adminLenox Lizwi Mhlanga
I think I owe some people an explanation and an apology. For the past few weeks, this column has been too “serious”, as one reader put it. There is too much of depressing news to be saddled with academics and sterner stuff. My response has been that people have to take me seriously. At least occasionally.
The serious stuff comes from my profession, which happens to be public relations. That is what brings in the money. My global audience must make that distinction. The second, is a question I am asked time and again when I am with my buddies. They call me Graffiks. And that is not misspelt either.
Why the name Graffiks in the first place? That moniker was self-coined. Call it a brand name, but it quickly morphed into a nickname. By normal standards it breaks convention. A nickname is, by definition, a short, clever, cute, derogatory, or otherwise substitute name for a person or thing’s real name.
As a concept, it is distinct from both pseudonym and stage name, although there may be some overlap. That’s the academic definition by the way. In simpler terms, it is the first name by which one is commonly called, differing from the formal name one is given at birth, usually belittling the person.
But as we all know; a nickname is not always flattering and those targeted detest and resist them. The more one resists, the more it tends to stick. I did have a host of uncomplimentary nicknames once. I was once called Lolo which was cute. It sounded like lollipop.
Then there was Leox after a variety of canned beef that the Cold Storage Commission used to produce in their heydays. Then “Lenyosi”, a vernacular translation of someone with an STI. Should I go on? The list was endless. The worst nickname I had was being called Mistake. I won’t even bother to give that one credence by explaining where it came from.
Anyway, I had the rare privilege of choosing a nice nickname for myself. The story goes… Once upon a time when stones were still soft (amatsh’ esancwebeka around 1985), I was admitted into the University of Zimbabwe as an undergraduate student. University was a blast with plenty of wine, women and song, flowing in its tree-lined avenues and hotel like residences.
Despite the distractions, I was determined to succeed as all of us were. At least that is what our parents believed. With a few exceptions of course. There were those who came to have a peek, like a former ZBC personality who I will not name (Lord bless his soul). That one took a lifetime to attempt his first degree only to give up.
And those who wanted to make a loud statement like former deputy Prime Minister Arthur Mutambara (once referred to as “tukitsi” by uKhulu Bob). Known for his “reckless” utterances about the government of the day. At the UZ we learnt that there was freedom of speech but Mutambara found out, to his peril, that there was no freedom after speech.
In the heat of the moment, we got together to start a students’ magazine called Focus. The team that formed Focus magazine included Tawana Kupe (now a famous don at Wits University down south) the late Lawrence Tshuma, Titus Moetsabi (also known as Moetsabi Moetsabi) a poet of note, Lovemore Banda (later of ZTV and ZimCricket fame), the late Thomas Deve. We were later joined by Tinoziva Bere, now a laywer, and Tendai Laxton Biti, yes, the very one!
This might come as a shock to some of you that I am (was) a gifted artist. I was roped in a designer and cartoonist. I also had a lucrative side hobby designing protest T-shirts. Someone had to do the artwork which included cover design, illustrations and, of course, the cartoons.
I wasn’t comfortable in revealing my identity. Some of the cartoons were quite acerbic. People on campus had the tendency of taking the law into their hands. And so, did state security agents. The Mutambara saga is testimony to the fact that we were dabbling in a hard hat zone.
I imagined an artistic company and what it would be called. Being a creative, I thought of how my first name, Lenox, could be disguised. Having been brought up on a diet of The Student’s Companion, it did not take me that long.
Lenox is from Leo, which means Lion. A lion denotes bravery and many other aggressive qualities. It was a misnomer because I was as soft as a kitten.
Never would hurt a fly at the worst of times, nor quick to anger. I then thought about appending the word “graphics” meaning illustration, but it somehow looked too plain.
On campus, I was a member (and later secretary general) of an organisation known as the Society for Afrikan Studies. We were decidedly pan African in outlook but labelled mbanje (marijuana) smokers by others. Zimbabwe being a free country, everyone was allowed to have their opinion.
Due to this influence, I decided to “Afrikanise” the word “graphics” and came up with Graffiks. Lion Graffiks became my signature and tagline below every illustration, cartoon and design that I produced. It was a masterpiece and it more than illustrated the creativity that burst out of me at the time.
However, my identity was not a secret for long. When the magazine was banned, because it gave university authorities sleepless nights, I continued to draw cartoons. I would stick them outside my room door. I was in the class of the late Moto magazine cartoonist Donatus Bonde otherwise known as DJB or Tony Namate, whose studio along Robert Mugabe Avenue in Harare I often paid a visit.
I would enjoy listening to comments and laughter as a steady stream of students ogled at the latest caricature. Some thought I was crazy. The nickname lived way beyond my varsity days when it also became my soccer name. I was a defender of note, packing a wicked tackle for Burning Spear Football club in the University Soccer League. My teammates shortened my tag to “Graffiks”, which in a strange sort of way described the way I ploughed into the opposition’s strike force.
To this day, my close pals particularly at Amavevane Social Club still call me by that name. I can attest to the fact that most are as amazed as you are about how it came about.
Online Reporter