One of the most celebrated figures in kwaito circles at the moment is an unlikely but not necessarily reluctant hero. A creation of Gauteng youth station Yfm, Mzekezeke is an intriguing paradox. His method has been to rise to celebrity status while being an antithesis of celebrity.
Perpetually incognito, in a black balaclava and full-length overalls, he built his reputation by showing disdain for high-profile personalities. He claims to loathe celebrities and as such does not want to be one. Hence the permanent disguise — a balaclava. He first made his mark by making prank calls to celebrities that started out as innocent and gradually changed to impatient petulance and sometimes even mild insults. His telephone calls start out as a simple compliment from a gushing fan, or from a youngster hoping to break into the industry. Either way it quickly moves to a demand for a one-on-one meeting or a specially arranged opportunity to prove his worth as an on-air personality or a music performer, both of which he now is.
His victims, or rather subjects, have ranged from Metro FM DJ Eddie Zondi, actress Connie Masilo Ferguson and a surprisingly touchy former prankster Phat Joe. The hip-hop artist Amu was called on by Mzekezeke to explain “this rubbish that they copy from America, which will embarrass us if they heard it”. For his behaviour black youths in townships everywhere have elevated him to a hero.They identify with him for speaking on their behalf; for demystifying and trivialising celebrity.
And the phenomenon has grown. From a weekend slot, Mzekezeke now occupies prime time, weekday radio on Unathi Nkayi and Rudeboy Paul’s Kamikaze Heat on Yfm. He is also a recording artist with a solo album to his credit whose title track Sguqa Ngamadolo is one of the hits of this summer. It has reportedly sold 90 000 copies. The next hit from the project is the song Amakoporosh, shot on video earlier this month. For his music, Mazekezeke combines his hoarse, emotional rants with competent instrumentation.
The context that Yfm provides is essential to sustain him, like it has been to two other icons: DJ and presenter Khabzela as well as comedian Shabba. Like them, Mzekezeke thrives on parody rather than satire. Like them he connects through township lingo. He generates mass appeal through the use of Zulu and broken English. Finally he also splits the youth down the middle: lapped up by the masses in Tembisa and Kliptown and frowned upon, with spurts of forbidden admiration, in suburbia.
Unlike his predecessors Mazekezeke has the ability to sustain appeal beyond the infatuation of his audience. Khabzela, for example, has receded to lukewarm popularity with his banter. Shabba, through his slapstick humour, appears to be reaching a cul-de-sac. At the recording of the second volume of his comedy CD last week, a gossip columnist reported Shabba to be boring audiences stiff, their laughter termed “mechanical”. So it’s down to Mzekezeke to break convention by actually interpreting the world around him with an idiotic yet probing insight.
Unmasking Mzekezeke has been a source of fascination. Yet rumours have, by sheer momentum rather that confirmation, grown to conventional wisdom that he is in fact Yfm DJ S’bu Leope. It was at Leope’s show that he first made his appearance. Indeed wherever Mzekezeke appears, Leope happens to be. Leope is even featured on Mzekezeke’s album. A recently staged scuffle between Leope and the masked one should confirm, rather than dispel, the rumour. How ironic, one paradox feeding off another.