We all know keeping time is the most difficult thing, harder than buying a wrist watch.
But for some reason it becomes harder when one is Ugandan...
And this was no more evident than at the Afrigo Band concert.
It’s Saturday 6 Nov., I had just come back from picking samosas from Curry Mucherville, in Labium (oops! Ladium) when the clouds started pissing on my head.
As usual, at this time of the year, the spring heat of Pretoria was busy assaulting anyone who came face-to-face with it.
Then at around 4pm, the body count started, one-by-one heading into Rembrandt Hall Arena of the University of Pretoria.
As evident in the parking lot, all human interactions has been stripped down to materialistic components; big cars, crying blackberries, sounds of high heels pounding the medieval concrete... Ugandans know best to live!
It's a mixed crowd of largely the old faithfuls; some as old as the mighty band itself, who like it live...Hmmm! Who have never bought into the whole concept of Cd's... Think big!!
A scene of festive commotion brewing and for the organisers, the pulses start pounding; apprehensive as to what to expect.
But again a time to be "real men" and be ready to live with any consequences anticipated or real.
It’s also the fatigue that’s visiting on everyone who’s part of this: Dr. Lubega, Dr. Wasswa (Financiers), CharlesMugerwa (Director PAMATA), Julius Kyakuwa (Creative Director and Artistic guru-PAMATA) Ronnie Nsubuga(Sound and Light Engineer) and myself, publicity and marketing.
All the above, are highly talented and focused individuals apart from the last chap…
Even with the scores of events I have been part of, Afrigo tour was on another level. I am already, tired and exhausted.
It’s a 16-band member (oops! the other way other round, member band), who have been in the business of show business for over 30 years.
Surely, such guys know what they want. How the stage should be set-up. They are clued up on what to do… They have been there and done it all.
But this is a virgin territory, a new place never seen before. It’s South Africa, the United States of Africa and the Europe of the black continent and the UN crime capital.
A place where partying, clubbing and having a good time is woven in every inhabitant. The most favoured country on the continent by international artists and bands.
For those who had not bought their tickets earlier, the raids on the wallets is about to begin; and it’s not a cheap concert for sure.
But as the clock ticks to the final hour of the start, the initial joy is fading, it's panicking…real challenges kick in.
Computicket, the guys charged with selling and issuing of door-tickets are nowhere to be seen. Bloody idiots!
The guys charged with catering are also no where in sight. Some hungry revellers are seen chewing cud, while others sucking their thumbs.
I quickly set up a canteen behind to try capitalise. I had my samosas and mandazi ready. I had gotten my microwave from the house.
I asked friends (Emmy, Tendo and Winnie) who had not yet arrived to come with some drinks and snacks. We will make a killing, I suppose. They responded on time and there we were doing it like typical immigrants.
But guys are hungry and thirsty and while being part of the organisers, I am ready to walk around with a basket full of drinks and and snacks.
They are waving placards like "We need a drink to enjoy a concert" and others "My wife refused to cook me last night, I will eat some one else"
More questions hover for the organisers: What next, shall we pull this off and the big one “Will Afrigo mirror Juliana (graveyard thriller) who so many Ugandans in South Africa loathe/hate for her terribly poor performance”
Surely, the night is further from over. No time to relax.
It's exactly 8pm and the show is underway. I bounced/clapped/sang and cheered in my seat while scrutinizing every aspect of the show.
But the crowd is too distant from the band. It's easy to see the space between... not how bands are supposed to play out.
Pretty much every track they played sounded ace, but in particular Obangaina by Rachel. The guys are busy nailing the crowd.
Everyone of the dream chasers seems alive and twilighting. Carnage on the dance floor.
As usual, cash is thrown on the stage. One gentleman asks for a song "Man U (Manchester United) and tags R500 on it. Its played out.
But many also considered the hall as not the best for a live band. The musicians apparently like to be this close to their audience, too.
They argued that "The proximity of a huge surging crowd apparently has a galvanising effect on the finest musicians. It makes them play out their skins"
Concert goers need to feel that hurricane blasts of noise from the sound of guitars to accentuate showmanship.
But it's 2 hours into the show and although the VIP is overflowing, the numbers on the dance floor are not a good count! Where are the rest?
Word has it, a large section of the community live a cockroach life. Night-owls who think and act best in the night.
So starting a concert at 8pm is way too early for them. Most of them want it at least at midnight...What? Yes, around 12...!
Most of these are the witch doctors who by-the-way are more reliable spenders and likely to fire-up any flagging show.
Others are astute smart entrepreneurs who run their own businesses and truth be told, have some how made it by all accounts.
They might not have the best name, but at least they do possess the most cash and the more time.
The end is nearing. Security is getting ready to clear the arena.
And alas, at 10:30pm, the show is done... a sort of premature ejaculation.
The white man who owns the venue and part of the agenda, needs go home, so shd black man with the exception of the guard.
I am given a few minutes to announce the after-party at Just Cuban, Hatfield. DJ Mark is busy the other sidegetting ready to slaughter anyone who gets close to him.
But outside the venue, hundreds of faithfuls were queueing to enter... and it's coming to 11pm.
And the question is "Whats wrong with Ugandans and time keeping?
Some were holding manuals with common titles like "101 ways of getting into festivals for free" and others just seemed lost.
They cry foul... Some complaining why the so called professionals venture into areas they don't know.
It's clear, the happy and satisfied are glowing while the rest look dejected.
The after-party with Afrigo's presence was so packed and good that its possible it assuaged some peoples' anger.
Bottomline: While the band played to a crowd of 427 people, for 2 and half hours non-stop, the venue was a wrong choice. Security was overhyped. Ambulance was not needed.
Cheers!
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