German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche puts it that “one should die proudly when it is no longer possible to live proudly.”
This could have been on the mind of Lazarus Boora when he met his death at Westview Clinic in Zimre Park on the 9th of November 2020.
A famed actor who made his name as the lead actor in the Enock Chihombori written Gringo in 1997, Boora died as he lived, a beggar on a beach of gold.
A talented and versatile actor with a career spanning for more than two decades, Gringo as he was known by his multitude of fans died a broken man.
His was a case of fame divorced from fortune and even after being vocal about the lack of financial rewards in his chosen career, Gringo still died begging.
Spirited efforts by ‘good Samaritans’’ to save him from his ailment failed. For all his fame, he couldn’t even afford to take care of his own medical bills.
Gringo’s death closed the door on the Hall of fame of the 90s, masters of the small screen whose talent captured the whole country also loved in every home.
In Simon ‘Mutirowafanza’ Shumba, Safirio ‘Mukadota’ Madzikatire and Phillip Gadzikwa Mushangwe known to the masses as Paraffin and the recently departed Gringo the countries have all but lost the golden class of comedians ever to grace our nation.
If the current crop of ‘comedians’ wish to be in the hall of fame, then they have a lot of work to do.
While amongst them, there a few notable mentions the bulk of them are guilty of disguising dirty jokes, scruffy clothes and noise as comic talent.
It takes special talent to create the sort of chemistry that Paraffin had with Mai Sorobhi, or the naught plots of Mukadota, better still the shrewd tactics of one Mutirowafanza.
In Gringo, it was as if acting was redefined with all its elements, the natural nature of his delivery, the naughtiness on his face and the stubborn execution of his duties was a class of its own.
His friendship with John Banda, working relationship with Mbudziyadhura, his baseless jealousy influenced running battles with Toby also his love hate relationship with Mudhara Gweshegweshe.
His death marks an end of an era, that of comedians who lived way before their time, if only they had lived in this digital era then maybe their fortunes would have slightly matched their fame.
The class of the 90s is now confined to the thin walls of their six feet graves, not much space for a little comedy but their works live on.
Their superb delivery has outlived their time, they are still funny and well packaged, a true trait of legends of the small screen.
They lived and made us laugh for years, they might have not as proud as they must have had with their works but as Nietzsche puts it, at least they died proud.
If heaven was a big comedy stage, then the angels are in stiches. In all this, it’s heaven that has gained, surely God has a sense of humour.