Nitty Gritty

BAROLONG SEBONI | Friday February 26, 2010 00:00

It has been a while since the last Nitty Gritty interview. Once again the fellows of the oblong table have sent me on another assignment to find out more about the state of politics and governance in this continent of Africa.

This time they have sent me out to the island state of a sister African country just off the South Eastern coast of this vast continent. Once again it was not easy getting this interview. I had to deploy all my resources and networks in that small, neglected and sometimes unappreciated pool of entertainers called disc jockeys. To those who don't know what a disc jockey is I will have to start off by telling you what it is not:

* a disc jockey is not one who wears CD's as underwear. No, no!

*a disc jockey is not one who rides discs and races them as horses. Nope!

Now I will proceed to tell you what a disc jockey is by telling you what he does: a disc jockey is a man (more often than not) who spins the discs in such a manner that you would not want him to stop! He himself only stops when his bladder is full. I will then abbreviate this word 'disc jockey' so that we all know who or what we are referring to.

In short, a disc jockey is..... 'Thank you, thank you Mr. DJ! I love you all!' There you have it.

So I'm on this island and I'm waiting to see the First Citizen of the island, His Excellency DJ Rav, in his presidential palace. I am in the 'Temporary Waiting Studios.' All the dcor is of a penthouse with all sorts of international magazine covers on the walls.

On the other two walls are CDs and album covers from top to bottom. Right in the middle of the room is a life-size statue of Madonna wearing absolutely nothing except her music! I am intrigued by all this so I venture towards the receptionist's desk and enquire. 'Is that statue of ......?' And before I can ever conclude, the receptionist without even looking at me says; 'Oui, it's Madonna! We are hoping this will lure her to come and have her next black baby on our lovely island state!'

After a few awkward minutes of silence I then ask the question that has been nagging me since I got here.

'Why does that sign at the entrance read HANG IN THERE?'  Again the very beautiful receptionist in her French accent answers me courteously. 'Because you are in the 'Temporary Waiting Studios'. If you go further in towards your left you would be in the 'Permanent Waiting Studios' where the sign says HANGING FOREVER. There people wait with their necks stretched out. You sort of have to stick out your neck to be invited there. Sometimes nobody comes. Waiting there can be hell!' I started feeling my neck and massaging it softly, 'Well,' I said almost to myself, 'I guess I am where I want to be, thank you!' And proceeded to wait for the interview with HE DJ Rav.