The Really Bad Deal Concert

September 5, 2010 by Blessing Musariri ·
Filed under: I was just thinking

The Really Bad Deal Concert

Here are a few things we were told about the “REAL DEAL CONCERT”: it will start at 12pm with Urban Grooves Acts; Sean Paul and Akon are billed to perform, starting from 6pm; it will be a family event, bring your children; there will be adequate security and a host of other high-flying ideals that included sectioned VIP, VVIP and Golden Circle areas with perks and benefits.

My first question is, had the organisers actually studied the venue properly before assigning impossible designations and if they did know the situation at the venue beforehand, why did they not put proper measures to ensure that people who paid more, got more?

Believing the concert to have already started, I thought 5pm would be a good time to arrive. Imagine my surprise when I drove into town with my sister and a friend, to buy pizza, when I saw what looked like a major part of the show (the big screens), still hanging around the Meikles hotel along with what looked like the entire complement of the organising committee.

I was also surprised to hear on the radio that gates were to open at 3pm? What happened to the noon-day start? Okay so maybe things were a couple of hours behind time but if the screens weren’t even up at 5pm, what the hell was going on?

One thing I didn’t believe in from the get-go was the park and ride shuttle system, so I parked at a friend’s house close-by and walked. On arrival at the stadium shortly after 6pm, no one knew which gate was for VIP ticket holders, so after asking many equally clueless people, we climbed a steep hill and ended up outside a big gate (number 15) where numerous people were milling about the while others were in some kind of a queue. We determined that this was the right place, but hey? What was the hold up? A big lorry was also trying to gain entrance and as such, was posing a danger to people on foot waiting also to go in. There were many young men who boldly stated that they were going to try their luck once the gate opened to let the vehicle in and so there was much delay and several times the pressure of the steadily growing crowd threatened to overwhelm those who were trying to keep the gate shut. One and a half hours later, we were still waiting but, along with a couple of vehicles, part of the original crowd were now in the stadium – most of them without tickets.

Two hours later, after fighting amongst ourselves, grumbling to each other and cursing every car that drove up, tooting for us to get out of their way so they could go in, the ZRP dog section arrived and forced the crowd into a single line where-upon people gained entrance one by one, with a small delay to let in some arrogant bastards in a Hummer. This was not the best time I have ever had.

When we finally made it in, we had no idea where the VIP section was, we just found a likely spot and settled there. It was only when we went to look for a different bar than the one in our section that we were challenged and asked to show our tickets, by a young man, who then told us to go and get wrist bands at the gate so we could move around freely. At the gate it was unclear who was issuing wrist bands and so I asked a police man who pointed to two guys standing in two random clusters just somewhere near the gate. My cousin and I joined the cluster where-upon the besieged young man handed my wrist band to someone in the opposite direction to where I was standing – he had no clue who had given him their ticket stub literally 2 seconds after he had looked at me and taken it. There were hands outstretched all around him and plenty of chiface going on. By the time we told our other companions to go and get their wrist bands and moved to the proper VIP area, there was nobody checking right of entry anymore – it was a free for all. At this point I had to ask what the hell I paid $50 for?

This is what I paid $50 for:

- not to be squashed up front in the Golden Circle by all the people who paid one tenth of what I did

- not to hear anything that was being sung on stage because of the horrific echo from the speakers on the ground – whoever was doing the sound engineering should be shot!

- To watch the show on the sometimes uncooperative big screen

- To watch any old body climb-over or walk unrestrictedly into the VIP section

- To be squeezed tightly against some man’s clearly delineated genitals in the scramble for a six-pack of lukewarm Hunters Dry (where is a needle when you need one?)

- To use a toilet that made everyone pull up t-shirts and other items of clothing to protect their noses from the rank smell, making me resolve to not drink anything else so I wouldn’t have to return

- To have drunken hooligans rain half-empty cans of drinks on those of us below

- To partake in the second hand cloud of smoke from an industrial-size spliff and then watch the stupid antics of the two men who were drunk and high and consequently ravenous and rowdy

- To have to view all options of an escape plan should any one of the numerous fights that erupted (because people were bored and drinking too much while waiting) result in a stampede

- To watch in horror as a dead drunk man fell over onto his head down a couple of concrete steps

- To watch several parents rouse and herd sleepy children out of the stadium after midnight because it had become ridiculous to keep them there

- To feel a certain amount of shame and embarrassment when Sean Paul lost the sound on his mic and to wish with all my heart that I could hear properly what he was singing and saying when it was working, because he was doing it with so much love!

- To wait and wait and wait for Akon and then not to care so much when he finally appeared because the screen went out and there was no telling what was happening on stage

- To leave at 3 in the morning before Akon was halfway through because it was too cold and frankly I no longer gave a damn!

I really, really, wanted to go to this concert, and I am one person who is so big on going out. I was so invested in the accomplishment of having managed to lure two world class artists to our small, dry and lately shambolic country that I gave all the benefit of the doubt. I allowed myself to belief in the fantasy that Zimswag might actually know and were committed to what they were doing. I believed in the hype, I gave myself over to the promise and convinced people to join me. It’s all right to dream I suppose but the reality of the morning after is that Zimbabwe is not ready to give anyone, “the real deal”.

Tell the world: