In a perfect world, Mufasa would have lived longer than ten minutes in the Lion King movie.
In a perfect world, Itai Dzamara would be home with his wife and kids.
In a perfect world, Michael Jackson would be here instead of Justine Bieber. Whitney Houston would be here so would Aaliyah, left-eye and Tupac instead of Miley Cyrus and One Direction.
In a perfect world, side chicks would be non-existent, because every single woman on this planet would carry a certain dignified and proud je ne sais quoi.
In a perfect world, a certain president of Zimbabwe would have been abducted by aliens and his wife institutionalized for cocaine addiction.
In a perfect world, I would be a gazillionaire and employ servants whose sole purpose is to hand me bacon and milkshake everywhere I go.
In a perfect world, Nicki Minaj would still be a mad talented, flat chested, underground rapper with a no ass. Instead of a mainstream rapper with more plastic in her body than a leggo factory.
In a perfect world, bond notes would be monopoly money.
In a perfect world, my bank account would be fatter than Rick Ross in 2008.
In a perfect world, I would buy my mother a mansion and she would never have to work a day in her life but live the remaining part of her life as pampered queen.
In a perfect world, Daniel Gore would be here. Posh Kudzai Mugweni would be here. Tafadzwa Assumpta Ndoro would be here. Celestino Ndoro would be here. Kudzai Ndoro would be here.
In a perfect world, I would have real conversations with my father instead of unrequited WhatsApp chats, desperate Skype request, lonely Facebook messages without a single response, voicemails…
In a perfect world, Eminem would be black.
In a perfect world, Zimbabwe would be the richest country in Africa. A nation with a high sense of aggressive entrepreneurship skills as Nigerians, cultured as South Africans, meek as Zambians, carefree as Angolans and endearing as Sierra Leoneans. A nation of gentlemen. A nation of queens.
In a perfect world, this nae-nae, dab, pants dropping generation of kids would be wiped out by the English plague of 1666, before they fast track us to the zombie apocalypse.
In a perfect world, my enemies would have front row seats to my unending success before they slit their wrists from bitterness.
In a perfect world, the girl with the fraudulent Brazilian weave would actually realize that her real Kunta Kinte hair is waaaaaay better.
In a perfect world, I could walk around in a micro mini and not a single person would bat an eye-lid.
In a perfect world, people who publicly announce that they hate peanut butter, avocado and sadza would be arrested and then pardoned for temporary insanity.
In a perfect world, strutting around in heels, kneading dough, squatting for that hug from my son and of course my unbelievable mad sex skills would earn me a spot in the fitness team.
In a perfect world, watching ‘Keep Up with The Kardashians’ would result in loss of a considerable amount of brain cells.
In a perfect world, Malik would have an older brother named Malakai.
In perfect world, Eminem, Nas, Jay Z, J Cole, Big Sean and Tupac would make a mad collabo with Usher murdering the hook and bring Armageddon upon in the Rap and Hip-Hop world.
In a perfect world, Lil Wayne would not be a name of a rapper but a toddler ride at an amusement park.
In a perfect world, Africa would have built Africa, not Europe, not America… just AFRICA.
In a perfect world, m a k a I t a h r o g u e would be a household name worth billions.
In perfect world, this hideous FUPA would translate to ass.
In perfect world. In a perfect world. It’s a perfect world because I am in it.