/ 30 January 2004

Facing the music

A friend called me excitedly. “Guess who I am friends with?” she asked. I wondered about the six billion people on Earth — who could she be referring to? Finally she put an end to my misery: “Mzekezeke”.

It was odd. For my friend, had she not been black, would have been justly described as a kugel. And our kugel calls various movers and shakers in business, media and politics friends and acquaintances.

So why should she be in awe of Mzekezeke, that badly dressed, loud-mouthed and balaclava-clad kwaito musician? For a while she had known Mzekezeke’s real-life identity by his first name and had no suspicion that the well-mannered fellow could be the much-loved lout. Why, one wonders, do millions of South Africans of all ages, walks of life and musical tastes go crazy about a fellow who cannot sing a chord? How is it that his debut offering sold in excess of 100 000 copies?

Fortunately for him, Mzekezeke is a kwaito musician and as such he does not have to heed the Quincy Jones maxim, “What good is a song if it cannot inspire?”

Ultimately, everyone knows that Mzekezeke is Yfm’s DJ S’bu Leopeng. But that does not seem to have extinguished the passion audiences have for the masked one. So, these days he may be less of an enigma, but it doesn’t make him less of a marketing genius.

In this case “he” means the two people who occupy the same space: S’bu and his alter-ego Mzekezeke. And while S’bu is regarded in some quarters as a whining Model C type (black children educated in formerly whites-only schools), Mzekezeke comes across as a street-smart hood.

The Model C brigade derides Mzekezeke because of his bad English, yet the corner-sitting kasie (township) magents cannot stand the cheezeboy (mama’s boy) of the airwaves. It is especially galling to many of them when in one of his songs he chants about Lez’ezeyigebhengu (this is thug stuff).

Another kwaito musician, also known simply as S’bu (his surname Ntshangase), has publicly criticised S’bu/Mzekezeke for singing about things he knows nothing about. One of Ntshangase’s songs is Wazini ngeyigebhengu? (What do you know about thugs?).

Critics of Sbu/Mzekezeke say he perpetuates the myth that it is cool to be criminal when he lives in the relative safety of Dainfern in the plush seat of Johannesburg’s northern suburbs.

The sleeve of his debut single Guqa Ngamadolo says Mzekezeke’s real name is Zakhele, who hails from Mnonjaneng section in Thembisa on the East Rand. “This humble 21-year-old who comes from a family of six left school in standard eight with an ambition to become a Kwaito star,” it reads. Subsequent to his achieving stardom, Mzekezeke has come across as the champion of musicians seeking an opportunity to showcase their worth.

In January, a Sunday newspaper gossip columnist claimed he was paying his sidekick Brown Dash R1 000 a show even though Mzekezeke charges R25 000 a gig.

Another sore point for Ntshangase is that S’bu/Mzekezeke’s brand of pidgin English is seen to be promoting indifference to a culture of learning among young township dwellers when S’bu/Mzekezeke has had the benefit of a good education.

In the same sleeve note Mzekezeke’s producers say his “success has shown and proven to people who hail from the township that you can make it even with limited education or the lack of proper English”. One is reminded of the sentiments expressed by rock supergroup Pink Floyd, who once sang, “We don’t need no education, we don’t need no thought control.”

One is also reminded of Nigerian Lagbaja, who wears a mask as part of his public persona. But Lagbaja’s mask is social commentary involving the representation of millions of anonymous, faceless people, while Mzekezeke’s forms the boundary-line between the two entities that occupy the same body. It is simply a business suit.

Back to my friend, the black kugel: “I doubt if [the real S’bu] would buy a Mzekezeke CD if he was forced to buy one CD only. He would probably buy something by Kabelo or Squatta Camp,” she says.

“He is a nice guy with a good heart. But he is a Model C. He wears those big pants like they do, talks ‘nigger-type’ and wears yellow and pink takkies. He loves yellow — all the cars he drives or has driven are yellow.” This includes a Mini-Cooper, an Audi A3 and a VW Bug.

“It is not only his beautiful smile,” she continues, “S’bu is quite a catch! Okay so he has a big bum, but still he is quite a catch!”

The kugel says S’bu is quite unlike Mzekezeke — a neat person who would not leave an empty glass on the table after a drink. “And he is quite clued up. You can open any section of the newspaper and he can engage. He is the type that reads the Financial Mail and Business Day. He could easily be on SAfm.”

But who S’bu/Mzekezeke really is seems to bother very few. His fans and business partners know all they need to; he is an entertainer who has come to exemplify an era, a young man with keen business acumen able to reinvent himself.

Mzekezeke never set out to change the world, but to entertain it. And he has gone way beyond what, some would say, are his wildest dreams.

Perhaps the most profound observation was made by an entertainment journalist at a Johannesburg daily who said: “Although I know who Mzekezeke really is, I would stop being a fan if he were to unmask himself.” There.