THE PRESIDENT’S PATIENT – A REFLECTION II

I  know you have been wondering why it took me this long to update you; well this is what I remember since memory is weapon. I am unleashing it right now

DAY TWO: JULY 31 - First day of filming stars with music and dance. Now you know if there’s one thing that us Afrikans have as an advantage over everybody else it’s our ability to sing and dance over anything. We don’t need a beat since we got music in our DNA. Every single Afrikan you see infront of you can sing and dance; they may just be shy but tell them the key to their emancipation lies in them impressing a jury with their dance moves I swear to you everybody can do that and leave whites incarcerated. The late Busi Mhlongo once said, paraphrased by culture writer Bongani Madondo; “we were in church before we went to church”. I love that. We are born in worship and we worship with our body and voices!

So, this day starts with King Shaft, Mikhail and Sibusiso leading in song and dance outside our peach operations nerve centre in the heart of Newtown. The building stands proud like a penis on Viagra. There is singing and dancing as the technical crew is assembling equipment which we will need for the shoot. Apparently we will be shooting our first scene barely hundred metres away from here. The scene is the one when our radical young minister gets shot - not potshots but automaticed. I shudder to notice that I have made love on that street a million times; busted a million nuts but I hardly remember its name. I hope it is Henry Nxumalo Street. I loved Nxumalo so I hope this is his street. You know it, that one way main artery of Newtown that passes past Mary Fitzgerald Square.

The first scene we shoot involves the attempted assassination on a young radical minister who wants to change the way government has been doing things for the past eighteen years. The scene is about the actual shooting with an Uzi automatic and the bodyguards getting into the action. Our bodyguards are reaaaal huge.

The assassination attempt goes through without hiccups and our two heavies are real pros; in dark suits and pistols. Our minister is suave, played by Momelezi Ntshiba. The scene is wrapped as soon as it started and then we move to the assassins. On set we have some of the people whose call-up will be in about two hours such as Napo Masheane, Paul Mzaca and Thabo Monareng who will have to change into wardrobe soon and become the team investigating the crime.

First our assassins are having a field day with the 1973 Valiant that they chose for the hit. It’s surprising why these two hitmen, played by Mofenyi Malepe (Calvin) and Motlatsi Mahloko (Alexander) chose a vintage to take out a freshly minted politician. We take our time to shoot the scenes that involve Monde (Prince Twala) when he was going about his hoboic ways of writing people’s numberplates and being a nuisance.

It’s a logistical challenge for the crew members responsible for art and continuity as every little detail should be repeated over the five days that we will be shooting.

On the day we actually shoot too many scenes that when we finally audit them at the base camp we find that we managed to can nineteen, including the on-location investigation, interviews with eyewitnesses, parts of Monde’s life on the street and a scene that involves a confrontation with streetkids by first the assassins and then cop Lukas.

At the end of day one we all can say we have had a good start. As those who have made films before will tell you; the first and last day are always the most challenging. We await day two with anticipation.

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The President's Patient shoot in Jozi

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Shoot the Enemy; Not the Public!

Last Winter we were shooting a movie titled Cast The First Stone in and around Johannesburg. Being an under-funded local production meant we had to beg and borrow to access some crucial filming locations. One such location was the renowned Regina Mundi church in Soweto where a confession box scene was to be shot.

Cast The First Stone was a low budget Mzansi Magic production that explored the moral cost of forgiveness; a concept that is daily preached in Christendom. The film was, without sounding Calvinistic an undeserved free promo for the Catholic Church’s self-assumed role of mediating between God and the sinner. However, irrespective of such divine intentions; even places dedicated to God have to be paid for if utilised as film sets. Regina Mundi is a tourism destination.

That was forgiven because the Church Council did not demand to read the script which afforded us an opportunity to smuggle a knife in and record some crude dialogue that wouldn’t have made it past many church’s gatekeepers.

More scenes were filmed in Alexandra, CBD and private homes which were offered to be converted to movie sets. But the support that failed to materialise was that of the SAPS.

According to an ambiguous security regulation; filmmakers are not allowed to impersonate police officers and dress actors in SAPS uniforms – even if that’s supplied by wardrobe. They are not allowed to temporarily brand vehicles in the insignia of the SAPS. What filmmakers should do is request SAPS to provide required props (wardrobe included) to create the right ambience.

That was the undoing. Producer/Director Shaft Moropane spent countless months being sent from pillar to post by SAPS in Gauteng about whether they will make a showing. A showing meant providing an interrogation room; optionally providing a consultant who will advise on protocol during filming. It also meant providing those token cops who will be in uniform so that when our actor/detective tries to pick a needle in a haystack viewers can see some extras fiddling with a police sedan or van.

It also meant permission to take an establishing shot of a police station in Alexandra, the two flags, cars parked on the driveway and cop traffic. That took months of waiting for a simple ‘red’ stamp that never transpired. We started wondering if those films we saw with SAPS co-operation had someone bribing their way past the red tape.

This is the undoing of South African filmmakers; they hardly get co-operation from government. I remember seeing a beautifully made television series titled Homeland in the 1990s which was exploring SADF’s cross border raids. The series, according to the producers did not get any government backing, either technical or infrastructure since they required a Puma helicopter and coaching to portray how Special Forces carried out their missions. I thought I understood because the series was shot in early-‘90s and the Government of National Unity had reasons to conceal some of these activities since the Truth and Reconciliation Commission had not yet happened.

However when it becomes impossible in a democracy to get state backing and assistance to tell South African stories one starts to wonder whether there is any will to grow this industry in South Africa?

In the United States there is a Department of Defence Hollywood liaison office whereby studios can facilitate Pentagon technical support; from access to multi-billion dollar military hardware and free consultancy including permission to film at key government installations. You don’t get that in South Africa and that’s a concept killer for a talented filmmaker trying to make an independent project in a province like Mpumalanga which does not even have a film office.

The night we wrapped Cast the First Stone we were driving around Sophiatown when we were twice stopped by police wanting to search our car ‘for guns’, “because people have been using guns to shoot at cops and shit”, that’s what the dramatic constable said. And I thought, ‘here is an animated cop we could have used as an extra’; but his co-operation is bogged down by Lieutenant-Generals in ivory towers.

And then our cinematographer told me they experienced the same let down before and were annoyed when after they wrapped they bumped into a police road block where the cops demanded they open the film case. “We told them they better arrest us because we can’t allow our rushes to be exposed and ruin the project”, Mike Sono remembered.

Maybe as a measure to grow the industry a liaison office to facilitate a relationship between government and filmmakers should be set at provincial Arts and Culture offices instead of dealing with a police force that seems not to understand the tourism value of the country as a filmmaking destination.


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Killing Afghan Culture – America Needs a Women President

When i was young and growing up my ideal holiday destination used to be the United States of America. The Empire State Building, Disneyland, Golden Gate Bridge etc. I wanted it all and to me that Land of the Free symbolised everything that was right with human existence.

And then i grew up and noticed that it was actually more difficult to enter the US and witness for self the majesty of those iconic landmarks. They try to stop you from entering by asking you how much you have in your....wait for it... account. That is not all; they also want to know whether you have a credit card or not. Well, unless i’m grossly mistaken the majority of the credit card companies are actually American. So, they want to know how much business are you doing with them.

I’m not going to touch on how impossible it has been since 9/11 but my point is to question who is America to preach civil rights to the world?

I was recently watching a documentary on Al Jazeera English about how American NGOs and advocacy groups are trying to change Afghanistan and uplift women to equality. They got to Afghanistan, found women wearing veils and subordinate to their men and not working on television or aspiring for political leadership.

America told them that they can work on television; the idea is to get US companies business in the television business in Afghanistan. Now, those old age cultured women started seeing themselves as Barbara Walters and while that irked the bearded men of the East, it should be understood in the context of culture.

Their culture, age old and celebrated accorded Afghan women a space where they could be in charge and make an impact in society. Truth be told; Afghan women haven’t been always sitting cooking in kitchens before Americans invaded that country. That’s what the US media is trying to sell to the world and that’s a narrative that should be countered with information sourced from thousands of cultural books and literature that are today being cleansed from Afghan’s literary landscape. The first practise of colonists is to destroy everything that will remind you of your own greatness so as to buy into a narrative that they brought you civilization – Western civilisation.

Americans have managed to convince a small educated Afghan elite that they should aspire to take over political power and that with American funding they can achieve that. They are not interested in those women’s welfare or political clout but to undermine the Taliban narrative.

The only reason America wants to elevate Afghan women is to undermine Afghan culture and its civilisation. And while those bearded men who kill women for trying to go to school might claim to be upholding honour – the truth is that the only way to triumph over a bad idea is to bring to the fore a better idea. And killing people is as ugly as killing a people’s culture.

And America; well it can promise those women the possibility of being presidents when America itself with all its talk of an equal opportunity society and a democracy to be envied has never had a woman president in its two centuries history. Makes you think doesn’t it?

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Get the Hell out of here Brown Dash!


The easiest thing to do in this time of uncertainty is to hide our heads in the sand and pretend that this so-called ‘long illness’ does not exist. It is to pretend that people who die of this ‘long illness’ are saints who; some of them didn’t go all out to infect others with this illness.

I had a conversation with a friend this morning who asked me if i was distraught that ‘my friend’ died. I asked who that friend was and he said Siphiwe ‘Brown Dash’ Mpamile. I know he was joking because Dash was never my friend even though I met and interacted with him once during a Reconciliation Day event in 2006. A fit healthy Dash still marvelling in the hype created by Phansi Kwe’ mthunzi we langa.

Dash was everything young kids would have wanted to be. I’m not certain if he was single but he came across to me as having a roving eye. However, roving eyes don’t kill people since they are not a ‘long illness’. But the mishap is that roving eyes can’t see the ‘long illness’. The so code-named illness that continues to claim young people in our country. It is Stephen King’s It.

Former minister of COGTA Sicelo Shiceka died a week ago after a ‘long illness’ and nobody is prepared to disclose the name of the illness even though as taxpayers we paid thousands into his medical bill. We don’t care much because to a larger extent we know what the ‘long illness’ is. We might be dodgy about calling it by its name; which is actually the first wisdom but we can count its fatalities and dare those who survive them and feel aggrieved to sue us; armed with proof of something contrary to our assertion.

I hear that the unnamed ‘long illness’ killed Sizwe Motaung (soccer), Khabzela (DJ), Zombo (musician), Sicelo (politician), Parks Mankahlana (Nelson Mandela’s spokesperson), Peter Mokaba (politician), Zodwa Khoza (business executive), Freddie Mercury (musician), Eazy E (musician), Makgatho Mandela (business executive), Dash (musician), Thabang Lebese (soccer) and many others whose names keep slipping our memory. It is unnamed and that might be the reason why it’s so strong.

However i was annoyed by those who on Facebook tried to sugar coat the kind of celebrity behaviour that often leads to people dying of ‘long illnesses’. I am not moralising but like i told my friend this morning; there are many people who get infected by this ‘long illness’ but continue to live for many years. I told my friend those who get infected and rush to the morgue are usually the types who say ‘ya, i was infected by these bitches and i’m going to infect as many as possible before i die’.

I think Dash represented everything that adversary races have accused Black men of being and something that many men have down the years died trying to prove that we are not; reckless, sexually charged, self-hating and most likely to point the gun in our hands at the next Black person.

Sonsofbitches risk reinfection and do not understand that the causes of the ‘long illness’ are not footprints which you leave everytime you walk on the desert. With your worst intention you can fail to leave a drop of the cause on your victim. This ‘kudla bantwana’ lifestyle is the undoing of many so-called pop icons (sport and music).

So, while the rest of the country is prepared to bury their head in the sand; pretend that they couldn’t see Dash was dying when he performed with Spikiri at the SAMAs two weeks ago and will act surprised when they read the tabloids in the coming days I refuse to join the mob.

I don’t condemn anyone because in an ‘unrelated’ article years ago Marianne Thamm wrote about socialite Adam Levin (AIDS Safari) and Khabzela (Yfm); to paraphrase her, “promiscuity does not cause AIDS, it’s sex without a condom that causes AIDS”. So if we are going to behave like pop stars and chow groupies at backstage let us at least put that Jimmy on the dick and we can chow the chicks until chickens (no pun intended) come home to roost.

Hamba Dash! Say hi to Khabzela, Zombo, Sizwe and Chillies

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Sistas with BIG Egos – Parenting 101

Now my business is not griping but I think so-called celebrities should strive to build own brands that do not rely on human props to suffice. I was terribly offended when i saw the covers of Real and Soul magazines featuring two women whose claim to ‘celebritica’ still beats me. I mean these are just two ladies who have day jobs like the rest of society but when does that make them ‘celebrities’ evades my reasoning.

These two are Dineo Ranaka and Kelly Khumalo. Well, i know Dineo used to work for Yfm and even tried her hand at acting with dismal consequences. She even claims; due to her television work to being a DJ. Her real claim to fame is allegedly dating swagjacker Kenny Kunene. Now, that’s her, not her child.

Now, regardless of this being Mother’s month i struggle to understand why she has to subject her child to the limelight at a time when there is more money from kidnapping children for ransom than working your butt off. Real celebrities don’t expose their children in the media but try hard to keep them as far as possible since like their cars and houses; their children are not an extension of their brand.

Real and Soul magazines really outdid themselves this time. When trying to understand the justification Kelly should pose with her son i always end up with zilch. I mean it is gross enough that she has pierced the young boy’s ears and fitted earrings already without its permission but to go further and plaster the poor boy on the cover of a gloss is just not on.

I probably am old-fashioned and believe that only daughters should be involuntarily pierced. But boys? No ways – not even when your father is Jub-Jub.

This brings me to the point behind this post which is child abuse and media exploitation of ‘black girls’’ naivety. Both magazines do not give two hoots about the welfare of those kids or their self-declared ‘celebrity’ mothers. They are just milking them for whatever they claim to be worth. However those two boys smiling for the cameras infront of those magazines to brush mommy’s egos and at her whim is grotesque. To me it was as sickening as some version of porn.

Plus all those kids on parents’ Facebook profiles make me wanna puke. Respect children’s right to privacy and to be raised in an environment that allows their development without a sick and callous world counting their every step.

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PREVIEW

Bushbuckridge Unleashes - Slang G The Don

The name that his parents gave him is Eben Mkhabela and in hip hop circles; where you must have a fancy name to play the game he’s known as Slang G Da Don. The twenty years old rapper has been gracing the Luv Ur Hood hip hop session scene for some time now. His long participation in hip hop has produced a couple of never-heard-before songs; a couple of never-heard-before music videos mostly shot and directed by Mahlatse ‘Ndbas’ Ndabandaba. Those artworks still await their opportunity to be seen by the world – that’s if the world cares enough to go in search of work inspired by hunger and passion.

Slang G, like tens of other influencial artists and movers-plus-shakers comes from that hustler’s nightmare called Bushbuckridge. Please don’t be misled; Bushbuckridge is not a town but a whole tens of square kilometres that gave the world AB Crazy (though he loves to protest this), Shaft Moropane, Nkoto Malebye, Identicals etc. Talent oozes from this community’s reservoir like oil in Saudi Arabia. If talent was tradable at most Currency Exchanges; Bushbuckridge will be experiencing a US-funded civil war. However Slang is currently grinding in Pretoria where he is studying  and continuing where he left off in Bushbuckridge – making music. “I have always been in music from a very early age; I used to rap @ school with friends during lunch breaks as well as at home. I get my inspiration from listening to a lot of music from both local and international musicians such as Pro, Proverb, Kwesta, Teargas, Jay-Z and Kanye West just to name a few” he told Kasiekulture.

Being intimate with the Luv Ur Hood brand which was founded by Hlompho ‘Masta H’ Lekhuleni (Mapulaneng Mixtape Volume One) and Khutso ‘Katsuko’ Malele has afforded Slang G the opportunity to work with a number of great artists;  producers and dancers like WildKats, T-Master, Dobby, Matt from Radio Bushbuckridge, DND, EMAN and many others. “I have chosen to title my upcoming mixtape the EPIC MIXTAPE. I truly believe it’s going to be epic album since I put a lot of hard work into it and hope this will show in the way people respond to it” he says.

A single from the mixtape is currently available on Facebook, Soundcloud and also MP3tweet. The killer song currently on cyberspace rotation is called So FLY featuring Dobby from Pretoria. The song will soon have a BAIDA WEAR sponsored video preceding its viral success. “I want to work with a long list of artists from Mpumalanga especially Bushbuckridge people like Hasta H, Chirs KILLA, KHONGZ, TBOY, 012SOUTH and many others. I believe in Mpumalanga can take over the industry if we work togather and stay focused. I am willing to collaborate with different people from all over the province and I want our music to grow” Slang G says with finality

People can get hold of Slang G by emailing ebeneazy@gmail.com on Facebook as  Eben Eazy or my fanpage Slang G as well as twitter @EbenEazy.  

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OPINION

Not in my name Uncle Kofi (not coffee)

Kofi Annan, the flamboyant former Ghanaian diplomat who became a United Nations SG (Scapegoat according to former Iraqi PM Tariq Aziz or Secretary General according to the world) has developed an annoying habit of thinking that what old puppets should do is to rush back to their master and beg for a new gimmick to stay relevant. The world is a circus with one puppet master and many puppets in a hall called the UN General Assembly. I am a Black man who some hidden common sense would suggest I should be happy that a man from my continent (and the first Afrikan country to experience Uhuru) is trusted by both the UN and Arab League to solve an intricate human rights stalemate in Syria.

Now I need to put my cards on the table and confess that I have the same little faith in Annan as I had in Nelson Mandela throughout his reign and even now. I think the old man was given a statue in Sandton as a reminder of what he will never have. Uncle Kofi will get his at the UN someday.

Annan, those closer to history will remember was the chief of UN Peacekeeping Operations in 1994 as South Afrikans queued to cast their first democratic vote; a vote delayed over many decades by the United States vetoeing resolutions brought before the UN Security Council for apartheid to end. In 1994 while the southern tip of Afrika was in a jovial mood Annan was busy blocking efforts to reign in on the genocide that was taking place in Rwanda. With him on the corner was US President Bill Clinton who looked the other way when peace activists demanded that the US jam radio communication in the tiny Afrikan country since that medium was used to spread hate and call for murder. And some people dare call Clinton the first Black president - please!

Annan, regardless of numerous demands by the small UN Peacekeeping force led by a Canadian military commander to send reinforcements acted passive - leaving the final decision to the Security Council of an organisation so misrepresenting of Afrika's reality that it just couldn't be helpful. That apathy resulted in the death of one million Afrikans in at least 100 days. Okay, that's ten thousand a day; or at least 416 Afrikan souls an hour. Annan stood while a reporter from New York Times wrote that he was happy his ancestors made it out of Afrika during the slave trade because the butchery he was seeing in his 'motherland' was excessive. His article was titled Out of Africa - as a metaphor to Sorius Samura's documentary on the Sierra Leone.

The reporter recounted standing at a bridge in Kigali and seeing piles of bloated corpses washing down the river limbless; or machete-bitten. He remembered thinking he could have been one of those corpses if his ancestors were not shipped off to the 'Free World' to help build America.

And then the same flawed Afrikan went on to become the SG of a body which's Peacekeeping Operations he failed and had one million corpses to show. He became the UN Chief becasue the United States and its friends wanted him there after another crony Afrikan (or Arab) Boutros Boutros Ghali had failed Afrika and Palestinians dismally. How else to thank a sell-out Afrikan if not by elevating him to a position where he has absolute diplomatic immunity anywhere in the world - including his native Afrika. During his tenure Annan stifled the voices of Third World countries at the UN by pretending to be neutral while his position allowed him the leverage to provide political guidance to the world body. His vision for the organisation was always at loggerheads with what our then President Thabo Mbeki envisaged for Africa; a self-sufficient continent with mechanisms to solve its own socio-economic and geo-political problems. Mbeki envisaged a permanent Afrikan peace-solving tool such as the current day-Trioka, an Afrikan stand-by force for deployment to trouble hotspots such as Somalia and an approach to Africa's development that was not about the giver and receiver but building the internal capacity of Afrika to stand on its own feet, feed its own people and defend its borders and integrity.

Mbeki felt that the first stop towards achieving that would be for the UN Security Council to transform to the point whereby Afrika has two rotating (at the discretion of the AU) permanent seats at the Security Council. This would have been useful in ensuring that France does not conduct bombing adventures in its former colonies whenever if feels its version of 'civilisation' is threatened. Such a step would have required a UN Security Council vote which Afrika, advised by African Union would have vetoed and resorted to Afrikan solutions. Annan never took that to heart; he felt that the way the UN was, which is how it was in 1945 is fine. He shied away from curbing the growing influence of Muammar Gaddafi in North Africa since such a arrogance was funded in England and beneficial to the West.

Due to Uncle Kofi being in New York for sightseeing purposes today five countries decide who should be attacked and none of those countries is in Afrika or South America. Now, after his stint frustrating Mbeki, Olusegun Obasanjo and Abdel Aziz Bouteflika he came back home to a continent still suffering from an esteem problem. Here we were prepared to forget that his son was implicated in the Oil For Food programme; a capitalist-sanctioned Ponzi which resulted in the deaths of thousands of Iraqi children as sanctions meant for the regime resulted in the deaths of civilians while Anna watched. Lots of Annan's friends made millions of dollars out of the programme while Nato conducted regular bombing raids in the two no-fly zones in the North and South of Iraq.

He arrived home and suddenly Kenya exploded and given his unquestionable 'clout' the AU deployed him to Nairobi to mediate the ethnic-fueled conflict. Actually, with the benefit of hindsight Annan failed to understand the complexities of the situation. His version of compromise required a constitutional amendment; which means he couldn't find solutions within the democratic constitutional order that is Kenya. The land of Kenyatta was suddenly burdened with a Prime Minister and a President; a bloated cabinet and more money for the bureaucracy.

I would like to delve into his current role as an UN-Arab League mediator in Syria. Funny enough, as they appointed him and gave him his terms of reference; including his paycheque Annan didn't ask them why he was not relevant a year ago when there was equal carnage in Libya? There is a massacre in Afrika, they don't deploy an Afrikan to mediate but when there is a civil war in Arabia they send an Afrikan to extinguish the flame. There's something that is dodgy about the fact that Arabs (the original slave-takers) always need someone from outside to solve their problems which a third of the time are actually caused by the US. Can you start to imagine that the Israeli-Palestinian stalemate was once mediated by George Mitchell and then Tony Blair; all from the West. It should make one wonder if there's no smart diplomat in one of the Arab countries who understand the area, the culture and the politics better to bring both adversaries in the region to the table.

Now, Uncle Kofi takes the poisoned chalice and runs to Damascus to meet a man who inherited power from his father (Hafez passed over the baton to Bashir). He thinks he has the respect of China and Russia who he alienated many times as UN head. He thinks those 'rebels', armed and trained by Saudi Arabia and Qatar will respect him while their budget of $1 million a day 'to fight' Al Assad will disappear if they cease fire. He thinks that his trip to Tehran, which is something the US probably told him to do will shift the balance of power on the streets of Aleppo, Idlib, Homs, Hama, Damascus and others. He goes to Iran on the deadline of the cessation of hostilities so that he can provide the US with enough fodder to say 'indeed we were right that Iran is responsible for the carnage'.

Unce Kofi should know that he is not representing any Afrikan as he criss-crosses the world as a pawn of the US, Britain and France. He should know that his mission is doomed to fail because Israel does not want the regime of Assad to fall and be replaced by Islamists who will be sympathetic to Hamas and Fatah. He should know that the so-called Free Syrian Army is a bunch of individuals who some are not even defectors but Mujahideen who were based in Northern Lebanon and Turkey.

I look at Uncle Kofi with the same prism as that of Mandela. The old man was obviously overrated because he didn't tip the status quo when he came to power in 1994. He was loved because what we fought for for many years will never be achieved. He was probably fighting for something different to what we were all fighting for. Eighteen years later we are still fighting for economic freedom, which is an ideal Mandela signed off during the CODESA negotiation and concealed in the controversial Sunset Clauses. So, instead of obsessing with Arabia, Kofi like Mandela should remember that whatever 'achievement' he notches he will never be mentioned in the same breath as Marcus Garvey, Franz Fanon, Julius Mualimu Nyerere, Robert Mugabe, Agosthino Neto, Patrice Lumumba, Samuel Nujoma, Dr Martin Luther King Jr, Malcolm X, Steve Biko, King Shakal, Thabo Mbeki etc. He will always be remembered as the man who babysat the genocide of one million Afrikans; sugar-coated an ethnic genocide in Kenya, blocked the transformation of the UN, monitored the removal of Jean Bertrand Aristide in Haiti, the poisoning of Yasser Arafat, the suffocation of the Palestinian population etc.

To Uncle Kofi, there's more trouble in Afrika than the Middle East; leave that mess to those who caused it. Mali awaits at home!

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REVIEW

Luv Ur Hood -Easter 2012

While some people were lounging in familiar spaces (such as 606, Valencia, Civilize etc) getting sloshed, chatting under-age girls and lying to each other about how much they have in their banks and what car they will be driving in Summer the Luv Ur Hood bunch (Khutso 'Katsuko' Malele and Hlompho 'Masta H' Lekhuleni) was out at Kabila's Car Wash doing what they do best - hook up a tight show irrespective of the limitations of bad sound and an incoherent line-up - actually rag-tag. Like they say in other countries, 'even without you (Whitney Houston) the show must go on'.

And go on it did; opening as usual with the anthem 'Batho ba a shota' which gets Mr Doo on his element. This comical emcee was this day flipping the coin with a huge wall clock strapped around his neck. He lapped the stage and delved deep into his Sepulana and Xitsonga delivery that pokes fun at other rappers - alive and dead. The line I love with passion is when he says 'rappers masturbate with Rama'. Hahahaha, you should have heard how he got the whole crowd eating out of his palm.

But Do is a drop in an deep ocean made up of different sets, such as those from Thulamahashe (C-Well, Tazzy Taz, PLZNT etc). Some enthusiasts awaited a performance by another Thulas cat called SK but true to the hustler culture of the ghetto he was nowhere to be seen - gathering cash somewhere in this vast region of Bushbuckridge. I however spotted Spotja, Junia and Gazzolin. Spotja dropped a few lines during the freestyle stage together with another rythmatic emcee whose participation only ended there. Junia was strolling around like a Don let loose in the Carribean and never bothered to sing.

Masta H and KFB also took to the stage. KFB flamed the mike with two songs that come ripped straight from the streets. For a change it was refreshing to hear him go beyond his beat influenced freestyles and rapping something one can tell was scripted, edited and delivered with love for the game and fans. Whoever makes KFB's music truly understands his sound - playalistic and suave. KFB knows how to play on the beat as one can hear him on the Mapulaneng Mixtape's 1,2,3 Mabhebeza; together with Young K-Cee.

Speaking of Young K-Cee, he has matured since the days of his novice primary school lines reminiscent of everything despised about the Dirty South. Even though his delivery is tight he needs to evolve beyond rythming about stuff he loves (money), stuff he is (sickest kid emcee) and stuff he wants to be (Young Moolah). This young emcee must broaden his vocabulary and start using other people's experience to inform his lyrics. Hearing someone singing about mohawks and skinny jeans can't make for an interesting album. Young K-Cee the Kid needs serious mentorship; which he might get from his cousin Masta H.

Masta H was at his element. Actually it should be a conflict of interest for me to write about H since I also manage him. But as a fan his delivery is always on point. My judgment of his maturity goes beyond just the songs he performed, which come from his Mapulaneng Mixtape but also a song he recently recorded with J.O.P, where the hook is an intoxicating classical piece by Sabs (Masaba). It's a wedding song that can hold its own in the august halls of Italy alongsinde Placido Domingo and Jose Carerra.

Bushbuckridge was represented by its dons, the gothic crew that drinks and smokes like nobody's business and have scary rythmes that can get a coward shying away from College View, Maviljan and other town's outskirts. Even in the absence of Android the crew still held it down. These dudes need to have a mixtape and market it hard. The streets are waiting.

Obviously Katsuko was there too, threatening to rap and only doing it impoptu. Surely being an emcee is not the easiest role one can play. Familiar faces such as Sparkle, Dialectic (who dropped a verse or two), Adorn the Poet (who was manning the Luv Ur Hood merchandise stand), Black Pearl (who was expected to perform but didn't), Software (hmmmmm) and many more. Luv Ur Hood Easter rocked and they are planning another one for Youth Day! Ayeye!

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