Tafadzwa Zimoyo
Zimpapers Entertainment Editor
THERE comes a moment in every musician’s career when experience, confidence, and timing collide to produce something special.
For Baba Harare, that moment appears to have arrived.
The Jiti star has not only returned with a new album but with renewed purpose, proving that longevity in Zimbabwe’s music industry is not built solely on nostalgia.
The eight-track album “Pedzai Navo” features songs such as “Don’t Tell Me,” “Danga Remombe,” “Hombe,” and “Tsa tsa tsa,” among others.
It is built on reinvention, calculated collaborations, and an unwavering belief in one’s identity.
Across social media, songs from his latest offering are dominating conversations, dance challenges and playlists.
Whether it is TikTok, Facebook, or WhatsApp status updates, fans are dissecting lyrics, recreating dance routines, and debating his latest collaborations, making Baba Harare one of the country’s hottest musical talking points.
What stands out most is that this is not an album driven by one hit song.
It is an entire body of work that has reminded listeners why he remains one of Zimbabwe’s most consistent performers.
Perhaps no collaboration has generated as much excitement as the one featuring Feli Nandi.
Almost immediately after snippets and visuals surfaced online, social media detectives went into overdrive.
Some focused on the undeniable chemistry between the pair, while others wondered whether the closeness portrayed in promotional material was simply clever marketing designed to fuel interest in the album.
In today’s digital era, controversy often translates into clicks and streams.
Yet there is another school of thought.
What if it is simply good storytelling?
Music videos are miniature films.
Chemistry between performers is often intentional because audiences connect with believable emotions.
Whether fans believe the speculation or not, one fact remains — people are talking about Baba Harare’s music and Feli Nandi.
That, after all, is the dream of every artiste releasing a new project.
It is also not the first time Baba Harare has left audiences guessing.
His previous collaboration with comedian and actress Mai TT became a talking point because of the pair’s natural on-screen connection. Before that, his work with Gemma Griffiths equally attracted admiration, with many praising the visual quality, artistic direction, and effortless chemistry between the two artistes.
Many critics felt those productions elevated Zimbabwean music videos closer to international standards, proving local productions could compete aesthetically without losing their cultural identity. Instead of repeating the same formula, Baba Harare has continued expanding his collaborative circle.
One of the album’s biggest surprises is his collaboration with gospel Minister Michael Mahendere.
At first glance, it may appear an unlikely musical marriage.
Yet it demonstrates Baba Harare’s willingness to cross genres without abandoning his signature sound. Such collaborations broaden audiences while reminding listeners that music is not confined by labels. Good music simply finds common ground.
Long before becoming today’s chart favourite, Baba Harare’s journey was anything but straightforward. He earned his stripes as a gifted guitarist before becoming one of the stand-out members of Jah Prayzah’s Third Generation Band. Eventually, he made the bold decision to pursue a solo career — a move many questioned at the time.
Leaving the comfort of an established brand is never easy.
But Baba Harare trusted his instincts.
That gamble paid off as he gradually built his own loyal fan base through infectious Jiti rhythms, energetic live performances, and songs that resonated across generations.
Rather than imitate urban trends, he doubled down on Zimbabwean identity.
That decision is paying dividends today.
His latest album arrives at a time when debate around Jiti music has intensified, particularly on social media, where some critics have questioned the genre’s language, dance movements, and presentation.
Rather than shy away from the criticism, Baba Harare has embraced the conversation head-on.
In a statement that has since resonated with thousands of Zimbabweans, he defended both the genre and the culture behind it:
“There has been a lot of conversation lately about Jiti. Some have questioned the language. Others have questioned the dances. That is your right,” he said.
“But before we condemn our own culture, let us first understand it.
Jiti did not begin with me. I inherited it. It is deeply rooted in Zimbabwean tradition. It has accompanied our people through celebrations and mourning for generations. Traditional dances like Jerusarema have always celebrated life, community, womanhood, and manhood. Our ancestors were never ashamed of who they were.”
Baba Harare said, somewhere along the way, we became uncomfortable with our own reflection.
“Colonialism demonised our way of life. Today, when someone chooses to preserve and modernise our culture, it is labelled inappropriate.”
“I am not creating something foreign. I am giving a modern voice to a sound that has always belonged to us. I am adding my own signature to a proudly Zimbabwean genre.”
He said, culture survives when it is lived, sung, and danced. “I will not apologise for celebrating Jiti. I will continue to sing it. I will continue to honour it. I will continue to carry it with pride. Jiti is ours. And I will never allow it to die on my watch.”
Those words explain why Baba Harare’s current success feels different.



