Spare a thought for MC Villa: His return, and his admiration for Jah Prayzah

HE WAS the poster child of the new millennium.

And after the national broadcaster, through the 75 percent local content policy gave rise to the birth of new locally bred celebrities, he rose and became a creator of anthems that endeared him to more than enough fans if ever there was such a thing.

MC Villa, with anthems such as “Unodzoka Here (Tendai)”, “AKA Dzoka Mudiwa” alongside songbird Priscilla, created ironically the best anthem for the new millennials who were fleeing economic shrinkage and going to foreign lands to seek better opportunities.

“Will you come back Tendai?” his love interest in the song sings melodically and he assures them that he certainly will return home with love and hopefully better finances to live the dream fairy-tale life.

So too did he pen the UB40 inspired “Huya Unditore”, from the “Here I am Baby (come And Take Me)” mantra. It was a hit on fire.

Then as if life would imitate art, MC Villa, real name Tendai Marukutira, was then also forced to relocate to countries in the region, at one time taking his dreams, hopes and aspirations to neighbouring Mozambique in his odyssey.

But he is not the MC Villa that we encounter in the flats of high density Mbare when we make the sojourn to his neck of the woods. True to his words in the song, he did return, but only a pale shadow of him.

There is one thing beautiful about MC Villa. He still has his optimism. An optimism that had him stubbornly declare in the song that he would return. But perhaps that is the only thing that he still has from the person that he was.

He is a pale shadow of the ghetto hero that he was back in the day. With many youth looking at him as a little god that they would one day want to emulate and take as their community musical role model. But don’t tell that to MC Villa. “Tell Jah Prayzah I am coming after him. I will certainly give him a run for his money,” he says as he breaks into a chant of the new material that he has been composing no doubt as he lies in the red-brick flat in one of the oldest ‘African townships’ as the colonial regime referred to them.

But to the community around him, MC Villa is a sad fairy-tale at worst and a chuckle for the sadist.

“He isn’t looking too well and many of these people are making fun of him and his fall from grace and fortune,” confides a person in the community.

“He doesn’t see that he has fallen from grace and if he does he is in denial. This is the sad face of the music industry. Another footnote in an industry that doesn’t help its own or ensure long lasting returns,” he adds.

MC Villa meanwhile is oblivious. With a childlike playfulness and a smile that melts even the sun, he is busy planning his comeback. But with no money to even be allowed three minutes on the studio’s couch, that seems like a pipe dream. That and the prospect that he will make a full recovery and return to making good music again; unless someone comes through to help him.

“I can be bigger than Jah Prayzah. I love mukoma Jah Prayzah and I respect his music but if I work hard on the material that I have I can do way better than him and give him a run for his money,” he says meanwhile.

People can’t help but look at him as if he is delusional. And that is hardly a good feeling.

Jah Prayzah is a colossus. That this little fellow in spent jeans, a yesteryear name and seemingly high on something other than alcohol can think of dethroning him makes many want to explore the functionality of his faculties.

MC Villa may well bounce back. But he is a constant visual reminder of a music industry that does not celebrate its own nor steps up when others are in need.

More damning, it represents a golden generation of young artistes who created names but no bacon on the table. A generation that was pushed out of their country by need. And many of these musical and artistic economic freedom fighters did not return alive. Some returned unwell. Others are still in exile. Hoping their industry can come to life again and absorb them yet again.

“It is sad that we cannot survive on our art,” says artiste Muchoni also from Mbare. “We should do all we can for people like MC Villa because we are stronger when we are united and we all are prospering.”

Meanwhile, there is a cold bitter wind that is coming in as the sun sets. Everyone is feeling it. But perhaps because the gods can see that he has endured too much suffering, MC Villa does not break out into the goosebumps that everyone else in breaking into.

At least, the gods of the weather still love him. Still feel for him.