Wednesday May 10, 1995: The Day I Became An Arsenal Fan

I STARTED following football, particularly English football in 1991. I was only 11 at the time and the first team that really captured by attention was Leeds United. I thought their striker Lee Chapman was amazing and I would stay every Friday night waiting for the sports show they called “English Soccer” on ZNBC.
When the show was taken off air, I don’t remember following any team in particular. But I remember following players like Roberto Baggio who was at Juventus at the time. I also found the Brazilian Bebeto quite skilled on the pitch. He used to play for Deportivo La Coruna. The other players I followed closely were the Dutch twins Frank & Ronald De Boer who were at Ajax. I also enjoyed watching Luis Enrique when he was at Real Madrid. And though I never liked Manchester United from the get go, that never stopped me from following Ryan Giggs.
With Roberto Baggio being my favourite player of all the players I used to follow back then (and still is), I was rooting for Italy during the 1994 World Cup and watching him miss the final penalty pierced my heart. That was the first time I remember feeling heartbroken over a soccer match.
The next time I ever went through emotions over a football match was the day I became an Arsenal fan. I was home watching the 1995 UEFA Cup Winners’ Cup Final between the holders Arsenal of England and Real Zaragoza of Spain. I found myself rooting for Arsenal. Those of you who are older enough will remember how dramatic that game ended. With seconds left before the final whistle in extra time and both teams tied at 1-all a player named Nahim, a former Tottenham midfielder scored  a spectacular 40-yard volley that sent Arsenal’s goalkeeper David Seaman crushing in the net.
The referee blew the final whistle before Real Zaragoza’s players ended their celebration. I remember watching Ian Wright cry his eyes out and I thought to myself, I want to support a team with players like that.
That match was played on Wednesday May 10, 1995.

Backstreet Boys Vs One Direction

THIS past weekend I attended a school function at an all-girls school where I overheard a couple of teenage girls talk about One Direction and how they are the greatest boy band of all time.

It reminded me of my teenage years and took me to a time when Backstreet Boys sat atop a musical dynasty as far as teen pop was concerned.

Now I have heard of One Direction here and there but I have never paid attention to them so I decided to check them out earlier today and find out why they are so popular among teenagers.

What I did was to first go back in time to remind myself of how 90s teen pop used to be. So I went on YouTube and watched Backstreet Boys’ “I Want It That Way”.

Do you know the first thing that became quite evident to me? I noticed girls where holding signs and pictures taken from magazines instead of their phones.  Men rocked mullets and wore checkered shirts, leather jackets and baggy pants.

After watching the Backstreet Boys video I picked a random 1 Direction video…“Best Song Ever”.

The first thing I noticed in the video?.. a transgender woman. Then I saw gay men acting like clowns… straight men in skinny jeans dancing with a transgender woman. And yeah, fans were holding phones.

I am not going to waste my time discussing who I think is better between Backstreet Boys and 1 Direction. But I will tell you this. Thank God my teenage years came and went within the 90s’ decade. 

The Undertaker's Last Ride

I HAVE not written about wrestling since April 7, 2014 when The Undertaker's 21–0 undefeated streak at WrestleMania came to an end with a loss to Brock Lesnar .

However, I have mentioned a couple of times that my days as a wrestling fan will officially be over when The Undertaker retires. Last night The Undertaker recorded his second loss at the grandest stage of them all to Roman Reigns in a No Holds Barred Match and placed his ring gear in the middle of the ring which can only be interpreted he had had his final match.

If The Undertaker has really retired then this is it for me. I have been a diehard wrestling fan since 1989 and The Phenom in my opinion is the last remaining wrestler from the days I religiously watched the product.

The Dead Man is arguably the greatest gimmick in the history of wrestling. No man has done a better job at turning what essentially is a ridiculous gimmick into a freaking legend. I don’t think there is any wrestler whose gimmick captivated fans for close to three decades. But what is even more amazing is the respect he commanded in and outside the ring. The Undertaker is not only respected by fans but by the entire locker room. I have never heard any wrestler be it new or old who has said anything bad about The Undertaker. And that is almost impossible in this business.

I am not going to lie. My heart hurts at The Undertaker’s retirement. And what hurts even more is that he had to be retired by Roman Reigns of all people. I have nothing against Reigns, but The Undertaker deserved to be retired by someone worthy.

Anyway, having been a fan of this man since I was barely a teen and having been there for from November 22, 1990 when he debuted in then WWF at Survivor Series to April 2, 2017, nothing has ever had that "End of an Era" feel for me like The Undertaker retiring.

For me, without The Undertaker, there is definitely no reason to continue watching this sport any more. The product has become quite stale in the last few years and I found myself struggling to watch some of the recent PPVs.

Most wrestling legends get a grand send-off when they retire, with speeches and lots of applause. I hope this won’t be the case with The Undertaker. He came as an enigma. He should leave like an enigma.

People say it all the time but this time it's true, there is no one like The Undertaker, and there never will be. Men like him come once in a lifetime.

Rest In Peace!

#ThankYouTaker

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.