Let Me Explain: Boss Ginimbi Created Rich People!
He is gone; resting wherever people go after they have exhaled their last. A beautiful life that came to an end. He died as he lived, surrounded and everyone’s friend. In our hearts, a memory will always be kept, of one we loved, and will never forget.
As I scribe this obituary, I keep hearing a hoarse, brutely voice whispering to me, “Grieve not for me; Remember the best times, the laughter, the good life I lived while I was there. Keep smiling and surely the sun will shine through. My mind is at ease, my soul is at rest. Continue traditions, no matter how small; go on with your life, don’t worry about falls. Keep up your chin. Until the day comes, we’re together again.”
Regardless of such consolation I’m getting from mother nature, the interweb is still abuzz, investigating, ruminating, conjecturing about his not-so-private life; his wealth, his business. They have described his dealings as “dodgy, ghostly enterprise” and whatnot. He was Illuminati and a Satanist, others have said.
I mourned the day he passed away; I’m still mourning today. But what good will bereaving do to me if I can’t share how Boss Ginimbi; the genius one was able to turn my life for the better?
I’m ready to tell you a short story that might help some of y”all.
Note that it is crucial, but I have someone who I know who is significantly wealthy. Like, really rich. That person challenged me, and the ambitious me felt like I was not doing enough. A knot was formed in my hungry belly and I felt the need to become something in life. Just more than just a consumer; more than a client; more than just a human being.
A couple of years ago, about four years ago, I was a youngin with a business idea. I went to Sandton, South Africa looking for a plug for assistance in pushing my brand. I met this lady and while we were chopping it up, you know, about the contracts and other boring business particularities, she realised that I was originally from Zimbabwe and she said that she knew a Zimbambean fella who might help. Guess who that somebody was? A 32-years old Ginimbi in the flesh.
So, through the plug, he and I met at this posada and because real recognise real, it didn’t take me long to understand that the person I was talking to was overly ornate, not in a nice way. This tricenarian with somewhat unrefined looks and a big dick energy talked about money and all and I was like, wait, does the man know who I am or who I am related to?
A shrewd judge of character he was, he must have noted that I was jaded with his rags-to-riches, started-from-the-bottom-now-we-are-here tales. So, he flipped the script real quick and for a minute, he was examining into who I was. Well, with levels of respect mutualised, I told him a bit about myself and what I was about. He reciprocated and said he was into gas and fuel line.
Because my fucks-giving capacity in that trade was at an all-time zero, we went our separate ways, but as the rules of networking dictates, we exchanged numbers. Imagine how I must have felt walking away from the table with this Mbinger’s contact.
Few months passed and mans hit my number. Ngriii Ngriii Ngriii! I picked up, like what it do, what it does big holmes? Mans asked if I still had some finesse that I was selling at that time. Nothing illicit, just some straight drip for the culture. I told him, yeah I can have sum’n delivered to you and he said, make it happen, Lil nigga.
The guap was good money, so I scrapped the middleman. I had to do it on my own.
“Pay attention to Hussle I got the rules for ya
Made my way through the maze and I left some clues for ya
Now its up to you are you going
Take heed and get paid
And scream all money in until your dying day
Say fuck the middle man get on your grind and save,” raps Nipsey Hussle on Bullets Ain’t Got No Names Vol. 1 Outro.
From wherever I was coming from, I landed down South and met with the man. Still not convinced about my line of trade, he quizzed why I was still sweating on small gwaans when there were some big doughs to be made. I told him my reasons and he was like, nah fam, and asked me to join his drill.
I gave in and I began moving fuel. True to his word (dude was hella street smart), I moved enough that three years ago I had enough money to buy myself a highfalutin whip some of y’all only dream of. Actually, I made well enough to also rope in a couple of my homies, because when you make it out there, you don’t gotta forget to buy back the block and eat with yours.
Now, with my folks on, we grew big that we started what we call a Round. It works like this; we put in money to one person and the person invest in whatever they want and the next round they would put in double. The rounds went for months, bruh, until everyone was big enough.
As the line was flourishing, I got back to Boss G a while after and he suggested there was yet another opportunity in gas trading. I was like, nah B; that ain’t my thing.
Matter of fact, I chose something else. As savvy as he was, he discouraged me about the adventure, but I still went ahead with it. I hit a ditch bruh! I had an enormous loss in 2018. It was a loss so huge I almost quit the business.
But Ginimbi wasn’t a quitter, nor did he keep such around him, nahmean? So, he picked me up, but it wasn’t for free, not this time. You don’t fuck up in business and still expect freebies and handouts, I learnt that from him. Y’all gotta understand this… as academically unsophisticated as he was, the man knew the numbers game. Say he gives you a $100.00, he wanted it back as $1000.00, no qualms.
So, he helped me out and after some time of figuring things out and hustling, I got back on my feet. I covered him. Even we were.
Came 2020 with its uncertainty.
I was so ready to try gas as he suggested.
Sigh!
November 8 happened; the man passed on before I even tried.
Since I have wailed for a whole weekass now, I want to get to the moral of my nyaya.
Initially, I was into things like leisure, entertainment, designers shit etc, but Boss Ginimbi opened my eyes and made me try new thangs. Mind you, that shiznit didn’t come for free. On every $100 000 I made, this nigga had like $10 000 that he reaped. That was just from me. What of others he was in bed with?
This nigga made sure his pals’ businesses were blooming so he keeps collecting money from them. Consciously or not, he would reap off from your hustle, one way or the other. I mean, man would invite you to his joint and give you a nice treat and still make you pay. He was very much wary of the reality that there were charity cases, those who got free things and he knew there were friends; he never let his friends get nun for free. All those champagne bottles you saw getting popped on IG, someone paid for them and I can guarantee you half the time it was not him. He knew the business.
A Lambo is USD300k-350k and on a good day, I can tell you everyone in Ginimbi’s clique could afford it if they wanted to because he created rich people. I wasn’t close to the man to call each other’s buddies but in business, we made strides and his loss is not a loss to me alone but a loss to my business as well. I’m grounded!
He was not Illuminati or Satanist; rather, he was smart. Some will say, I know nothing about how he transcended from grass to grace because I wasn’t there. Fair enough! However, I met him when he was on top and tell you what, I saw what kept him there. No offence to other people I do business with but non of the people I do business within all Africa had the guts like Boss Ginimbi. He had time to party, play and laugh; he also had more time for serious business, and when it was that time, it was a whole new realm where no mistakes existed.
I salute that man and I will keep saluting him and his legacy that I was privileged to be part of in the last four years.
Rest In Peace, Boss G!
