Reggae great dies

Having had a late training in the school of hard knocks, I now know that you have to always tie up the loose ends. Failure of which, one day, when things go horribly wrong, as they inevitably will in line with the dictates of life’s rich tapestry, you will then realise how a seemingly small neglected thing becomes important.
The valuable lesson is that nothing is what it seems. The world is a stage full of actors. This is not just another old wives’ tale. It is a brutal fact. And that is precisely why one should never trust anyone.
Sadly, that is a lesson I for one learnt too little too late, in the hardest of the way and at an incalculable cost to my close-knit family. But with divine grace we will pull through. 
Enough of playing the role of the uneducated philosopher or the annoying Bible-thumper. The most important thing is that as promised three weeks ago, I am back.
Mic Inity
A confessed culture vulture, I spent the last two weeks sampling the Zimbabwe dancehall scene.  And reggae is happening.  But it’s bigger and better in Harare, the home of the good, the bad, the amusing and the very ugly. 
On Wednesday I went to the Mannenberg among other reggae joints in and around the capital.
Mike Madamombe, Mic Inity to his legion of followers was jamming. He is the main attraction at this joint every Wednesday. I have been around. And I am experienced enough to know a great artiste in the making when I see one.
In my humble opinion, the versatile Mic Inity is one of the few in the short line of Zimbabwe’s dancehall greats who will soon be seeing his name in lights. He is young but his voice has a seasoned authority.
His performance captured my imagination and took me down memory lane especially when he did some Beres Hammond tunes. Taking a fleeting glance down the corridor of time felt so good. It brought back fresh memories of the good old days when I used to listen to Groove A Little Ting, and Settling Down both by Beres Hammond and of course Thrilla U’s Memories. This was during the romance of courtship when my one and only was served a scrumptious reggae diet to which she is now addicted. 
And when he did Substitute in a slow-stepping skank typical of the original singer Gregory Isaacs, Inity coaxed a rapturous response from the packed dancehall teeming with humanity. It was such an amazing performance. He literally had the ladies in the palm of his hand.
What’s more, the ladies tripped the light fantastic. To the uninitiated, this is an expression I borrowed from Zimbabwe’s avant-garde writer, Dambudzo Mare-chera, years back and it simply means to dance. And you know yours truly enjoys a good dance. I may be getting old with shades of grey. But there is life in the old dog yet.
The dark side
Sadly though, this place, Fife Avenue Shopping Centre, could soon be turned into yet another red-light district in the city. Those making a living in the oldest profession in the world have found a new hunting ground to do what they do best — peddle flesh—ready and willing to unashamedly jump into bed with every man who says hallo. And tipsy, the men, with their broken moral compasses,   are obliging them. It’s true what they say. Beauty lies in the eyes of the beer holder.
I observed particularly one indiscreet lady taking three men out to her flat along Herbert Chitepo one after the other in quick succession. One of the man was as old as Meth-uselah, the other looked like death warmed over and the third one was a well known bank executive in his early 40s, who surely must have an appointment with the devil.
I couldn’t resist the urge to ask her what on earth did she think she was selling, if you catch my drift, to men fit to be her great grandfathers.
“It’s not about love or how the man looks. It’s about the colour of his money. I will just close my eyes and think of England”, said the girl who looks like one Russian femme fatale I have seen in one of the Bond movies.
When you close your eyes and think of England when you have sex with someone, you do not enjoy it but you do it because you think you should. Gosh! And to think that I thought conscience is God to all mortals!
It’s truly frightening. Some of them are so wild and brazen about it. And come tomorrow, like the swingers in the wild, they would have forgotten what and who they did! 
Death of a great artiste
The reggae fraternity is in morning. One of the genre’s greatest instrumentalists—keyboardist, lead guitarist and producer all rolled into one-Wycliffe “Steely” Johnson has gone the way of flesh. He joined his ancestors in the land of the silent on Tuesday September 1, 2009 in New York.
He was our idol, me and my friend of many years, including 2009, Motsi Gerrit Sinyoro (Baba Sharon and husband of Joyce Gohodo). He influenced our lives in ways that are difficult to explain.
Simply known as Steelie he was a member of arguably the biggest and most influential reggae band of our time — the Roots Radics, whose other members were Errol Flabba Holt, Style Scott, Bingy Bunny, Dwight Pinkney and Wally Badarou.
The band backed the likes of the man who is equally at home with matters of the heart, the spiritual and political — Gregory Isaacs, Prince Far, Yellow Man, Earl Sixteen, Bunny Wailer, Charlie Chaplin and you name them. If Dennis Brown was around, he would probably tell you that Lloyd Parks and We The People Band were the best backing band. Shabba Ranks would say  it’s Ruff Cut. Luciano would stick out for The Fire House Crew. And Chicken Chest would vouch for Riddim Kings.
Admittedly, all the bands were (are) great in backing several artistes on tour and in the recording studios. But I preferred the Roots Radics. They had something special. There is no accounting for taste! So don’t argue. Steelie left the Roots Radics and teamed up with Cleveland “Clevie” Brown. They were known as Steely and Clevie, a formidable composing and producing team.
Sly Dunbar and Robbie Shakespeare are known as the rhythm twins. Steely and Clevie were known as the other twins, underlining their pride of place in the reggae business.
The duo composed one of the most popular riddims-Punanny Riddim. It is said that this riddim, produced by King Jammy has been sampled and reused more than any other dancehall track. Their other riddims include Street Sweeper, Ice Pick, Bitter Blood, Bad Weather, and Sleepy Dog. They also worked with various notable artistes to produce outstanding works. These include Leroy Gibbons and Dillinger’s Bruk Camera, Ninjaman’s Murder Dem, Cutty Ranks’ Retreat, Fredie McGregor’s Prophecy, Foxy Brown’s re-issue of Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car, Reggie Stepper’s Drum Pan Sound.  Even Cocoa Tea, Gregory Isaacs, and Frankie Paul just to name but a few had hits on the duo’s riddims.
Surprisingly what is rarely publicly acknowledged is that the two are also reputed to have launched the careers of the 1980s’ best dancehall djs, Admiral Bailey (Dont Wanna Kiss), Cutty Ranks (Half Idiot), Johnny P (Dash Weh Belly) Tiger (Mi Lover Mi Lover) Ninjaman (Zig It Up) and Shabba Ranks who started off as Co-Pilot with the song Heat Under Sufferer’s Feet. RIP Steelie.
Happy belated birthdays to the apple that did not fall far from the tree, Nigel Farai who turned 11 on September 5, my cute little princess, Nardine Tinotenda who turned six on September 22 and of course my love Auxiliary Thokozile, who turned 36 on September 3.