I met Biko Zulu. Not in such a way that he knows me or sth, but I saw him. In person. Like in the flesh. The mystery behind him. Although, if you Google him, you’ll see his pics, but it’s not the same.
If you’re new here, I occasionally attend a certain rotaract meeting but because of school I’m not able to commit. (one day i’d love to join a rotaract/rotary club officially because I strongly believe in their course. Besides, I have no friends and the club activities would help a lot. I digress)
On the evening of 18th September I attended a rotaract meeting at one of these hotels in town. I went early, as usual. I’m always early for things. Everything. At 6.30 the meeting started and all the attendees to the meeting were expected to introduce themselves. In the kaintroduction, you were to state your name, profession and your thoughts on how you imagine Bikozulu looks like, because people barely know how he looks like. Thanks to Google, I had an idea.
The introductions kicked off and there were comments like, ” I think Bikozulu is bald…
I think he’s the opposite of what we all think he looks like… I think Bikozulu is an introvert…
On the other hand I was like,
” Hi everyone. It’s me, I am Bikozulu…”
Everyone, atleast those who heard my punchline, laughed.
When am I starting my comedy show you may ask? Soon my friend, soon…
Standing at the front, Biko wasn’t audible enough to everyone, so he moved closer to the crowd and stood among the seated audience. He stood less than a metre from me. If only I could touch the Hem of his garment. I’d probably be the best selling author right now and you know, a little bit consistent with my blog posts. A girl can only wish!
Biko told us his life story and how his first degree was biochemistry. Can you imagine Biko testing your urine for a day to day life?
Who would have been sharing such breathtaking stories on bikozulu.co.ke? Truly God works in mysterious ways.
He told us where his blog name “Bikozulu” originated from. How his father was a Pan-africanist and an admirer of Steve Biko, the South African activist, and in memory of his assassination on 12 September 1977.
One thing I took away from Bikozulu that day is that, as a writer, I shouldn’t shy off from expressing my thoughts because of what people will think of me. Like, you guys after reading this article, you’ll go about your daily business and life goes on.
So, this is me posting this story not shying off. I feel like this post brought out the real groupie in me. But aren’t we all a groupie to someone? Food for thought.
Sending you guys good vibes your way this wonderful week 💕
PS. sb from the audience had the audacity to say how she won’t be reading Biko’s blogs anymore because she’s seen him and the mystery isn’t there anymore. 🤦🏻♀️