Food For Thought

The Local Pop Star

With a cocky swagger he strode onto the stage and shook his shoulder length dreadlocks at the multitude of demented fans. His self-satisfied grin increased the noise decibels, much to his satisfaction. Slowly, he lifted the microphone to his lips and shouted, "Gyemuli?" The screamed response, "Yee!" broadened the grin on his face to a point an observer would be afraid that his face would be split into two. He turned to the DJ and asked for track five on the CD he had given him to play. As the music pumped out of the powerful speakers with ear-splitting intensity, he broke out into a lyrical flow that was reminiscent of the Jamaican patois...well not quite, but he liked to believe it was the real McCoy.

The mass of bodies began to sway to the rhythm of the beat and wave their hands in the air as heads nodded in appreciation. This act invigorated the performer to new heights, his antics got daring as he jumped on speakers and waved his hands like a demented marionette, next throwing himself into the audience and almost having his clothes ripped off his body by a multitude of hands. He was saved by four kanyamas (bodyguards), much to his relief, but his adrenaline kept pumping through his veins like an illegal substance, sending him on a high. His performance climaxed to a dynamic crescendo that had his audience screaming for more. With a series of pelvic thrusts and uncoordinated gyrations, he brought his act to an end.

His name was Rasta Beenie Banton (or some such name), thee leading local pop star...or at least he liked to think that he was. His life was one performance after another, one party or another, one sexual encounter after another, one fight after another...you know the story. Oh, and in between he remembered to eat and sleep occasionally. Plagiarism was not unheard of when it came to him and a few others in his line of work. Wannabes worshiped him and tried to join his camp of performers; they also imitated his penchant for gaudy designer wear and elaborate jewellery in a poor attempt at looking like a 'gangsta'.

Rasta Beenie Banton also had an ego the size of Lake Victoria. When contracted to perform at a given function, he would swear to the high heavens that he would be there on time. but would appear hours later only to perform half the agreed number of songs (mostly in medley form) and wonder why he was being sued.

The man was incapable of keeping time or a commitment unless it suited him. He wasn't always like this...small time fame went to his head!