Online Reporter
WE thought that this year we had escaped the bitterest part of winter, but alas.
Winter is here folks.
While the rest of us are busy layering up and complaining about the cold, there is probably one Zimbabwean who is feeling the bitterest chill of all.
His name is Kurai Makore and he has just learned the hardest lesson in showbiz: You can borrow your uncle’s surname, you can borrow his hairstyle and you can even borrow his dance moves, but you cannot borrow his legacy.
Last week, the Chimurenga lion, Thomas “Mukanya” Mapfumo, finally roared.
He called his nephew “arrogant”, “lazy” and lacking talent.
Ouch!
That is not just throwing shade; that is erecting a whole solar eclipse over Kurai’s career. The drama began when Mukanya’s company barred Kurai from playing the legend’s music.
A “cease and desist” notice was issued, and promoters and venue owners were warned that they would “face the music” if they let Kurai croon Mukanya’s classics.
But Kurai, in his infinite wisdom, decided to test the waters. And Mukanya responded with the kind of brutal honesty that only a veteran can deliver.
He revealed that Kurai once called him to say, “Baba, ndatanga zvemusic, saka ndakuchinja zita kuti ndinzi Kurai Mapfumo.”
Can you imagine? The audacity! The sheer nerve!
It is one thing to ride on your uncle’s coattails, but it is another thing entirely to try and stitch yourself into the fabric of his surname.
Mukanya, ever the philosopher, shut that down quickly: “Zita rine varidzika iri.”
Translation: “Son, that name has owners. Go and find your own.”
Now, let us be real. Kurai has been in the industry for over six years.
He has three albums to his name — “Gara Unzwe”, “Ngoma Kurira” and “Dzimwe Nguva”.
And yet the only time we hear about him is when he is either copying Mukanya’s hairstyle or trying to change his name.
Six years, people!
In six years, you could have learned to play the mbira, built a brand and maybe even composed a hit song. But no, Kurai has been busy trying to fit into shoes that are not only too big but also belong to someone else.
This brings me to a disease that has plagued Zimbabwean music — and indeed, our football — for decades: the “son of a legend” syndrome.
We have seen it with the Dembo Brothers, who tried to fill the late Leonard Dembo’s shoes and ended up with blisters.
We have seen it with Obert and Peter Moyo, who have been trying to convince us that they are their father’s musical heirs, but the jury is still out.
And let us not forget Simon Chimbetu and his brothers’ scions, who have been riding the late Dendera musician’s wave for so long that they have forgotten how to swim on their own.
Even Faheem Somanje, Daiton’s son, has tried his hand at the family trade, but alas, the apple does not fall far from the tree — it just rolls downhill.
Of course, there are exceptions.
Ammara Brown has managed to carve her own niche, and Atenda Chinx has shown that she can stand on her own two feet. But for every Ammara, there are a dozen Kurais who are content to live in the shadows of their famous relatives, hoping that some of the stardust will rub off on them.
The problem, as Mukanya rightly pointed out, is that Kurai lacks composing talent.
Mukanya even gave him an almost complete song called “Zvinonetsa” with the mbira part already done, and all Kurai had to do was add guitars.
But the boy did nothing. Nothing! It’s like being given a fully baked cake and being told to just add icing, and you still manage to mess it up.
And let us talk about the handlers.
Mukanya blamed Kurai’s “handlers” for the fallout, singling out one Blessing “Vava” for influencing him badly.
Now, I don’t know who this Vava is, but if he is advising Kurai to change his surname and copy his uncle’s dance moves, then he is not a handler; he is a saboteur.
With handlers like that, who needs enemies? The irony is that Kurai could have used this controversy to his advantage. He could have taken the high road, composed his own music and built his own brand.
Instead, he chose the low road — the one that leads to a dead end.
So, as we watch this drama unfold, let us take a moment to appreciate the wisdom of Mukanya. He has worked hard for his legacy, and he is right to protect it.
As for Kurai, well, he has a choice: He can either find his own voice or continue to be a footnote in his uncle’s story.
And we all know how footnotes end — ignored, forgotten and gathering dust.
Kurai, it’s time to stop trying to be Mapfumo and start being Makore.
Ndikoko!
