CABU GAH DIARIES: Colonel Mustafa…The Lame Joke That Is No Longer Funny.

Colonel Mustafa,or just Mustafa,is one of the OLDEST,and by old I mean,reeaaaaly old,Kenyan musicians. He started off on the right foot…With the right partner…And then things went south. Pretty fast.

The first time I met this Mustafa fellow,It was at Rock City Gardens Kiambu Road wayyyy back in 2008. I was quite young then. And naïve. And a whole lotta things,too.

Now,there was a Bongo Concert at Rock City Gardens and towards the end of the jam-packed show, someone rode into the compound riding in a white limousine. It was a really long limousine…And really white and flashy and state-of-the-art.

The gleaming windows rolled down and a door was opened…And out came a very dapper Colonel Mustafa. He was dressed in all white,too. And, following him closely from the Limo was Authur K. Authur K used to be a TV Producer at NTV back then.

We were all smitten…And,hurriedly,we rushed and encircled the very long Limo, admiring it and fawning over the Celebs who’d just stepped off it. To be honest,I had never seen a Limo before. Neither had I seen Mustafa. And,by the way,He was really tall…Or so I thought.

But as were scramming around the Limo, struggling to touch it and peek into it,as we shoved each other all around it,almost falling into it and struggling to catch the attention of these celebs,stretching our scrawny hand to at least either touch or shake the hands of these superstars,the celebs spurned us. And told us off in the rudest way possible.

Mustafa’s security hauled us off the area…We were berated and blasted. And I remember very well,Authur K was particularly VERY RUDE and arrogant to us…He told us off,I wanted to say hi,He turned me away,we were ordered to step miles away from them,told not to talk to them and Mustafa wasn’t any good either. He was quite the star. And quite the cold,menacing star.

Rebuffed, we walked away. And kept our sweaty distance from these blazing stars…Who never smiled at a single of their fans. Or said any kind word. Or shook any hand…

And from then on,I was done with Mustafa. And Authur K,Oh,Authur K! And,luckily for me,being done with Mustafa was really a blessing.

Because, to be honest, it’s hard to be a fan of Mustafa. I mean, what is there to idolize in him? What is there to love? What is there to look forward to in a man with so little a talent and so pathetic a life?

Mustafa started off well…Doing those Monalisa jams with his partner-who,thank God,quit music-Nasty Thomas. Nasty quit music a billion years ago. And now lives in Dubai. Selling perfumes…I guess.

After the godsend break-up of Deux Vultures-which is the very tasteless name Mustafa and his boy had chosen as their band name-Mustapha has been desperately trying to remain afloat. And go solo…And it has all been in vain. Outstanding vain.

He tried doing singles…And,as the gods had planned,they all flopped. Disastrously.

He tried sparking off a scripted relationship with that other social media clown Huddah Monroe and the cards crumbled before they were even assembled. Poor thug.

He tried starting beefs with King Prezzo…But No,You do not start beefs with Tha King. Not when your greatest achievement is,errr,what again? Prezzo was-and still is-the baddest boy on the streets. And before the beef even started, it died down. Oh boy!

He was then kicked away from the ONLY home that ever accepted his minimally-talented self,Ogopa Deejays. And after no one showed any interest in signing this washed up joke,He crawled back to Ogopa who,because they weren’t doing any better themselves,took him vack. Because, misery loves company.

At Ogopa,He relaunched what he thought he still had-a music career. And there a billion dramas that followed the release of every one of his lukewarm jingles,which however salacious, still didn’t help his case. Or catapult him to the top he so insatiously craved for. Or still does.

And then he did Kupe…A song that really spoke about nothing and everything. And after listening to the song,we realized that it was better to be trapped in a bed full of Kupes that to press Replay on the song.

But before that,he had started dating that singer-turned-husband snatcher Marya and after a few years of a not-so-blissful romance,they broke up. Dramatically….as we had all foreseen.

And after very many stressful episodes in his very turbulent,lethargic life,Mustafa decide to do the very lukewarm Baby Class rhyme,Lenga Stress. And,really,it gave him MORE stress. And the rest of us. Poor listeners.

He tried it all…Even tried launching a clothing line with a name that sounded like a traditional herb in Lesotho. And,even before we bought the clothes,he’d abandoned the project. After realizing that the ONLY people who would wear that Loboko rag was probably himself. And the 3 people who coined that corny name.

And just when we thought he’d finally realized that he’s grown reaaaaly reeaaaaly old,and should therefore NOT just stop doing music but also marry, settle down and start a Youth Mentorship Programme in Soweto,he drooped yet another one on us. Called Dodoma Singida.

With a name that bad,and a song even worse,You don’t need tutorials on how really bad the song is about to do.

As for that,”C.I.D Officers arrested me as I was going to launch my song” lie,well,it should all be treated with the bullshit it deserves.

Because really,If Mustafa is going to be arrested over a song,it would not be over the women used in the song-most of whom look like failed farmers-but over the fact that he is STILL singing.

Phew! This kid just won’t stop. No matter how old he grows. Or how irrelevant he really really keeps becoming.

It’s a sad sad Friday….For a brother still trying to make sense…In a World that has long moved on. To people who actually have talent. And songs that actually have melody.

Son,Dodoma is where You need to be. Not here.

In the meantime,allow me to really spoil your long weekend…By asking you to click to this song. And watch it to the end. Apologies in advance.

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