The way sugar-coated tributes are flowing all over, in respect of the fallen artist, John Nyanga, you would think he died a happy man.
My very last visit to Izeki’s hospital ward was quite different from what i am seeing all over right now. the fallen artist lamented how he was in a state of lacking in almost every personal need, when he has helped various persons (including corporations and other companies) generate lots of millions. he even lamented how his fellow artists made sure they never stepped their feet into the dilapidated QECH Ward, avoiding setting their eyes on this artist, who they now claim to have loved.
“I feel that we Malawians, and Malawian artists specifically, don’t love each other. Looking at how much contribution I have made to my country, I didn’t expect to be in this state,” sobbed the icon.
visiting Izeki in his hospital ward was not without the usual drama. My colleague stood up and offered to pray as we prepared ourselves to leave, and so it was done. Immediately after the powerful word of prayer, the whole ward went into a deafening silence, as there was no one brave enough to leave first.
“Tsopano ndi nthawi ya chopereka,” Izeki broke off the silence. Everyone went into stitches. He extended his hand as “offerings” poured in. He made the atmosphere so jovial that one would wish they give all they had, for the true son of Malawi.
“Chopereka chonse chakwana 57 thousand kwacha and 20 tambala. kaya ndani amene amabwera kuno ndi 20 tambala yo? anthu muzikhalako serious.” concluded izeki, jokingly.
that was the last time i ever saw izeki, alive. Today, the son of Malawi lies on his last mile. I understand Malawian artists converged at 7am today to plan on the “special play” in honour of their fellow artist. This to me is an empty gesture to the hero who witnessed injustice of the first hand in his lifetime. Izeki simply put it, “I regret being Izeki.”
Bottom line, don’t scatter roses when I’m gone. Give them to me while i still live.