Online Reporter
Robson Sharuko
Metros Editor
MEETING, let alone chatting with Rick Ross and hugging the American superstar rapper, was not part of my original plans.
After all, there was no indication that he would be at Harare Sports Club on Friday night.
I knew he had arrived in Harare that afternoon.
Images of his private jet, and an equally lengthy motorcade of some of the best cars money can buy, had long flooded social media pages.
It’s a long flight from his base in Miami, Florida, and the expectation was that the man who calls himself the ‘Biggest Boss’ would be resting on Friday night.
After all, he had a show to take care of the following night at the Hippodrome in the Hillside area of the capital.
But, when you travel private, and in luxury, distances cease to be something of a concern.
When you fly on a plane with a master bedroom, a Jacuzzi, a stand-up shower, circadian lighting systems which combat jet leg, a private lavatory, conference rooms and even a dedicated wardrobe, you are basically in a five-star hotel suite in the air.
I had been told that I will be given some time on the stage to talk about Scottland, their sensational achievements last year and how the media reacted to their colourful arrival and covered their adventure to the Promised Land.
Of course, I didn’t end up doing that.
I ended up being one of the guys who conducted the auction of the Scottland jerseys, including one, signed by President Mnangagwa, which sold for a record US$1 million.
But, all that came later.
What came first was my few minutes of fame in the company of Rick Ross.
I had just gone onto the stage, and been handed the microphone by Barry Manandi, one of the directors of ceremony, when I felt this was an opportunity to shake the building and bring the guests to life.
Until that point, I had felt the atmosphere had been flat even though it was a packed auditorium.
So, I tried to shake it a bit and left the stage and headed straight to the special guest Rick Ross, who was in the VVIP Enclosure in the company of Scottland owner Scott Sakupwanya, the businessman who had flown him here to celebrate for the celebrations of the legislator’s 47th birthday.
Deputy Sports Minister Emily Jesaya was also in that VVIP Enclosure.
I approached that VVIP Arena with a bit of caution.
My target was Rick Ross but how was I going to break the ice?
An idea flashed in my mind and I decided to use the opening lyrics of his 2010 hit sing, Aston Martin, to basically introduce myself.
“Let’s pull the two-seater out, baby,” I told him.
I’m pretty sure he didn’t expect that.
I could sense he froze a little bit, before replying, “It’s wherever you wanna go.”
It was a booming voice, with all the authority which has helped him capture a global followership running into tens of millions.
His reply was the second line of that hit song.
In that brief moment, as the camera lights flashed, the two of us had just sung the opening part of his hit song.
My poor voice probably tainted the quality of this duet and his rich voice provided the song with the quality it was crying for.
As the crowd erupted, it took me to the first day I saw this song’s video, a young Rick Ross, played by an actor, admiring a neighbour who had just returned home, with his girlfriend, and packed his Aston Martin at his gate.
At that moment, the young man promises himself that he will get himself a similar car, when he grows up, something which Rick Ross did later in his life.
It was that success, which includes transforming himself from a poor boy to a rich man who now has a net worth of US$150 million, which brought Rick Ross to Harare.
“Welcome to our city brother, enjoy your stay,” I told him.
He smiled, he shook my hand and we hugged, a golden moment which was captured by the scores of photographers.
The crowd exploded, with just the energy I was looking for, and before I had arrived back on the stage, I could tell that the noise had gone a notch up.
I turned and saw Rick Ross leaving the VVIP Enclosure, he grabbed the microphone from me and burst onto the stage.
And, in that instant, an impromptu free show for the guests, by one of the biggest names in the rap industry around the world, had started.
The crowd went wild.
Many left their seats and converged at the stage, the security personnel, which until then had been having a relaxed night, swung into action, the phones and the cameras captured the moments.
And, the party was well and truly underway.
Rick Ross appeared to have a soft touch for the kids, inviting them onto the stage and singing and dancing with them.
The kids included Ngedwa Mphako, known as Sir Dhedhwa, whose school fees for the year, a monthly allowance, a rent-free house for his family and medical care has been taken care of by Scott.
When the singing and dancing ended, Rick Ross brought back my microphone and, for the second time that night, hugged me.
The following day Rick Ross was at Rufaro, in the heart of Mbare, and one could tell that he was feeling at home.
He grew up in a challenging environment in Carol City, Florida.
He was surrounded by poverty, drugs and violence during his youthful days.
His home was less than half an hour from the luxurious Art Deco hotels and the beauty of Miami’s South Beach.
But he was so poor he didn’t set his foot on the beach until he had left his teenage years behind him.
It’s an area he revisited when he spoke during his show on Saturday night.
“I was once living in a small room without AC (air condition), now I’m flying private and shining in diamonds.
Things have changed for him now.
He can afford a fleet of Aston Martins, a number of properties and even hinted he could buy a property in Zimbabwe.
“Me and my brother Scott, we hustle every day,” he said.
“Every day I’m hustling.”
For me, the golden moment was the hug.
Because, at that moment, the two worlds of my journalism story – the sports coverage and the entertainment coverage – met.
It was such a beautiful moment.
