Online Reporter
TWENTY years ago, the number one hit song in this country was Cephas Mashakada’s ‘Samson.’
The man they dubbed ‘Moto Muzhinji’ gave us a gem of a song which dominated the 2005 end-of-year Radio Zimbabwe Coca-Cola Top 20 Charts.
Mashakada died in August 2011.
He was just 51.
He had been admitted at Chitungwiza General Hospital for three weeks due to diabetes complications and was in the Intensive Care Unit for almost a week.
His doctors said at the time of his death the fiery lead guitarist had developed high blood pressure and pneumonia, which developed into septic shock, leading to renal failure and ultimately his death.
The legendary musician’s style was a fusion of sungura and gospel music.
Mashakada was born in Chinhoyi in 1960 and teamed up with boys from his village and managed to form a band titled Wild Ten in 1977.
Other group members included the late Biggie Tembo of the Bhundu Boys, Jacob Teguru and Franco Kazere.
The group moved to Harare at the invitation of Paul Mpofu, who was at the time attached to World Tomorrow Band.
Mashakada joined the Muddy Face in 1979, when it was then led by Job Mashanda, as a lead guitarist and up to the time of his death Mashakada still preferred the guitar as he used to say:
“My guitar can sing and l love it, even if I was to lose my voice my guitar can do the singing for me.”
His musical journey was adored by his fans with hit songs such as “Samson”, “Zvamaronga”, “Kunamata Ndaida” and “Hera”, which catapulted him into the limelight.
His first album was titled “Tenda Kumudzimu Yako” and was recorded in 1984 and his earliest hit songs were “Nherera Zvichengete” and “Vaforomani” both getting gold status after selling more than 50 000 copies.
“When I changed my style, I left the guitar work with its sungura beat and I changed the Iyrics into gospel so it is a combination of both,” he said.
Mashakada, who was dreadlocked, argued that the idea of keeping a scruffy look − the beard, locks, unbuttoned shirt reflected the title of his band “The Muddy Face”.
An obituary in The Herald noted that Mashakada’s life could be “likened to a hilarious comedy, which ends abruptly, leaving viewers in suspense. God has surely taken back his gift.
“For sure is death to the living, but Mashakada deserved a bit more time on earth.
“His death has changed the perking order in the music industry leaving it looking more like a bouquet of flowers without colourful roses.
“His is like a book whose last paragraphs are hard to discern, leaving the reader with many unanswered questions.
“The burly and dreadlocked singer who passed on at Chitungwiza Central Hospital on Tuesday led a simple life pregnant with humour.
“Mashakada had a unique blend of gospel music fused with jiti, which carried listeners to glory with a distinct lead guitar, a stable rhythm and imposing bass guitar riffs. Also not to be outdone was the drum.
“So skilful was the husky-voiced and grey-bearded artist that he made the guitar do the singing while fans wreaked havoc on the dancefloor.”
Twenty years ago, with ‘Samson’ ruling the roost, Mashakada hit the bull’s eye.It was a turning point in his career.
“Before fortune knocked on his door around 2004, Motomuzhinji confined his live shows to mining towns, farming areas and small bars in the ghettos,” reads his obituary.
“On certain occasions he would stage gigs in the Kopje area at Mai Jojo’s place where the common men usually meet for a drink or two after work.
“Mashakada was a common sight along Kaguvi Street in downtown Harare where those with psychomotor skills fixed his bedraggled yellow VW Kombi, which he used for family travel and carrying his instruments to live shows.
“On certain occasions, he would also be seen in the same street driving an equally old red Alfasud with rusty fenders.
“The streetwise Mashakada literally had time for everyone and allowed fans, yours truly included, to play his instruments during breaks.
“You could also hire his car easily and even instruments. He enjoyed assisting others provided every part met their side of the bargain.
“Mashakada was loved by small boys whom he occasionally bought plates of sadza and assisted with bus fare.
“The man was a heavy guzzler who could quaff copious bottles of undiluted brandy without showing signs of intoxication.” − H-Metro Reporter/The Herald
