The Sunday Mail
Leroy Dzenga
THEY remain one of Zimbabwe’s most romantic musical fairy tales.
It is a story about how three well-travelled teenagers created a base on which the country’s modern-day Afro hip-hop stands today.
The trio — Tony Chihota (Tone Capone), Herbert Schwamborn (Queeler) and Chiwoniso Maraire — was responsible for arguably the first hip-hop radio hit in independent Zimbabwe.
The story of how “A Peace of Ebony” was born is intriguing.
One afternoon in 1991, Chihota and Schwamborn were freestyling at Fantasy Land, adjacent to what is now known as Joina City in Harare, to test their mettle on the “streets” in front of a teenage crowd that made up Harare’s urban culture at the time.
The duo’s friendship had blossomed since their chance meeting while queuing for registration at the Christian College of Southern Africa (CCOSA).
Interestingly, Chihota had a Russian mother and Zimbabwean father, while Schwamborn had a German father and Zimbabwean mother.
While they were freestyling, an unexpected beatbox that perfectly fitted in with the tempo of their cypher came from the crowd.
“We stopped for a bit, trying to see where the voice was coming from and we saw this petite beautiful lady making her way to the centre where we were,” Chihota told The Sunday Mail Society.
Apparently, the voice belonged to Chiwoniso Maraire, daughter of Dumisani Maraire, a master mbira player and a repository of Shona culture.
Having been born in the United States and spent part of her childhood there, Chiwoniso had the right elements to soften the hardcore duo (Chihota and Schwamborn).
“We learnt that Chiwoniso was also a good singer and could play a number of instruments. At that time, we were still trying to get studio time. It was expensive, there was a big backlog, there were about three studios across the whole country,” said Chihota.
By chance, they got an opportunity to record with Keith Farquharson’s studio (Barrel of Peace).
Farquharson was then trying to pivot into a new dimension after his stint with super group Ilanga, where he played with Busi Ncube, Andy Brown, Adam Chisvo, Charles Mangena and Cde Chinx.
Having come from a trailblazing band, it was not hard for Farquharson to give the group, made up of teenagers between 15 and 17 years, a shot at glory.
“He decided to take a chance on us because he really liked what he saw. American rap was recognised, but as far as local went, we were the first to try going commercial.”
Their debut album, “From the Native Tongue”, which carried mbira influences, fast raps and Chiwoniso’s ethereal vocals, became a hit.
Their song “Pretend it Never Happened” was the breakaway hit from the 11-track project, dominating charts on Radio 3, now Power FM.
“I remember the first day we hit number one on ‘Hit Pick’. By that time, we were cruising around in a blue sunny box. We had entered the charts on a show called ‘Hit Pick’ a few weeks earlier.
“We had reached number five, our song was not there; it got to four, same thing; down to three, we were getting worried and we thought maybe we had been removed from the chart. Only for us to pop up at number one; we screamed in the car,” recounts Chihota.
Back in the day, topping charts usually meant getting show bookings.
“We started getting shows like ‘Star Brite’. We were invited as special VIP guests. We started doing a whole lot of things, including adverts.
“We were the first choice for any international act, like Beats International and Soul To Soul. We shared the stage with them when they came to Zimbabwe.”
It was not long until they caught the attention of Gallo Records in South Africa, who wanted to sign them after hearing their demo tape.
“We hit South Africa pretty fast, they sent down a professional video crew led by the hottest director at the time, Nick Hofmeyer, who came and did a video for one of our songs. Shortly after that, we hit South Africa to check out the record label and sign a deal,” he said.
A bad deal
Only Chihota and Schwamborn travelled to South Africa.
The Maraire family could not allow Chiwoniso to relocate to a foreign land without a support system.
Despite their music being well received in
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South Africa, they were introduced to the cruel side of the music industry.
“South Africa was great, they received us well, they loved our music but unfortunately the deal we signed was terrible. We were very young and we weren’t really that business savvy.
“We put our future in the hands of other people, thinking they had our best interests at heart, but they didn’t, so things went sour due to lack of business experience,” Chihota reflected.
“Our biggest mistake was not signing directly with the record company. We were convinced that signing to a local producer’s company would be better. At that point it made sense, but we didn’t know that it would play against us in future. The effect of the deal was that we were not privy to what was going on with the record sales and the record company.”
The deal later fell through and they were left empty-handed.
The world tour they had been promised before signing the contract did not materialise.
“We enjoyed the high life, you have to understand that is how the record label business went those days … When it was time to get your money, they would say where do you think money to pay for your plane tickets, hotels was coming from?” said Chihota.
A Peace of Ebony had been framed almost in the same way at the Fugees, as a globally marketable group.
“Not being able to go on a world tour for lack of finances destroyed A Peace of Ebony’s rise. They suggested that we came back to Zimbabwe and wait for further communication.”
To get by, they started performing at any available small venue in South Africa.
It was this day-to-day hustle that turned Chihota’s life for the worst.
“In the group, I was more inclined to Gangsta rap and the lifestyle, while Herbert was much disciplined. I think it is his German side. He is very precise still to this date.
“I was the bad boy. When I found myself at 17 (years) in Joburg and money was tight, I entered into the world of crime,” said Chihota.
While he worked to earn ‘street credibility’ with gangsters in Johannesburg, his rap partner was making strides earning himself a TV presenting role.
“At the time, my heart was being on the street, hustling. After getting arrested, and managed to beat my case, I returned home.
When I got back home, I closed the chapter on a life of crime,” he said.
He tried to set up a group called Blackfoot Tribe, while Schwamborn had his called Kataklism.
At the time, Chiwoniso was focusing more on the traditional sound, which would later see her become Zimbabwe’s most eminent mbira musician.
Drug addiction
Chihota struggled to adjust.
“I have always had a problem with addiction. In South Africa, it hit its all-time peak. I was now a dealer, so I had a lot of it and was always surrounded by women. So I was hitting drugs hard.
When I came back to Zimbabwe, there was a ready market. I was not dealing much, but there was always a party here, a party there and that became my life,” he said.
He lived in the fast lane for close to 15 years.
“I lost my credibility, I lost the fire. Whatever I was trying to do looked good, but as I look back, I was going astray.”
He became estranged from his family and friends.
For a while, he lived on the streets, moving from one party to the next, bingeing at every half chance.
It was not until a high school friend saw him and suggested that he change his ways.
“One of my former classmates, Brett Van Rooyen, who started Faith Wear, met me and we exchanged pleasantries. The next day he returned to see if I was really okay . . . I told him I wanted to leave the life I was living, and he promised to help me.”
Van Rooyen took him to church, where he decided to find his faith again.
He was determined.
“I was in no financial position to go for rehab, which was around US$500 for three weeks when I inquired. I had to lock myself in my room at home, reading the Bible and using self-help methods from the internet.”
Now 46, he has been clean for one-and-half years.
He has just finished writing a book, returned to recording music with his long-time friend Schwamborn under the name A Peace of Ebony.
The former childhood star, who was dazzled by the bright lights of showbiz, is now seeking to change his ways.
