I need to tell you something that most people in the Zimbabwean music industry will not say publicly. The way our music gets funded is broken. Not just inefficient. Broken in a way that actively holds us back from achieving what Nigeria and South Africa have achieved.
This is Part 1 of a series where I break down who really funds music in different African countries, what works, what does not, and what Zimbabwe needs to change. I am writing this as someone who has been on multiple sides of this equation. I have funded artists. I have been funded. I have lost money. I have made enemies. I have learned.
The Nigerian Model: Yahoo Boys as Patrons
Let me start with something controversial. Nigerian music journalist Joey Akan said it plainly: "Afrobeats Hall of Fame will never be complete without honourary mentions to Yahoo boys who funded and kept alive an industry with no institutional or corporate funding."
He is right. And here is why it worked.
In Nigeria during the 2000s and 2010s, young men who made money through internet fraud became unexpected patrons of the arts. They had cash. They wanted clout. They funded music videos, bought studio equipment, bankrolled albums. MI Abaga, one of Nigeria's most respected rappers and label executives, admitted on a podcast: "You're more likely to get money from a Yahoo boy than from any Nigerian bank."
But here is the critical part that Zimbabwe missed. The Yahoo boys wanted one thing: to be associated with success. They wanted to be seen at parties with artists. They wanted their names whispered in certain circles. What they did not want was creative control.
They did not demand to appear in music videos. They did not insist on shoutouts in every song. They did not try to direct the music. They funded, they flexed, and they let the artists create.
The result? Nigerian artists had resources without strings. They could experiment. They could fail and try again. They could develop their sound without some sponsor breathing down their neck about what the lyrics should say.
Wizkid, Davido, Burna Boy. The generation that put Afrobeats on the global map came up in this environment. Dirty money, maybe. But clean creative freedom.
The South African Model: Actual Industry Infrastructure
South Africa took a different path. They built something closer to a real music industry.
Labels like Kalawa Jazmee, Ambitiouz Entertainment, and Open Mic Productions created professional structures. Artists signed deals. They got advances. They had A&R people giving direction. Yes, many of those deals were exploitative. Yes, artists complained about contracts. But there was a system.
More importantly, South Africa developed revenue streams that did not depend on patrons. The DJ culture created a club economy. Amapiano did not need rich benefactors because DJs were making money from gigs, and that money flowed back into production.
When Tyla won a Grammy, she was not thanking some prophet or businessman who funded her career. She came up through a system, flawed as it was, that could produce and export talent at scale.
The key difference: South African artists made music for audiences. Nigerian artists made music for audiences. The money followed the music.
The Zimbabwean Model: Patronage Culture
Now let us talk about home.
Zimbabwe's music industry collapsed alongside the broader economy in the 2000s. The infrastructure that existed under Gramma Records, which gave us Thomas Mapfumo and Oliver Mtukudzi, fell apart. Studios closed. Distribution networks disappeared. The formal industry died.
Into that vacuum stepped a different kind of funder: prophets, politicians, diaspora businessmen. Mbingas.
Chillspot Records became the centre of Zimdancehall, and for a while it worked. Artists got studio time. Riddims got produced. Music came out. But the model had a fundamental flaw that would eventually poison everything.
The people funding the music were not content to stay in the background. They wanted to be the story.
The Passion Java Case Study
I need to talk about Passion Java specifically because I was directly involved in one of the most public situations of that era.
Passion Java rose to prominence in the music scene through Chillspot and the riddim system. He had money. He spent it on artists. He appeared in music videos. He funded productions. For a moment, it seemed like maybe this was Zimbabwe's version of the patron model.
But there was a crucial difference from the Nigerian Yahoo boys. Passion Java did not want to fund music quietly. He wanted to be celebrated in the music. He wanted shoutouts. He wanted to be seen as the kingmaker, not just a supporter.
This is where I enter the story.
When Enzo Ishall released "Uri Kutsvireiko" as his first single under Teemak Promotions, I heard the final version and there were shoutouts to me in it. "Big up Teemak" and similar lines. I immediately told him to remove them.
This was not ego. This was principle. I did the same for every project I sponsored, including work with EXQ and the Tocky Vibes track "Wakatemba" in 2020. When I fund music, I fund the music. I do not need my name in the lyrics. I do not need to appear in the video. The artist's success is the return on investment, not public praise.
When Enzo left Passion Java's camp to sign with me, Passion threatened to sue. But here is what Enzo told me at the time: there were no legal documents between him and Passion. The threat to sue was performance. It was clout chasing. It was about maintaining the image of control rather than any actual contractual relationship.
That situation taught me something important about how patronage works in Zimbabwe. The mbinga does not just want to fund success. The mbinga wants to own it. To be seen as the reason for it. And that need for credit corrupts the entire relationship between money and music.
The Pattern Repeats
Look across the Zimbabwean music landscape and you see this pattern everywhere.
Artists cannot just make music. They have to navigate relationships with funders who want creative input they are not qualified to give. They have to include shoutouts that break the immersion of their songs. They have to appear grateful in public even when the "support" comes with strings that strangle their artistic development.
The mbinga wants a return that is not financial. They want status. They want to be praised. They want the artist's audience to see them as generous and powerful. And so the music stops being about connecting with listeners and starts being about satisfying sponsors.
This is why Zimbabwe struggles to export music globally. When your song has to stop every few bars to praise some local businessman, it does not translate to international audiences who have no idea who that person is and do not care.
What We Actually Need
In Part 2 of this series, I will examine specific labels and management structures that have tried and failed in Zimbabwe. Military Touch Movement. Chillspot's decline. Nash TV's success and challenges. My own Teemak Promotions and why it did not continue. The patterns of collapse.
In Part 3, I will look at what is actually working. Bridgenorth Music with Sylent Nqo. ZERO 53 and their roster. Master H's approach. The models that might point toward a sustainable future.
But let me leave you with this thought.
Zimbabwe does not need more mbingas. We do not need more prophets funding music videos so they can appear in them. We do not need more businessmen buying influence over artists in exchange for studio time.
We need investment that respects artistic autonomy. We need funding that is patient enough to let artists develop. We need people who understand that the return on investment in music is the music itself reaching audiences, not shoutouts and public gratitude.
Until we fix the incentives, we will keep producing talented artists who never reach their potential because they are too busy managing patron relationships to focus on their craft.
Nigeria understood something important. Fund the art, not your ego. Let the artists create. The glory comes from association with success, not from demanding credit for it.
Zimbabwe's mbingas have not learned that lesson yet. And until they do, or until we find a different model entirely, we will keep watching from the sidelines while other African countries win Grammys and fill stadiums worldwide.
This is my perspective as Taona Oswald Chipunza. Someone who has tried to do it differently, who has failed in some ways, and who still believes Zimbabwe's music can reach the world. But not like this. Not with the current model.
Part 2 coming soon.
