Jimi Hendrix & Jimmy Page: Two Of A Kind.

Last week on the 13th, I saw a special, one-off cinema event that featured the English rock group Led Zeppelin. The band broke up in 1980 but got together again just for this one-off event in 2007 in London to honor the founder of Atlantic Records. I'm a huge fan of Led Zeppelin, even though they were way before my time, and I have most of their albums either on vinly or CD. But every time I hear Jimmy Page on lead guitar, I always have to ask myself: who's the better guitarist: Jimi Hendrix or Jimmy Page?

Jimi Hendrix was way before my time and passsed away in 1970 at the at the age of 27, but his music is timeless. For those who've never had the opportunity to see him in action, I suggest a (DVD) viewing of "Jimi Hendrix: Live At The Isle Of White". You'll never tire of listening to "Hey Joe" no matter how many times it's been played on the radio. Jimi Hendrix "reasoned" with his guitar, treating it like an errant child that needed to be reasoned with. As for "eating" his guitar and playing it with his teeth, there's no-one better for doing that than Jimi Hendrix.

On the other hand, Jimmy Page "talks" to his guitar, like a stern scholmaster giving his class a right telling-off! His guitar-play on "Kashmir" is brutal, and yet on "Stairway To Heaven" he's ever so subtle, right up to the final climax. I've seen lead-guitarists play the guitar with their teeth and their elbows, but only Jimmy Page had the arrogance to play his guitar with a violin-bow! The man's a genius, and though many folks will disagree with me, I have to say that Jimmy Page gets the nod over Jimi Hendrix -- but only by a whisker.

Ghana Shows The Way (once again)

A tall tale told to me years ago in the Gaborone Sun hotel, in Botswana, went like this: a Musarwa (Bushman) was invited by some Scandinavian do-gooders to spend the night in a hotel. They had heard many a legendary story about Bushmen and wanted to observe one up-close. However, in the morning, the Scandinavians were astounded to find out that their new-found Bushman friend had passed out and died in his hotel-room.

Apparently the Bushman had died of shock. The notion of of having readily-available tap-water was foreign to him, and so when he turned on the taps, and out came the flushing water, he was immediately overcome with shock and died on the spot!!

On Tuesday I witnessed (on Twitter) the Ghanaian I.E.A Presidential Debates, as the candidates went head-to-head, asking thought-provoking questions at each other, all live-streamed onto the Internet. The ease with which the democratic-process is practiced in Ghana is revealing. It's noticeably absent of the violence, opaqueness and buffoonery that exists elsewhere on the African Continent. For me it was totally shocking! On Tuesday, I was that "bushman in the hotel-suite", totally unused to the ease at which others conduct their political-affairs.

Where do our Ghanaian brothers succeed, where others fail hopelessly? What is it in the (political) water of Ghana that makes their political-process so much more democratic? Anyway, as for me, I was fortunately able to recover from my initial shock (unlike the Bushman in Gaborone) and live to see another day!

Mo Ibrahim Prize

Once again we're witnessing the embarrassing spectacle of the Mo Ibrahim Prize for good governance lacking a winner. I myself was always skeptical of how Mr Ibrahim, despite his noble intentions, could find a winner for his prize, year in and year out.

First of all,  there are 54 African countries of which only a handful (Ghana, Zambia, Mauritius, Seychelles, Botswana, Cape Verde) have progressed into fluid democracies, with robust, free-and-fair elections. The rest have not and are often ruled by aging leaders who resolutely refuse to leave their posts. That's why your average African President is a doddering geriatric in his mid-to-late 70s.

So, it would have been a stretch -- if not mathematically impossible -- for the Mo Ibrahim Foundation to find a candidate who met their criteria, year in and year out, given the "dead wood" of African leadership they were working with. If one handed the stats of Africa's leadership to an actuary, and gave him the criteria used for the award, he would probably have concluded that winners of the award would be few and far between.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with Mo Ibrahim's prize or his noble intentions. It's just that the "dead wood" of Africa's geriatric leadership makes finding a candidate who meets his strict criteria an almost impossible task.

Searching For Sugar Man

Yesterday evening I saw the movie Searching For Sugar Man, which was directed by the Swedish director Malik Bendjelloul. I had been intrigued by the hard-to-believe story of a down-and-out musician from Detroit, barely known in America, who nevertheless managed to be immensely popular in the Apartheid-era South Africa of the early 1970s. In fact Sixto Rodriguez managed to sell 1/2 million albums in the White-South African market of about 5 1/2 million people.

As the movie unfolds, we are told of Rodriguez' drug-use; his peripatetic existence; and his bizarre on-stage habit of singing with his back to the crowd. Having heard his songs, I must admit that his melodic voice does make him sound a bit like John Denver( strung out on drugs). And there is a deep melancholy about his lyrics. Two questions immediately came to mind: why didn't he make a move to California, where his folk-sound would have found a ready audience? And why didn't Americans catch on to his unique sound? Had he been under-marketed by the record companies? Or maybe, as a Mexican-American, was he "too ethnic" for the mainstream market? These questions linger.

Apparently, Rodriguez was totally unaware of his South African success and did not see a penny from royalties sent to his American record-label, Sussex Records. He therefore had to continue to work as a manual-laborer to pay the bills. But the story of Rodriguez doesn't end there. After being tracked down by his South African fans, he finally made a tour of South Africa in '98 and sold out six concerts. The concert-scenes in the movie are the movie's most poignant moments. Very moving! Very touching!

Zimbabwe: Bring Back The Leadership Code

I'm calling for the re-imposition of the The Leadership Code amongst all three of Zimbabwe's main political parties (Zanu-PF, MDC-T, and Zapu). We've just witnessed disciplinary action being taken by the MDC-T against twelve of its errant members serving as City Councilors, Mayors and Deputy-Mayors. Not to be out-done, Zanu-PF is engaged in one of its habitual factional imbroglios, as different factions square off to benefit from hunting concessions recently awarded in the Save Game Reserve.

Off-course, we also need an independent prosecution authority with teeth that can go after errant, pilfering politicians, but that's contingent on the political authority in place. What we need to do, first and foremost, is to bring back The Leadership Code -- the moral code-of-conduct which Zanu-PF itself adhered to from independence in 1980 until 1989 (it was quietly shelved in 1989).

This moral code was not perfect; some made fun of its provisions; whilst others violated its moral intentions from the get-go! Nevertheless, it did keep the brazen material aspirations of Zanu-PF bigwigs in check. After it was quietly shelved in 1989, all hell broke loose.

To check the brigandage that passes for political behaviour in today's Zimbabwe, it's imperative that all three of the main political-parties sign up to a new Leadership Code. This code would serve as a moral check on excessive greed. Absent of this, the brigandage, banditry and wholescale misuse of public resources will continue unabated, with all the main political parties taking part.

Olympic Moments

We're now a week into the London Olympics, and I thought I'll share some of my most touching Olympic moments:

(1) After winning the 100M breaststroke, South Africa's Cameron Van Der Burgh was received at the winners' podium by none other than anti-Apartheid stalwart, Sam Ramsamy. There we had a South African of Indian descent -- who did so much in the fight against the racial-injustices of the Apartheid era -- awarding a swimming Gold Medal to a White South African. Not only that, but Cameron Van Der Burgh heartily sang along as Nkosi Sikelela iAfrika was played . It was a touching moment. Hendrik Werwoerd (the architect of Apartheid) must have been turning in his grave!

(2) As a Zimbabwean I was proud that our flag-bearer at the Opening-Ceremony was swimmer Kirsty Coventry. By herself, she has won more medals than the whole nation combined; actually she has won more Olympic-medals than the nation of India, with its 1.2Billion people! Not only that, she exemplifies the multi-racial, multi-cultural reality that is modern-day Zimbabwe. Some people watching the NBC coverage on tape-delay would have thought that Zimbabwe was a "White" country, and indeed, comments were made to that affect on Twitter. But no, having a White flag-bearer is not even an issue in Zimbabwe. We've left racial-strife behind us.

(3) I must say, the team event in Women's Gymnastics was out of this world. The last performance on the floor-exercise by US gymnast, Ali Raisman, was herculean! She nailed all her flips and somersaults, and then on the last flip, she landed on her feet and then immediately vaulted into the air again, breaking into an emotional smile whilst in mid-air! Words cannot describe her performance. This truly was an Olympic moment to savor!

Whither The English Weather

When two Africans meet the talk invariably gets to African politics; when two strangers meet in England the conversation-starter is always the weather. With the Olympics only a few hours away I have to admit that -- like most folks -- I'm intensely worried about the English weather. Will  it rain incessantly throughout the duration of the Olympics? Will the beach-volleyball players compete in driving rain? After all, last month was England's wettest June on record. It rained non-stop throughout the whole month, disrupting the tennis at Wimbledon and the F1 racing at Silverstone.

You see no-one has ever made two-and-two of the English weather; it's neither here nor there. One minute it's sunny, the next it's grey and overcast. As for the English weather forecasters: forget about them, for they're about as useful as the economic statistics from Papua New Guinea!

I even have a pet-theory that the Pilgrim Fathers who left England for the New World in 1620 did so not for religious freedom, but rather to escape from the dreary English weather. They just couldn't take it anymore! Rather than be driven insane by the cold, grey, dreary English weather, they decided to save themselves by seeking out more pleasant surroundings to live in. And they found it, here in the good 'ol U.S of A.