![tuku eheka]()
Bruce Ndlovu
Fights caught on camera have become social media fodder.
A few weeks back, Zimbabweans’ attention was grabbed by another buzz worthy scuffle between two men on the streets of Harare.
Locked in a loveless embrace, the two exchanged periodic blows, with their foreheads kissing from time to time as one or the other lurched forward in what they hoped would be a match-ending head butt.
Ordinarily, this would have been another street fight perhaps not even worthy to go down in social media lore. But while the identity of one of the pugilists was not known, most Zimbabweans who saw the bout knew one of them.
Tangled in the mass of flailing arms and flying fists was urban grooves artiste Trevor Dongo. Due to his identity, scrutiny on the fight intensified, with ordinary Zimbabweans becoming armchair boxing analysts as they judged the prowess of Dongo and his unnamed adversary.
To most, it was unbelievable how one of the most recognisable faces in urban grooves had managed to find himself in a brutal, ugly dance with this man in the broad daylight of the Sunshine City.
For some, however, it was an apt illustration of the fact that perhaps the country’s most prominent figures in showbiz were not as insulated from daily street hazards as we think.
It’s difficult to imagine a similar scenario befalling a South African, Nigerian or American star for example, with the most immediate danger to them posed by the paparazzi and their ever ready cameras.
A street brawl like one Dongo was involved in flew in the face of the celebrity myth, as he was pulled down to the level of a street thug tussling with a stranger over an unspecified grievance.
Celebrities by their nature are people who live their lives with the glamour that eludes other ordinary members of society. While they are people of flesh just like us, their exploits in whatever field they excel in render them deities of sorts to their fans. Through their golden voices or their Midas touch on guitar strings, they become angels that wander the earth to the chorus of their loving fans.
It is the fans, however, that make the celebrities. People crave to see their favourite performers smiling unblinkingly beneath the glare of flashing lights. They crave to see these stars donning outrageous outfits that hardly seem fit for normal everyday purposes. Celebrities show us the other side of the coin, the side hidden from the ordinary man and woman.
Through celebrities, people escape the ordinariness of their everyday lives.
So every punch that landed on Dongo’s battered face was a hit on this myth of celebrity. Hence, the public watched with a sense of bias against Dongo, as every blow seemed to confirm what they have always known, but perhaps chose to ignore: Dongo, like the rest of his popular peers, is an ordinary man.
“In the Zimbabwean discourse, do we have celebrities? Who is a celebrity to you?” This was the question posed by ZiFM Stereo presenter MisRed this week on her Twitter page.
It was a pertinent question taking into consideration what had happened to Dongo a few weeks back. Perhaps by expecting Dongo to be insulated from the sort of incident they saw, Zimbabweans were unfairly expecting too much of what his popularity can do for him.
“A popular/well known being in Zimbabwe believed to have some influence on people,” was Candice Mwakalyelye’s response to her ZiFM colleague’s tweet.
The answers were varied but most showed that Zimbabweans think their most popular stars do not have the coins in the bank to be granted celebrity status.
“A celebrity has money plus he’s famous while a public figure is just famous but asina bag rakawanda,” said a twitter user by the name of @taybells.
While people revel everyday on the figures stars from other countries seem to pull, the general consensus is that Zimbabwean stars do not have the financial muscle to be bestowed with the hallowed mantle of celebrity.
Though they make the headlines and appear decked out on the finest threads on TV, it seems that Zimbabwean stars by virtue of their bank accounts, cannot fully sell the celebrity fantasy that their fans crave.
In October it emerged that music superstar Oliver Mtukudzi, had been taken to the High Court by a local car dealer, Premier Auto Services, which is seeking to recover over $43 000 for a Land Rover Discovery 3 vehicle he bought some time ago. Most wondered how it is possible that a man like Tuku, who has scaled every peak possible in the industry, is in such embarrassing debt.
Others would have wondered too how, if Tuku could not wrap us his debts neatly away from public eyes, other artistes who in all probability are in less demand than Tuku were faring.
Is it realistic in a limping economy to expect the country’s stars to defy the economics of the day and live the fabulous life that their fame seems to demand? After all, Tuku is only one of the 80 percent of Zimbabweans that are reportedly labouring under the strain of debt.
On the flipside, one wonders whether Zimbabwean stars have the resourcefulness to plough back whatever they make to viable businesses that can enhance the shine sprinkled on them by their popularity. After all is said and done, is the publicity worth it when it doesn’t translate to money in the bank?
“That visibility on mainstream media is important because promoters won’t put money in your hand if they don’t know who you are. It might seem hollow to some people but that publicity is how we get to make our money.
“I also think it’s a shame that people in Zimbabwe also think that cars and things are what show whether a person is truly successful when there’re greater things than that,” said rapper Cal_Vin. – @BruciEEye
