Life moves fast. Decay is part of this. Upon returning to Zimbabwe from the UK I was welcomed back to ‘the land of hardware stores’. Because all that supermarkets seem to be selling are empty shelves. New forms of queues have been created by our revolutionary government. Yes, our rulers don’t lack innovation. Bread queues are so last year. We now have beer queues and soft drink queues. This, comrades, is progress. ZANU (PF) style.
I’m now in South Africa, doing the final mix of my album that I recorded with my band Chabvondoka. A revolutionary album that combines my spoken word with a fusion of Chimurenga, Hip Hop, Jazz and Afrobeat. It is an album layered with voices, stories and insurrectionary music. In creating it we hope to be doing what Mapfumo did in the 70’s: fusing Western and indigenous to create a new music that inspires, a music that incites a generation.
My past few days here have been full. I’m performing at the Speak the Mind Sessions at the Arts Alive Festival in Jo’burg on the 28th and 29th of September then the following day I’m performing at the Awesome Africa Festival in Durban. I’m staying in Durban for the rest of that week, performing at the Poetry Africa Festival until the 7th October. So I’ve been trying to balance the mixing with the many requests from South African corporate media for interviews and performances. Tuesday night was an interview and performance on the SABC Sentec Channel.
Yesterday was mad. Driving around insanely with my man Teba for the 8.15am interview/performance on the popular youth station YFM where I showered listeners with the incite-ful poem, ‘The Streets‘. After this we made a mad rush to get to SAFM for 9.15 for another interview/performance. (For those of you in SA this interview will be live on SAFM tomorrow Fri 21st after 9pm) From there we ran up the stairs to SABC Africa for the Afro Show Biz show which is broadcast throughout the whole of Africa on DSTV. Me and the presenter, Masechaba, chatted about the struggle in Zimbabwe and how we use arts and culture to try and liberate our people. (For those with DSTV this show will be live throughout Africa on SABC Africa at 8.30 pm this Saturday 22nd) Then me ‘n’ Teba grabbed a pie and some fresh-carbon-filled air and made our way to the final interview on Mnet Africa Magic’s Africa Awakes show. (See this show on DSTV on Mnet Africa Magic on Monday at 7am) It was a good day of using the corporate media to spit revolutionary poetry and spread the knowledge about the people’s struggle back home.
I’m now sitting in Ikwezi Studio’s with my old shamwari, Vusa, mixing the third track. Soon bed will be calling because it’s another 6am start for morning TV interviews. No rest for the restless.
They call it Unit K for a reason. This muddy, imperial island that has absorbed, sucked in so many strong Zimbabweans. So Zimbas in turn name it after a popular, dusty neighbourhood in Harare's largest ghetto or second biggest town depending on how you view it. Here in the UK, sorry, Unit K it's similar. It is at once an English country and a Zimbabwean ghetto. A country adorned with a Union Jack and an invisible, scattered army of millions of Zimbabweans fleeing from home. Fleeing from failed Structural Adjustment Programmes and One Party State Projects. Fleeing to this. Unit K. Knife-edge. Kachasu-headed. Kleptomania. Konsumerism. Kapitalism. Kold. Unit K.
I played at the 5000-person ZimFest on Saturday. The biggest Zimbabwean festival in the UK, awash with nostalgia and sadza, Rhodies and proud Zimbabweans, Zimbabwe's scattered future. So I performed a revolutionary set of poetry accompanied by the skilled Mashasha on bass. The crowd was crying out in unison to the song 'Mahara' and then began to jive to the naughty-jiti track 'City City'. We ended the set with the powerful 'Bread and Roses' featuring Chiwoniso. A poem that sings of the valiant struggles of women in Zimbabwe, the struggles of the WOZA movement (Women of Zimbabwe Arise) and the hope there is for justice in our beloved country. There in front of me swaying and bobbing to the music was Zimbabwe's lost generation, the diaspora generation. It felt like Harare's youth had relocated to London and left a ghost town of memories behind. It felt like hope was human beings and they had been exiled. As if the vibrance, the creativity, the rebelliousness of youth had been denied accreditation, banned from our country and now our former coloniser is reaping the benefits.
A group of burly, butch Rhodies approached me afterwards, I thought to hit me. No, to hug me. "Bread and Roses is amazing, man. Keep it going hey!" I guess there's hope yet.
