KHUZWAYO

THE death of Zambia’s legendary songbird Angela Nyirenda’s son, Khuzwayo, 15, is quite shocking.

Though the majority Zambian public have only known the existence of this young lad through his mom’s ballad “Khuzawo” from her first album Malo Abwino in 2004, I had several close encounters with this boy.

I first met this young man just three years after his mother released her first album. Angela was at the time staying in Kaunda Square Stage II. I think it was in early 2007 if my memory serves me right. She was renting a quarter at the same residence where my homeboy Bruce Mwewa used to rent another quarter. I remember the first time I saw the boy. He was walking alongside his mom, holding her hand’

I remember my boy Bruce directing my attention with his head towards Angela and her son before he said, “That is the famous Khuzwayo”. I thought to myself, that is one handsome little man.

Two years passed before I again run into this boy. This time it was in Lusaka West. As fate would have it, my homeboy Ndakala Lesa used to rent a house at the same farm where I believe Angela Nyirenda and Moses Sakala are rented another house. I believe they still live there. From that time onwards, I always bumped into this boy playing with his friends along the dusty road every time I was in Lusaka West during my June and December Varsity vacations.

I used to have dreadlocks between 2008 and 2011 and I remember how the boy would give me this look whenever we run into each other within or outside the farm. I swear, every time I ran into this boy I thought he was going to follow his mom’s steps and become a singer some day.

I even entertained this idea that he would one day become a huge star and I would go on to write an article about how I watched him play with his friends in the dusty roads of Lusaka West. I last saw Khuzwayo in December 2014. He was as usual playing with his friends along the same dusty road. I still remember what he was wearing.

I never had a chance of talking to this boy. But he struck me as a cool, calm and thoughtful young lad. And it was not only his dreads that made him stand out among his peers. He just had this aura that told you he was a special kid.

"Khuzwayo mwana wangu. Khuzwayo niku konda. Khuzwayo oh. Khuzwayo niku konda neo."  For sure Angela loved her son with a mother's love and I can’t even begin to imagine what she is going through losing two young sons within a space of five years.

I have searched high and low for the song “Khuzwayo” on the Internet this morning and I can’t find it anywehere. All the links claiming to have the song have turned out to be dead ends. Please if anyone has the song, I would appreciate if you can forward it to me either through the WhatsApp line +27713789370 or email: LubutoWestFoundation@yahoo.com. I will really appreciate that.

I send my prayers and thoughts to Angela and her family. And may the soul of Khuzwayo rest in eternal peace. See you on the other side little man.

Hasta La Vista, BB

I WAS just reading an article on the Internet earlier on that BlackBerry is shutting down its phone business after 14 years of making handsets. The company confirmed that it’s out of the Smartphone manufacturing business.

I knew this day would come. I am a die-hard BlackBerry user ONLY because I love the physical keyboard which has value if you think and talk in complete sentences.

BlackBerry 9300 Curve was my first "Smartphone" about 4 years ago, after my silver little Nokia 6030. It was a "major upgrade” from that little Nokia. I was the "talk of the town" where my family was concerned with that BlackBerry.

Man, who would have guessed 4 years ago that BlackBerry would be put out of business? I remember a time not so long ago when anyone who needed a phone for business had a BlackBerry. Unfortunately, BlackBerry (or RIM as they were known in those days) rested on their laurels and didn't keep up with a rapidly changing market. That's what happens when you don't innovate. BlackBerry became too complacent. They should have gone the Android and touch screen way the very moment others took that route.

But all in all, I will always love these Smartphones. They are so user friendly and produce amazing quality photos. I have years of good experiences to always think fondly of a once significant, though slightly elite, brand.

Oh well . . . . . I might as well get myself a second hand 9300 Curve that I can use until the end of December when WhatsApp finally stops working on non Android phones.

I will surely miss the keyboard cause I really hate finicky touch screens Hasta la vista, BB.

A Tribute To My Late Grandma

I LOST my maternal grandmother on Thursday September 22, 2016 and I have been asked to give a speech on behalf of all her grandchildren. 

My name is Kampa Senkwe and I am one of the grandsons to Ms Elina Mwale Zimba. I want to thank everyone in attendance. Thank you all for coming.

I would also like to extend my gratitude to my brothers and sisters who have accorded me this opportunity to speak on their behalf. I’m quite honored.

It is only earlier this month while I was chatting through WhatsApp with a good friend of mine Sishuwa Sishuwa from back home when he said something that really touched my heart. My fellow countryman said, “The relevance of death lies in its impact on those that live.”

Your attendance here speaks volumes about the impact that this wonderful woman had on all of us. Some of you knew Ms Elina Mwale Zimba as sister, mom, aunt, grandma, great grandma, amai Zimba, amake boi or simply Awasi Wrong.

I find it extremely hard to hold back tears as I put down these thoughts. Where does one even begin in paying a fitting tribute to someone they literally owe their life?

My first memory of my grandma goes as far back as the mid 80s. I briefly stayed with Gogo Elina and my late granddad Mr. Zimba (MHSRIP) at No. 43 Nalikwanda Street in Highridge, Kabwe.  I must have been 3 or 4 or at the time but I vividly remember one hot summer afternoon when grandma dressed up in readiness for her usual trips into the Central Business District.

I remember standing by the gate to our house while I watched her across the street as she waited for a bus to get her into town. I asked her to bring me something from town and she said okay “muzukulu wanga”. She was dressed in this flashy Chitenge wrapper and I thought she looked amazing.  Anyone who met my grandma in her hey days will tell you she was a beauty to behold. Grandma was really, really beautiful.

But grandmas beauty wasn’t just skin deep. Grandma was unbelievably compassionate, kind and generous. I was about 6 the last time I stayed at my grandparents’ home in Kabwe. I never got to see grandma until 10 years later in 1996 when she visited my mom’s family in Ndola. She stayed with us for two days and on the day she left she gave me a bottle of this expensive women’s fragrance. It’s been over 20 years but I can still remember the smell of that perfume. And now that I think of it, that was actually the first bottle of perfume I ever owned. I would safely say, grandma introduced me to the importance of smelling good.

Now, I don’t want to stand here and try to paint my grandma as an angel who was always fun to be around. I spent 5 years of my adult life with her in Kaunda Square when her house was still a two room and we had our moments.

It was only last week when I met my cousin Patricia here in South Africa. While I was chatting with Patricia our conversation turned to grandma. I remember Patricia giving me the props for staying with grandma for that long.

Yes, anyone who has ever lived with grandma will tell you she could be quite difficult at times. There were times it was impossible not to be mad at her. But in the 5 years I lived with grandma in Kaunda Square, I saw a part of grandma that some will never get to see. Grandma’s heart and generosity knew no bounds. Her door was always open- literally. She rarely locked the house. You could just walk in and people often did. Grandma’s neighbours, friends, church mates, immediate family, relatives including my own friends all knew they had a place to stay for a few minutes even a day or two to enjoy her hospitality. The door was always open and the food was always plenty.

In the five years I lived with grandma, she made me feel like I was her only grandchild. There was no single moment grandma made me feel like she never cared about me or wanted me around. There were time I felt the heavy burden of life and she would always encourage me and urge me to stay strong and to always believe in God.

When I left for my studies at the Copperbelt University, it was always a homecoming whenever I visited her during my vacations. She would show me off to her neighbours and beckon anyone she knew that passed by the road and introduce them to me. I will always cherish those moments.

Though I stand here to speak on behalf of her grandchildren, I’m aware each and every one of them have their own stories to tell about grandma. But speaking for myself, I would like to end by quoting the words of Maya Angelou who once said, 'I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.'

I want to say to grandma that thank you for making me feel special through and through. Thank you for being there for me. Thank you for those encouraging church hymns you used to sing to me when I was down. Thank you. Thank you. You will forever live in my heart.

As they say here in the South, Hamba Kahle Gogo Wami. I Love You!

Tupac Shakur: The Man, The Myth, The Legend

I REMEMBER on the evening of September 14, 1996 walking up to my friend George who lived next door and found him in the company of our friend Elisha. I also remember Elisha asking me whether I had heard about Tupac’s death. That’s how I got to find about Tupac.

Mobile phones had not reached this part of the world at the time and the Interne certainly wasn’t as popular as it is today. Also, a rap artist being killed hardly made it on the evening news in Zambia, so the good old word-of-mouth was how most people found out.

I can’t say the news hit me that hard. Of course I felt a little bit sad, but I wasn’t into Tupac let alone rap music back then. As a matter of fact I only came to learn about Tupac a year earlier when Elisha walked up to me one afternoon as I was listening to some Soukous music and handed me Tupac’s third studio album Me Against The World. I remember Elisha handing me a white cassette and urged me to put it in the cassette player. He said something to the effect “I want you to listen to this guy called Tupac. There is a song on this album called Dear Mama.”

I don’t know whether that was my first introduction to rap music, but I don’t remember listening to a rap song before that. Though Elisha wanted me to listen to “Dear Mama”, it was “So Many Tears” and “It Ain’t Easy” that I had an instant liking for. I felt the two songs really spoke to me in some way. So Many Tears remains to this day my all time favourite rap song.

I don’t think there is an artist dead or alive that has moved the way Tupac did. Though I rarely listen to rap music now, whenever I start to feel overwhelmed by the ugliness of the world I look to Tupac’s music and interviews. I really pity people who only remember this guy as a thug or gangster. They truly miss out on a brilliant intellectual individual.

In my opinion, there was nobody in the rap industry as good as Tupac. Tupac was all about his work which he did until he couldn’t. The man came from nothing. He created, stood on his two feet, fought, lost, picked himself up, all day every day. Every “Rap Star” after him owes him. He brought to the table rap music worth listening to.

On September 7, 1996, Tupac and his record label boss, Suge Knight left the Mike Tyson vs Bruce Seldon fight at MGM Grand Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada. Tupac sat in the passenger’s seat of Suge’s BMW when a white Cadillac with four occupants pulled alongside at the intersection of Flamingo Road and Koval Lane.

According to one witness, two men got out of the Cadillac and fired 13 rounds at the BMW from less than 13 feet away. Tupac was hit three times, one in the hip, another in his right hand with the fatal one hitting him in the chest while Suge escaped with minor injuries. The shooting occurred at 11:15 p.m. local time. Tupac was rushed to the University Medical Center.

On Friday, September 13, 1996, Tupac died after 6 days in critical condition. Tupac Shakur was pronounced dead at 4.03 p.m. His body was later cremated. He was only 25.

 There are many theories to Tupac's death; however there is a suspicion that it could have been the rivalry between the Westcoast and Eastcoast rappers.