adminWalter Nyamukondiwa, Mashonaland West Bureau Chief
Music artist Taruvinga “Sugar Sugar” Manjokoto feels some promoters, choices he made and the “bad hand” that the banker in the wild casino of life dealt him have combined to relegate him to the peripheries of the music industry.
With it comes a life of struggle, unfulfilled dreams, mockery from some once adoring fans whom he rubs shoulders with in public transport, leaving him a tormented soul yearning for a breakthrough.
Was it a case of fame without fortune, talent tainted by misfortune, lack of proper management or imprudent use of resources at his peak?
From a stint on the top table of the country’s music industry where he easily rubbed shoulders with the finest of the time, Sugar Sugar dropped off and now sweeps up crumbs at the bottom.
His story of triumph, misfortune and loss, narrated with a tinge of humour, lament and regret reads like a movie script.
“The journey that I have travelled in music has been very painful and these days I have to endure being mocked as someone who was famous but of no means.
“People say painful things,” said Sugar Sugar with teary eyes.
His first love, music, took him to Mozambique, South Africa and Malawi among other places in search of a decent life and a quest to expand his career but the cloak of misfortune seemed stuck on him.
In South Africa, where he stayed for four years, fear and terror was the motif of his stay, making the trek back home the natural choice.
Having a fan shot at the gate at one of his shows, to having security at the gate raided during another show with the assailants making off with the gate takings sapped all the hope Sugar Sugar had of a musical breakthrough in that country.
“I could have stayed in South Africa longer but I was living under constant fear because of the nature of the people I often encountered during our shows,” said a dejected Manjokoto.
“During one of our shows, a fan was shot at the gate while waiting to play by some unknown people, affecting the image of our brand.
“In another incident some armed men came and raided the security team at the gate and went away with the money while I was playing inside. I played for nothing on the day.”
It became difficult to hold shows and he had to undertake some menial jobs to survive, prompting the decision to head back home.
“I could have been a target one of the days,” he noted.
Asked about royalties from music sales from his then record label, Gramma, Sugar Sugar said nothing meaningful came from the sale of his chart-topping albums including Chamungarwire, which took the country by storm.
The album seemed to be the climax of his music career drawing sold out concerts and a chance to share the stage with the evergreen Sungura maestro Alick Macheso, the late Tongai Moyo, Nicholas Zakaria and Leonard Zhakata among others.
“There wasn’t much money that came every three months from the record label and I would say the only time it seemed to be much was when the royalties accumulated when I stayed in Mozambique,” he explained.
“I got home and got a lump sum but the bulk of the money went to settle debts accumulated by the family during my absence.
“I bought groceries for my parents when I went to visit them after a long time away and that was it.”
This brings to the fore the uneasy relationship between record labels and the artists they contract.
Recently, Paradzai Mesi indicated that most artists would get about 15 percent of record sales with no proper system for artists to track how well their music was doing.
He later negotiated for an upward variation to around 20 percent.
This was said to be the rate across the board, prompting most artists including the late Oliver Mtukudzi and Simon Chimbetu to jump ship at the lapse of the alleged “exploitative” contracts for better ones.
For Sugar Sugar, he was at perfect bliss with whatever, the record label gave him without consideration of whether it was fair value or not.
“That is when I discovered the importance of being educated because I was content with what I was given and not what was due to me.
“It is only now that I look back and realise I could have benefited more from my talent,” he said.
Don’t they say ignorance is bliss?
The sting of ignorance also continues to prick him as he is unable to exploit the social media space and online music distribution channels.
Instead, he looks up to willing people to upload his music and monetise his platforms.
However, the road has been fraught with opportunists who are exploiting his works for their benefit.
“I don’t know how it is done. I see my music on the internet but I am not getting anything from it,” he lamented.
His biggest regret has been his decision to wean himself from businesswoman Mai Chitagu, also known as Mai Charehwa, who ran some bottle-stores in Budiriro 2 and sponsored him during his glory years.
Mai Charehwa promoted Manjokoto for seven years, which proved to be his purple patch.
“The woman would do everything for me for seven years and one day I just decided that I should relieve pressure from her and get support from other promoters and benefactors,” he narrated.
“I just said she had come a long way providing everything for me so I needed to give her a break.”
That was to be the nasty turning point of his career.
It is the decision he regrets to this day.
A costly decision!
His roller coaster rise to fame punctuated by hit songs such as Mairosi, Juliana and Zvaonekwa among others captured the attention of the nation between 2004 and 2015.
With 11 albums under his belt, Sugar Sugar believes he still has the magic touch that captured the attention of the nation.
When he realised that purported angels in shining armour who had promised to fill in the gap were opportunists who saw him as a big catch for business, it was too late to go back to Mai Charehwa.
She had moved on into mining and other businesses.
The train had already left the station.
“All I need is support with shows from promoters and also other established artists so that I can showcase my talent.
“The team I worked with on the explosive albums including our unique chanter Kudzanai Gwachiware is still available,” he said.
Gwachiware of the bhazi rapinda musimende (a rural bus has now entered the tarred roads of the city) chant on one of Manjokoto’s songs was rumoured to have died, but he is alive and features on his soon to be released albums.
The title of an album set for release in March, ‘Chimbondionaiwo’, speaks of a man who has been in the wildness for a long time and is appealing to the divine, promoters and philanthropists such as Wicknell Chivhayo to extricate him from his life’s struggles.
The hurt and struggles in the music industry have left him on the verge of giving up and try other things but the bond has been too strong to sever.
These days, the man from Buhera is in Lions Den where he is visiting his in-laws but has decided to look for shows in the farming and mining communities.
The world is replete with music artists, athletes and businessmen who have scaled the heights of stardom, only to fizzle out into oblivion or penury.
Some are victims of the unforgiving hand of the taxman, associated flamboyance, including catering for hangers on and slay queens that suck them dry before moving onto the next victim.
The proverbs “Look before you leap” rings hauntingly true for Sugar Sugar and so does “don’t throw away what you have in hand in a bid to receive what has been promised”.
Online Reporter