THE SATURDAY COLUMN: A tale of two Jay-Zs…A drunken mosquito and the cold tits of a witch Brian Nichols

Jay-Z at Us Embassy, Harare
Staff at the United States Embassy in Harare are amazing. When Brian Nichols joined them as ambassador, whispers manifested into a sobriquet. With a chubby elongated face, a resonant American accent not befitting a black man and priming pride, Nichols aptly earned the epithet Jay-Z, after the popular American hip-hop rapper, whom he looks alike. And, indeed since Jay-Z’s arrival in Harare, it has been a roller-coaster of dry jokes, gangsterism and thoughtless political discretion.

Don’t get lost, am no racist, Cde, Jay-Z is Jay-Z, he’s gotta do what he gonna do, man. Noise! Donald Trump gifted us entertainment. It is entertainment galore at the embassy.

Notwithstanding the skin colour and similar facials, the two Jay-Zs have same attitude and attributes. Support gay rights and losing political candidates. Love for violence, participate and deny it. The hallmark of thuggery. The deception, and zeal, the same. Gangsterism!

Imagine this; on December 1, 1999, Jay-Z, the rapper who had come to believe that record executive Lance Rivera  was behind the bootlegging of Vol. 3 . . ., stabbed Rivera at the release party for Q-Tip’s album “Amplified” at the Kit Kat Klub, a now-defunct nightclub in Times Square, New York City.

Jay-Z’s associates at the party caused commotion within the club, which Jay-Z used as cover up when he stabbed Rivera in the stomach with a 127 mm blade. Arrested and released on US$50,000 bail, was indicted in Manhattan Criminal Court in late January 2000, he pleaded not guilty. Nevertheless, he later pleaded guilty to third-degree assault and accepted a three-year probation sentence.

In the 2016 US presidential election, Jay-Z and wife Beyoncé supported losing presidential candidate Hillary Clinton at her rally in Cleveland. Clinton praised Jay-Z for addressing racism, oppression and the criminal justice system.

Fast forward to Harare today. What with our own Jay-Z incarnate, Nichols sinking in the MDC trenches, nose, chubby face and body? Helping them provoke the Government, burn and loot shops and property, then protect them. Turn villains into heroes. Rename looters, criminals and thugs as defenders of human rights. My foot!

Nichols’ support for violence in Zimbabwe is brazen, his summative contribution to anarchy and lawlessness ugly. His attitude towards the rule of law as cold as the tits of a witch.  His support for losing MDC-Alliance is telling. With the regime change agenda tilting his balance of thought, Nichols is in a class of his own. Hallucinating about regime change.

His miniscule thought process never informing that America has no business meddling in Zimbabwe’s bilateral stand-off with its former colonizer, Britain. And, what with Britain warming up to Zimbabwe? What with rejoining Commonwealth beckoning? Is it not tantamount to an outsider mourning more than the bereaved?

Pushed by the new US Africa Policy, seeking to get preferential treatment on trade and investment in Africa ahead of China and Russia, Jay-Z incarnate is excited; too excited, excited like a little boy who has just received a new toy. Russia and China have stood by Zimbabwe through thick and thin. They are good friends and so, Zimbabwe should be punished for it? Fetid!

Where rogue Christopher Dell, failed Jay-Z thinks he can win. Where Charles Ray failed, Jay-Z thinks he can win. But Zimbabwe will always be Zimbabwe. The excitement will soon die. Better concentrate on music than regime change. Better concentrate on hip-hop lyrics than hand-hold MDC- Alliance into an abyss of whimscal nothing. Better work on removal of sanctions than promoting them.  The Zanu-PF Government is complicated and experienced. Like others who came before him, Jay-Z will go back to US, disappointed. Very, very, very disappointed.

Woe drunk Mosquito goes pound for pound with demons
As we sit in our neutral corner we wait to see where the decision goes between the once-famed pugilist of our time, and the demons that have challenged him to the ring. He hasn’t done much in our estimation in the opening round, like he used to do, when he was really a stinging Mosquito, what with him kissing the canvas many a time before rising at the ninth count, with demons mercilessly punching him blind below the belt. Dazzling him, even. We fear he might throw in the towel, seeing he is punch drunk; a punch bag.

With gibbon agility and lightning speed, Alfonso Zvenyika Lambarda used to circle his opponents and sting them with his seemingly weak, but powerful jabs, which earned him the moniker Mosquito. In his heyday in the 1990s and 2000s, the pencil-slim professional fly/super fly/bantam/super-bantamweight boxer used to awe the ghetto, not only because of his trade, which he had perfected to book, but through the moolah that came with it, and boy how he generously dished it out, especially to the fairer sex. To those in the dark, well not total darkness, though, Mosquito won the Zimbabwe super flyweight, African Zone 6 flyweight and Commonwealth light-flyweight titles, with a career record of 17 wins (10 KOs), 12 losses and two draws.

Afonso Zvenyika alias Mosquito

Trading punches was his business, now devoid of anything to trade, having acquired no other skills, Mosquito is an easy customer for woes, nay poverty. Wearing hideous gloves, demons have come to haunt the “has-been” with uppercuts, left jabs and right hooks, dazzling and knocking him senseless. In his own admission, he used to have the dough, and he “invested” it in the forbidden fruit, leading to the germination of nine seeds from different pods.

Now the seeds have joined forces with anarchical woes to set base in the ring of his abode, and knock him out for wizardry, claiming that his boxing paraphernalia is dooming them to perpetual poverty and ill luck.

It is curious, really curious, for Mosquito to claim bankruptcy, now that he cannot withdraw from his fruity deposits. Now soapy depleted, he shares a three-roomed family house in Mbare with 14 others — his brother and family, his wife, eight children and some grandchildren. Electricity and power supplies have been disconnected for non-payment of bills.

Mosquito has sent an SOS signal to be bailed out from the pursuant demons, and hold it here, gentle reader, he used his wife and daughter’s numbers as conduits, and his woes have since mounted. Now the rich ones are telling the wife to monetise her forbidden fruit. They want to splash money on her, being a gem of creation. Suffice to say, the Mosquito in a typical village fix. In the village, a man with a fruit tree by the roadside and one with the most beautiful wife share the same problem; every passerby wants to taste.

And, we know that Mosquito’s wife is young and beautiful, and his daughters are ripe and potentially succulent. He has to keep his gloves on, but we know who will fall to the ropes; beauty and fairness aren’t friends with poverty. We remember that the parasitic yesteryear boxing wonder extended a polished begging dish to Sekuru Banda, and he was given groceries and pledges for an academy. But we are aware that Mosquito and his progenies are not imbeciles, neither are they incapacitated, nor charity cases; their woes are rooted in the gouging of fruity juices from forbidden gardens.

Another curious thing is that none of Mosquito’s nine children has a birth certificate, because their mothers had no birth certificates, either.  The pugilist’s father was of Mozambican descent, and his mother of Malawian parentage, and gosh, he can only attract women without “papers”. It is a spooky world we live in, and the Mudzviti looks the other way when generations are recorded as having never been born, and, therefore, will never die. One of his fruits, now a tout at Tenda Buses, is an equally skilled boxer but with no national ID, and as good as livestock. He cannot fight professionally. Poor Mosquito!

Chamisa’s spokesperson, perfect example of educated idiocy
Admittedly, every village has its own fool. But, we worry, and justifiably so, when the whole village dabbles in tomfoolery. The MDC-Alliance village has more fools than sane people. We shudder to think it is disease but it is quite shocking. MDC-Alliance wants to burn Zimbabwe into ashes all in a bid to gain power. The madness is telling and that they are horny with power is not questionable. MDC-Alliance presidential spokesperson Dr Nkululeko Sibanda is as mad as his colleagues; he does not want even world celebrities to visit the Victoria Falls, the fear, a fear wrapped in idiocy being that they will trully tell the world how beautiful and peaceful Zimbabwe is.

We are not a people of yesterday! You see, we have been around long enough to tell stupidity and baboonery from intelligence. Concerning bookish knowledge, we believe that most people do not, and cannot go beyond the signatures certifying the acquisition of these so-called degree certificates.

Nkululeko Sibanda

It is sad, very sad, that university degrees have been overrated, what with every Jack and Jill now carrying the title Dr or Professor before their names, and insisting on being called such. Yet, one only needs to wait for them to open their mouths or scribble nonsense on paper or any other platform to affirm that our forefathers were, indeed, more learned than these Western-educated idiots.

One of such puffed up intelligence masquerades, confirming the stink of Western forms of education is Sibanda, who, curiously, holds a doctorate degree, and describes himself as “a multidisciplinary thinker in politics, paleontology, sociology, metaphysics and scientific methods”; whatever that mouthful means, it stinks of brainlessness. We have always known that being educated does not mean that one is learned. There are a lot of ignorant higher degree holders, whose stupidity, like that of Nkululeko Sibanda, is a silent fart that soon announces itself through smell. It refuses to be concealed.

Honestly, how can one hate his own country to such an extent as to find stink in every nook? We know whose nostrils he uses to detect smell, for he is a hound for the West, but now that the stink is on him, the other dogs are on him. He has to be schooled on the concept of celebrity host and perception management. The Zimbabwe Tourism Authority needs to school him. The fact that Zimbabwe is great destination for tourists remains, no matter how loud Chamisa’s spokesperson whimpers, for he remains who he is, the West’s foxhound, and a perfect example of educated idiocy. Plain stupid!

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