Gianni Infantin

Brickbats, serious comedians and awards drama

Khuphuka Nasingeni
FIFA has a new president, who has dual nationality. I can almost hear someone say we also have a new Zifa president! I am not sure if ours is still this brand-new, and if he has a Swiss accent. And an Italian accent to boot!

I loved their picture together, our clean-shaven football deities. In fact, I think this Bulawayo coach who does not favour dreadlocks at his team idolises the Fifa president and he will be hoping that our Zifa president could exert his influence on his bald-headed superior to introduce sweeping changes in terms of allowable hairstyles on the field of play.

It is our hope that Infantino will bring a breath of fresh air to soccer, and restore the swag to the world’s most beautiful game.  Still on the hairstyles (or is it lack of hair), the son of Nasingeni is tempted to come up with some rating score for some of our prominent personalities’ seemingly compulsive behaviours.

I believe beyond their hairstyles, Carl Joshua Ncube and Wicknell Chivayo have little else in common. Chivayo has risen to fame through social media, his bragging about the Benjamins and lately by being a Zifa benefactor. Carl is well-known in comedy circles, quite an enemy of our poor ribs that are always at his mercy once he gets on stage.

It seems there is a war of some sorts brewing between the two, with words such as roast being generously stewed in the mix!

It could be a season of turnarounds, to borrow Charismatics parlance. Methinks our comedians are getting way too serious to be taken lightly anymore.

On the other side of the globe, while black actors were standing their ground led by the irrepressible Jada, determined to boycott the Oscars, up stepped Chris Rock sparing no one either side of the argument.

I am sure he collected a cool cheque at the end of the evening . . . all in a days’ work. What got me thinking, however, was Rock’s questioning of the very idea of having a woman’s category in best actor, which he used to good effect by suggesting that maybe we need a black category if we are to be guaranteed of a black winner at the Oscars!

To think that we have made giant strides in our education system with the same marking scales being used by Zimsec to grade our O-level and A-level candidates, only for award ceremonies to take us many steps back by announcing best female artist and a separate best male artist.  What sex is this excellence that the judges seek to recognise?

Still on award winners, I have always admired the way some of our artistes conduct themselves, on and off stage, of course with a big helping of public relations. This week was an exception as award- winning Jah Bolt, sorry Prayzah, did a Usain Bolt (or was it a F1 Hamilton) on Zinara guys at one of those Midlands tollgates.

Is this the guy who sings some tune that goes “zundza” or something like that . . . and then he refuses to have his pockets shaken so that he gives to Caesar what belongs to Caesar?

He has been accumulating awards like confetti in the past few weeks and I hope this fame is not getting to his dreadlocked head.  Who am I to deny him yet another befitting honour of being the Mampara of the Week!

But there shall certainly be no award for guessing that the political season is upon us. While there is serious drought on the agricultural front, in the political fields it is a bountiful year, if not 24 months or so. You see, I have been planning this for a long time such that if I had my way, I would have had these ideas patented; you cannot trust anyone nowadays.  Even my friend uMzo appeared uninterested in my ideas but as soon as I left my bar stool by the corner, I hear he started expanding on my ideas with such finesse the latter day tenderpreneurs would have gone green with envy.

To cut a long story short, seeing that all sorts of political creatures are emerging from all manner of crevices, I have already made an application to my bankers for finance because I do not want to be caught napping this time around.

The plan is to order millions (yes, millions based on census figures) of cheap plain t-shirts and warehouse them within our borders in case customs duty takes a wrong turn before elections.

I am already approaching a few old and new parties, I am not even hesitating to persuade a few disgruntled members of existing formations to form their own so that I get business to print t-shirts from as many customers as possible.

I am also already in negotiations with a bottling company to supply me with bottled water for the top tables at rallies while negotiations are at an advanced stage with a renowned prophet for special anointing oil that guarantees electoral success.

Like I said, this should be a season of turnarounds . . . I can smell the tenders and success all the way even before my bank grants me my loan request!

I am already feeling sophisticated with even an online footprint now . . .