Music review: Gwevedzi Redefined brings message of hope in crowded world

In an increasingly breaking, crowded and uncertain world of helplessness, Gwevedzi the Suitor Messenger strides in — confident, purposeful, determined.

There is something about the entrance that makes us stop and pay attention. Gwevedzi demands it, so that a hand here is compelled to pause midway through sending another sip of the mutoriro to the lips, another there putting down the straw through which the powder was to be sniffed into the nose, and yet another over there now clenching in a fist the syringe which had been poised between thumb and forefinger, aimed at a vein.

And Gwevedzi smiles a melting, understanding smile. No judgement, no condemnation.

The Messenger’s voice is lilting, persuasive: “We’re braver than we think, stronger than we know. We can overcome anything…”

The inclusive use of the “we” is not lost on us. Gwevedzi is saying unpretentiously, we’re in this together, yet seems so together, so in control.

Just who is this Munyai, this Messenger?

“I am HOPE,” Gwevedzi says, as if reading our thoughts. “I want you to Hold On, the Pain Ends soon.”

We are too stunned to respond. And for the next hour or so, Gwevedzi speaks.

We dare not, cannot, interrupt. There is a rawness about that voice, magical, fresh yet strangely familiar… almost. Underneath it, a thumping bass and drum combo beats our hearts and, from time to time, some guitar twangs its way into our heads.

Addictive, more addictive than these other things distracting us.

We notice the Messenger is wearing a hood and are about to wonder at this when suddenly the hood is thrown back, and Gwevedzi multiplies before our very eyes! In the front is The Voice, which had been seducing us all along and, on the flanks, several personages of various sizes and stature. In a stance, they stare and smile at us… and we are compelled to smile back.

“Rise,” The Voice says. It’s not a command, but neither is it a plea.

We have a choice, but do we? In our hopeless helplessness, could this be what we have been waiting for?

“I know there will be a time when you want to give up, when you cannot take it anymore; but remember…you have a dream to keep alive.”

This is true, so we rise. And then it comes back to us, that familiarity in the voice, Freshlyground-esque. Some years back, before Covid forced us into confinement, a similar voice had brought us this kind of musical therapy.

Similar, but not the same, for that was another time, another era. From down south, when some princess called Zolani Mahola and an outfit calling itself Freshlyground…

We are going to have to deal with that later. The figures flanking The Voice are clapping and whistling us into the next phase of this dreamlike experience.

We are transported into a dark space, which lights up as the Kamwenje throws sparks onto the bridge, accompanied by a bass hook that has us transfixed.

“Hakuna matata, kuungudza no more!” The Voice declares, almost triumphantly.

She and her mates seem to be enjoying themselves, enjoying the trickery they’re performing on us.

Everyone finds themselves nodding to the rhythm, swaying and clapping where they are seated. Presently, some of us are on our feet. We let go.

We have chosen to be happy, for we have found new strength, to let bygones be bygones. Somewhere in the recesses of our minds, we hear mama cooing, “Eehuhwee, nyarara mwanangu,” and we know there’s no point in crying, not any more. Then we realise The Voice is reminding us of mama’s care and presence.

We are in a theatre, in the park of a tranquil expanse of greenery, a garden open to everyone regardless of stature.

A man emerges on stage and we recognise him. This is Daves Guzha, theatre doyen, actor, producer, a creative native of Zimbabwe.

Source: The Standard Zimbabwe