Daliwonga won’t answer his phone

The age-old axiom “never meet your hero” should not be ignored. I have learnt that the hard way. I wish I could say my experience with superstar Daliwonga was magnificent, but that would be a big fat lie. It was nothing short of insufferable. 

The amapiano musician is deservedly all the rage right now, thanks to his spellbinding voice, fresh fits, and funky dance moves — and boy, can he pen a hook. His smash Abo Mvelo even has his naysayers dancing and has sealed his star power. Even Manchester United player Paul Pogba couldn’t resist the viral-dance challenge the song started. He’s a modern-day rockstar and the go-to amapiano vocalist on hits such as Banyana and Dipatje Tsa Felo. It’s no surprise that Daliwonga is getting the nod for favourite newcomer at the upcoming DStv Mzansi Viewers’ Choice Awards.

So, when it came to handpicking a star to front the cover of SMan for our Youth Issue, Daliwonga was a no-brainer.

Since I respect and understand the fact that he’s probably the most booked star in the country right now, arrangements for a meet with Daliwonga were made a month in advance through his record label, Sony Music Entertainment Africa. It was a smooth and painless exercise, at first. Soon, the official response came — he had confirmed and was excited to be part of the shoot and everything it required. I was thrilled and wanted to jump off the building — this was history in the making. To be honest, I was taking a chance, since I’d seen little press on his nascent career.

The one request from his team was that we make his call time 2pm. I always appreciate it when stars make their demands clear and create boundaries. So, that was granted — after all, our cover star had to get his beauty rest and be camera ready. His call time later moved to 3pm, at the request of the production team booked to handle his fashion shoot. 

Here's where it went south…

At 11am on the day of the shoot, we’re informed by the Sony team that he’s missed his flight from Cape Town to Joburg, but he’s trying to get a new one. Slight panic, but we can work with that. Around 2pm, we’re notified that he has still not gotten a new flight. At this stage, I begin to sweat around the eyebrows, but I’m keeping it together. A lot of energy, time, planning, and money has gone into the shoot, and our print deadline is looming. A few minutes later, there’s an update with great news — our precious cover star is said to be boarding and expected to land at OR Tambo at 5pm. 

The production team, consisting of makeup, grooming, and photography, agree to wait for him. After all, this is Daliwonga. (Mind you, they have been on set since 8am because we are also shooting the five women on the cover of SMag.) 

Personally, I’ve grown accustomed to waiting for prima-donna celebrities. I’ve had to wait for big stars such Makhadzi, Babes Wodumo, and Master KG, where minutes dissolved into hours, then days and weeks. That’s a part of the journalism craft that you rarely hear about. 

Many entertainment journalists have recorded chronicles worthy of a library shelf on how they have been disregarded in the same way. It’s unprincipled behaviour that has been made acceptable for far long — and it shouldn’t. As a junior reporter a few years ago, I recall waiting with another veteran reporter on a hot summer day in December for Rick Ross to make a scheduled appearance at a music-video shoot for Kwesta that was filmed in his home township of Katlehong. After waiting half the day with Kwesta, who was frantically on the phone with presumably the US rapper’s team, we gave up. Kwesta apologised profusely and it was heartfelt — I accepted his apology and went back home. Ross showed up later.   

Back to Daliwonga. When we ask if he has landed at 5pm, we’re bemused to hear that he has missed the second flight — and his phone is off. Thirty minutes later another update comes — he has landed and is on his way. More drama follows. At around 6pm, we’re told he’s 10 minutes away. Patience on set is starting to run out, so we begin to pester them for regular updates, and the same “10 minutes” excuse keeps on being given. By 6:30pm he has still not pitched and two suppliers, understandably, leave the building. 

He eventually arrives at around 7pm, looking as fresh as if he has just stepped out of the shower. He smells divine too. He flashes his bright white smile and his signature golden grills glimmer. He is everything I expected and then some. With his chiselled jawline, pertly trimmed moustache, and rock-hard abs, combined with his charm and charisma, Daliwonga wins over everyone who has waited in annoyance for him. 

The energy on set lifts. He needed little hair and makeup, his skin glows, and fresh waves are popping. When he’s put in the latest menswear threads, just off the runway at SA Fashion Week, Daliwonga looks the part. I’m so enamoured by him that I’d be lying if I said I remember getting an apology from him. I learn from his team that he’s from Soweto, has a twin brother, and is related to fellow amapiano vocalist Sir Trill. I cannot wait to get more from him in our cover interview. 

Daliwonga is easy to photograph and receptive to the styling, so by 8pm we have shot four looks with him and wrapped under an hour. After the shoot, we even take a picture together, which I can’t wait to share on my Instagram. He has almost gotten away with it, but not so fast…

A new nightmare begins. Since it’s late, I’m tired and can’t do the scheduled cover interview, so we aim for a telephonic. It’s raised that he’s flying to Tanzania the next day (Friday). We arrange to conduct the interview on his return the following Tuesday or Wednesday latest. 

Tuesday and Wednesday I try to get him on the phone, but no luck. When I follow up on Thursday, he’s unavailable and I’m advised to “send in those questions and we’ll get his road manager to ask him when they [are] on their way to gigs”. Gobsmacked, I decline and insist he finds time on Friday. Friday afternoon, now a week since our first encounter, he agrees to a telephonic at 4pm.

I get the message just 30 minutes beforehand, and eagerly call him at 4pm on the dot. The phone rings the first time, then goes to voicemail. I try again five minutes later, but the same thing happens. This time around I get a text from a Sony representative that “he’s asking for 20 minutes please…”. Out of desperation I oblige — 20 minutes later, the same thing happens. That’s when I decide to call it quits — while I still have a shred of dignity left. I laugh in disbelief and take a shot (or two) of Jägermeister. It is a bitter pill to swallow. I then play Coldplay’s Fix You — you can always count on Chris Martin’s soothing voice as he belts out “When you try your best, but you don’t succeed.”

Written questions are emailed immediately and sent to his team for him to answer in writing. The dreaded deadline has caught up with me and we have to go to print. I was chasing waterfalls. I accept defeat, humbled. 

Daliwonga, if you are reading this, I’m still a huge fan. I’m not mad, just disappointed. This shouldn’t take away from your talent — the world is your oyster and I’ll be delighted to see what you do next. We love your music and are proud of all your success here at SMan. I would still love to get that tête-à-tête — when you are free, let’s do coffee!

*At the time of publication, Daliwonga had still not responded to our emailed questions. Should he respond, the answers will be published on sowetanlive.co.za/s-mag/