economies built on fat cats' fantasies. Our crisis comes from non-economies built on politicians' illusions. They thought they had endless credit. We have no doubt about our debt. Maybe we can teach them a lesson. Maybe we can export smiles to London and New York. Smiles during times of hardship. Smiles that mean nothing. And everything. A smile that you wear when you wake in the morning without a penny in your pocket. A smile that means victory and defeat. A smile that is just laughter on hold until it can continue once again.

Purple flowers carpet Harare's streets. The jacarandas have blossomed and fallen. The seasons have changed. Heat has replaced cold. But the sun has never made poverty smile. The poor stand in sun-drunk bank queues that have now been dubbed 'bank crowds'. Because any semblance of a queue disappeared along time ago. Now the mobs are on the streets. Paused. Waiting for cash. Because who has the energy to demonstrate. For what? Don't we now have an opposition ruling party?

The queue curves around the corner like a frozen riot. People are standing chin-to-back, stomach-to-buttocks. Shoving. And desperate. What would have been ZANU propaganda from heaven if it were a queue at a polling station just weeks ago is today a sad sign of the times. They are queuing for sugar. A rare sweet thing in life. Because all politics means to the people of Harare is beatings, blood and broken hopes.