Dear ‘Rappers’
I hope this letter finds you well.
By now I’m sure that in all neighbourhoods in the ghetto there is one person who claims to be a Zim Hip Hop artist. That’s a fact! I’m not a fan of Hip Hop myself. My English was limited as a child therefore it did not appeal to me. I’m more of a dancehall guy, Zim Dancehall to be exact. That aside, I’m more concerned about the state of this other genre filled with people who seem not to own belts.
A young ghetto boy stumbles on an old B.I.G CD and after a few punch lines, inspiration hits the soul. The story being laid out in the tracks speaks to him, more or less. Considering that he is unemployed and in desperate need of a job or hobby, the young boy decides to try rapping. His English vocabulary is limited like mine and his knowledge of hip hop is based on the one album he listened to. The well laid bars by Biggie have him thinking that he can be the best in Zimbabwe, in fact the world.
There is not well thought out plan on hour to begin this ‘career’. It’s merely an escape from his mom’s constant mantra of, “Urikuitei nehupenyu wako iwe?”. He courts the services of his friends who he smokes weed with. That’s his crew, he already picks a ‘manager’ from the bunch! They pop into a local bedroom studio where a guy sitting on the bed with a laptop on his legs and he claims that he is the best ‘producer’ in that area. Filled with excitement, the young boy does not pay any mind to the exorbitant price the ‘producer’ asks for.
Just a hour later the ‘producer’ patches together a very weak instrumental and forces the obviously un prepared boy to record. He claims that his ‘studio’ is fully booked and the boy should finish up quickly as he is on a ‘discount’! Two hours later an un-mastered product is rendered and the young boy leaves with it. The ‘producer’ promised to mix and master it but was only giving him the un-mastered track so that the young boy can hear what he did.
The young boy leaves the studio hyped af! Rushes to his crew and sends them the track. Although it sounds like garbage because it’s still raw, the crew hypes him up and tells I’m that it’s the best track they have heard in a while! The rest of the people he sends it too don’t take a second listen. They just assure him that its good when he is around. The ‘producer’ is now suddenly unavailable, the young boy cannot get his mastered copy, if it was ever mastered. The streets are filled his unfinished product. A career is over before it began and I’m not saying he was that bad!
Soul Jah Love zvaZvinhu!
I hope this small story got my point across. Read again to understand.
Your High Pal
Inini
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