After a failed or rather botched attempt on a shameful experiment which left me miserable and sweating. I woke up today discovering an email circulating from my Gmail account alleging that I was quarantined in Cameroon with Ebola. The fraudster is soliciting for USD 500 to cover my medical expenses. The news scared a lot of people and was busy the whole morning trying to assure my friends and family of my good health. I’m still trying to get control of my email in vain. However, when misfortune struck you whether by a deliberate willful act or by omission- You adopt to the situation - you accept the fate and try as much as possible to reduce the effects. Just as I prepared myself for the inevitable- I was struck with news on the death of my dear brother, mentor and friend, Raphael Mabvudzi. He died in the early hours of the day at Parirenyatwa hospital. My brother Dickson Matorwa broke the news. There may be varying opinions on Raphael Mabvunzi’s character but I guess like everyone else it depends on the level of interaction one had with him. There may be two schools of thoughts that may describe Raphael. Some may say, he was rude, Rough, mean and aggressive- vociferous to say the least. Whilst I may say Raphael Mabvudzi was a no- nonsense person, proud, assertive and progressive. I guess his case is the practical example of an adage “You can’t please everyone, unless you want to be a failure.” I may not be the right person to explain the variances in character perception; I will attempt to make my case for Raphael based on my personal experiences. I had always been an admirer of Raphael Mabvudzi his stature and outstanding persona always set him above the rest. Although he never went to University or College, Raphael was well read and took a keen interest on History, Politics and the economy. After a day of sculpting it was not unusual to find Raphael reading a book with an intellectual title such as “International Political Economy” by CJ Cohen, Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paul Ferreira. It was his intellectual fascination and hunger for knowledge which drew us closer and made us brothers. The first book I read titled the “Art of war” was given to me by Raphael Mabvudzi when I was just in my form two. As a big brother Raphael encouraged me to read, to trust in education to believe in myself- in a lot of ways he gave me confidence. He challenged my thought processes, questioned things I would not ordinarily dare to ask. It was indeed Raphael who inspired me on the art of building and presenting persuasive arguments. I remember, the essay he assisted me on the cause of WWl. My history Teacher, refused to mark my essay, he suspected someone wrote it for me and that the language I used was not mine. Raphael making an argument said to me, I quote “The Sarajevo assassination was not the cause of WWI, it was a stimulus to factors which wanted to play its role, and the broth was brewing before then.” Even when I was asked to explain this statement, it struck my history teacher because he never had thought of it, he was not thinking out of the box- his denial to mark my essay was simply an issue of pride. Raphael Mabvudzi was also known for splashing money whenever he make sales; I remember the time in 2008, when he sold sculptures at a cost of USD 55000 dollars. It made the whole community envious, it was a historic sale. Even, Raphael had no idea how to manage and handle this money- people suspected he developed mental problems emanating from confusion on how to spend that money. For him, he never thought that amount of money can get finished. Raphael found himself surrounded by peers from morning to evening all helping him to spend his finance! During this time, he built a foot-stone bridge for our community linking Old Tafara with New Tafara a gesture of goodwill to the community. I can testify children he paid school and exams fees for during this period of plenty. One incident I remember vividly was the time when he slapped Jarzeck AKA Jaro, for dancing on his brand new teak table. Jaro had spent his day at Rapheal’s place; he was drunk and got overly excited. Dancing to Buju Banton “Not an Easy Road.” The young man decided to step on top of the table and started dancing. Raphael, couldn’t take this- bewildered he stood up and shouted; ‘ Jazek uri kutambira Pai? Do you know this table is a brand new teak, proper teak; do you have an idea how much this table costs? After buying you booze through the day you have an audacity to step on my thousand dollar table? Immediately he slapped Jarzeck and he fell from the table. He called his wife, Mai Kudzi please bring me the receipt of this table. He showed it to me and asked “Retlaw, seriously look at this price, this is teak, how can someone get this excited, this is not just wood, this is teak.” It was my first time to appreciate this kind of wood, even my wife to date didn’t understand where the fascination with this furniture came from- It’s something I was taught and borrowed from Raphael Mabvudzi. Raphael was an advocate of black consciousness and supremacy. It was him who introduced me to a song titled “WAR” by Robert Nesta Marley. His favorite line from that song was “And until the ignoble and unhappy regimes that holds our brothers in Angola and Mozambique, South Africa, Sub-human bondage have been toppled, utterly destroyed well everywhere is a war,” Whenever he mimicked this song, a lecture on black supremacy, Steve Biko, Thomas Sankara would start! After David Jamali, Raphael Mabvudzi sparked my consciousness of equality, dignity for all and inequalities. I admit he was not a favorite of many simply because he would be frank with you on anything without fear or regard of your feelings. Despite having it in plenty or not Raphael was aware of his worthy. No wonder he would argue a lot with his buyers on the prices of his sculptures. Buyers such as Berry Schimper and Glen Campell always found themselves at the behest of Raphael salivating on his powerful sculptures. Eventually they accustomed themselves to know his works are expensive and you can’t just offer him peanuts. He would refuse to sell his works for a meager price of Jean and T-shirt. It is sad; to know that you are nomore my brother, may the living God finds mercy and care for his children. I pray for God’s Grace for his salvation. I shall forever cherish and celebrate the best of times we shared, the love you taught me and I’m still yet perusing knowledge as the fountain of life. My brother Raphael may your soul rest in peace and we shall forever miss you dearly. Retlaw Matatu Matorwa
Posted on: Mon, 25 Aug 2014 15:03:15 +0000
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