Olivia
Online
shepherd
@scherppy
Innovation, excellence and integrity never go out of fashion.
Joined June 2011
926 Following
840 Followers
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OFF AIR UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
Following complaints and behind-the-scenes lobbying by a disgruntled presenter, someone I worked alongside at Radio 3 back in the day, @classic263 Radio management has decided to suspend my show The #PyjamaParty and other diaspora-based programmes for now.
Firstly, I want to sincerely thank the Station Manager, Terry Mapurisana for the opportunity, the belief and the foresight to bring former Radio 3 broadcasters back onto the airwaves, even if only for 55 minutes once a week.
He understood something others clearly did not, that listeners still value authenticity, experience and the familiar voices they grew up with.
Sadly, that vision appears to have been undermined.
What began as a passion project to reconnect with audiences and breathe fresh energy into radio somehow became a source of jealousy and discomfort for certain individuals behind the scenes.
Ironically, the very programmes now being suspended contributed immensely to listener growth, online engagement and the station’s visibility, playing a significant role in Classic 263 Radio winning the Diaspora Online Radio Station of the Year 2025 award.
Yet instead of celebrating the revival of listener interest and the return of appointment radio, some chose bitterness over unity.
For the record, none of us were paid for these shows. We gave our time, our experience and our passion freely, purely for the love of broadcasting and the listeners who welcomed us back into their homes, cars and headphones every week.
It is heartbreaking when opposition comes not from outsiders, but from within.
To every listener who supported The #PyjamaParty and the other suspended programmes, thank you.
Your support reminded us why we fell in love with radio in the first place.
They may remove voices from the schedule.
But they cannot erase what those voices meant to people.
As always, my Friday, Saturday and Sunday shows will continue to be available on the Soul Shack Radio. YouTube and SoundCloud for those who miss the live broadcasts.
Godo rine ka blaz kacho kane munhu pasi.
@ED4TheNation You know nothing, please shut up. Why do you always sound like uri mwana waMnangagwa wemusango.
In 1942, the Japanese rounded up all Chinese men in Singapore.
They were filtering out the healthy young ones to execute.
Lee Kuan Yew was 18. A guard pointed at him and said: "Go to that lorry."
He knew what that meant. The lorry went to the beaches. The beaches meant machine guns.
He asked: "Can I collect my other things?"
They said yes.
He walked away, found his family's gardener, and hid in his quarters for two days.
When they changed the screening inspectors, he tried again. This time, he got through.
The ones sent to that lorry were taken to the beaches and shot. Somewhere between 50,000 and 100,000 didn't survive.
60 years later, he sat down at Harvard to explain how he built Singapore from a tiny island into one of the wealthiest nations on Earth:
On what the war did to him:
"We lived in happy, placid colonial Singapore in the 1920s and 30s. The British Empire would have lasted another thousand years, so we thought."
Then the Japanese came. In less than one and a half months, the British collapsed.
"Three and a half years of hell. Butchery. Brutality. Many didn't survive. I was fortunate. I did."
"But it changed us."
"What right did they have to do this to us? Why did the British let us down so badly?"
When the war ended, Lee went to Cambridge to study law. But he was watching with different eyes.
"Can they govern me better than I can govern myself? Because they scooted when the Japanese came in. And why shouldn't I be running the place?"
On learning languages to lead:
Lee was the best speaker in English. But only 20% of Singapore spoke English.
The masses spoke Hokkien, Mandarin, and Malay.
"So every day at lunchtime, instead of having lunch, I would sit down with a Hokkien teacher and laboriously and painfully learn to convert my Mandarin into Hokkien."
"Had I not mastered that, the battle would be lost by default."
His first speech in Hokkien, the kids laughed at him.
"I said, please don't laugh. Help me. I'm trying to get you to understanding."
By 6 months, he could get his ideas across. By 2 years, he was fluent.
"Believe it or not, at the end of two years I could speak better than most of them."
"That came respect."
It showed two things: how determined he was, and how sincere. Here was a man doing all these other things and still learning their language just to talk to them.
On fighting the Communists:
The Communists had been organizing since 1923. The year Lee was born.
"Here we were in the 1950s trying to beat them. And they are professionals at organization."
They had elimination squads. Guerrillas in the jungle. Killer squads in the towns.
Lee stood up and said no.
"They denied that they were Communists. 'We're just left-wing socialists.' So I did a series of 12 broadcasts to set the scene. And I made it in three languages."
English. Malay. Mandarin. 20 minutes each.
"When I finished each broadcast, the director of the station couldn't see me. Went into the room and found me lying on the floor trying to recover my breath."
"But it was a fight for survival. Life or death."
On where trust comes from:
"It's difficult to establish trust in times of calm. You just say, 'Well, it's an argument, therefore I'm a better guy than you.'"
"But when the chips are down and you can get eliminated in a very unpleasant way and you show that you're prepared for it and you'll fight for them, it makes a difference."
"Without that trust, we could not have built Singapore."
On IQ vs EQ:
Harvard asked him: would you prefer high IQ or high EQ in a leader?
"IQ, you can get beautiful paper done. Complex formulas worked out. Elegant solutions."
"But when you've got to get a team to work and put that formula into practice, you're dealing with human beings."
"If you're not good at EQ, you can't sense that A doesn't get on with B, and you put them in the same team. It's no good."
He rated his own EQ as 7 or 8 out of 10. His IQ as "maybe 120."
But he had colleagues who could sense a person instantly.
"He shook hands with the man and said, 'I recoiled when I felt his palm. Evil man.' And he was. How does he know? I don't know."
"So I learned whenever I had to do interviews to choose people, I would get people who are very good at seeing through a candidate."
On corruption:
Singapore in the 1950s was full of deals, bribes, and organized crime.
"When we took over, we decided that this was the critical factor. If we did not make it so that every dollar put in at the top reaches the ground as one dollar, we're not going to succeed."
"We came in and made a symbolic act. We dressed in white shirts, white trousers, and said we will be what we represent."
He put the anti-corruption bureau under his personal portfolio.
"I gave the director the authority to investigate everybody and everything. All ministers. Including myself."
One of his own colleagues took half a million in bribes. When the investigation started, he asked to see Lee.
"I said, if I see you then I'll be a witness in court. So best not see me. Better see your lawyer."
The man committed suicide. Left a note saying: "As an oriental gentleman who believes in honor, I have to pay the supreme price."
"It's a heavy price. But it reminds every minister that there are no exceptions."
On consistency:
Lee had three journalists analyze 40 years of his speeches.
He asked them: what was the dominant theme?
All three said the same thing: consistency.
"What I said at the beginning, throughout all that period, the theme stayed loud and clear."
"That made it simple. Because you know where you stand with me. And you know what I want to do."
On delivering results:
"We deliver the homes, the schools, the jobs, the hospitals."
"Today, 98% of our people own their own homes. The smallest would be about $100,000 US. The biggest about $300,000."
"Once you own that amount of assets, you are not in favor of risking it with a crazy government. Your assets will go down in value."
"But that was planned."
Why? Because Singapore is small. Everyone does national service. If you're going to fight, you better be fighting for something you own.
"So we give everybody a stake."
On changing culture slowly:
Lee wanted Singapore to speak English. But he couldn't force it.
"Had I passed a law and said you will all learn English, we would have had mayhem. Riots."
Instead, he let parents watch who got the best jobs. The jobs were already there, from the multinationals and banks. They all used English.
"They watched and saw who got the best jobs. And they switched."
It took 16 years.
"I did not want to have said 16 years. Because in those 16 years I lost 20,000 Chinese graduates who had poor jobs. I wanted to make it shorter. I couldn't. I would have run into flack."
On whether leadership can be taught:
Lee quoted Isaac Singer, the Nobel Prize winner for Yiddish literature.
Someone asked Singer: "Can you make a writer write great literature?"
He paused. Then said: "If he has the writer in him, I will make him a good writer in a shorter time."
Lee's version:
"Can you make a leader of anybody? I don't think so."
"He must have some of the ingredients. He must have that high energy level. He must have the ability to project himself, his ideas. He must have the desire, almost instinctively, to say 'let's do something better.' Of wanting to do something for his fellow men and not just for himself and his family."
"You can't teach those things. He's either got it or he hasn't got it."
"But if he's got that, then you can save him a lot of trouble."
On sustaining yourself:
Harvard asked how he managed despair over decades of leadership.
"If your message is one of despair, then you should not be a leader. You must give people hope."
"But there are moments when you feel very down. Either because you're physically down, or emotionally down, or because the world has turned adverse against you."
"When you are in that condition, the first thing you do is get a good night's sleep. Then get a swim or chase a ball. Get the cobwebs out of your mind."
"If you're not fit, you're going to make mistakes. Physically fit. You must stay physically and mentally fit."
In his later years, he learned to meditate.
"At the end of 20 minutes to half an hour, my pulse rate can go down from 100 to about 60. You can feel yourself subside. You still your mind. You empty your mind."
"Then when you are rested, you resume quietly. You still got the same problems. Maybe you sleep on it. Come back. Look at it for a few days. Then decide."
This 2 hour Harvard interview will teach you more about leadership than every business book you've read combined.
Bookmark & give it 2 hours this weekend, no matter what.
I googled the price of @MemoMakanika’s gadgets.
Over $10,000 worth of tools stolen,
from a woman who wakes up every day to FIX cars and earn honestly.
Not a politician.
Not a tenderpreneur.
A mechanic.
Zimbabwe will humble you.
You can do everything right,
learn a skill, invest in your tools, mind your business, and still get punished for it.
Because somewhere out there,
a thief just got promoted
and the victim got demoted to zero.
@PoliceZimbabwe please find the culprits.
This 1996 in the village working in the Chiendambuya fields and my dad telling me, “ I am going and when people ask, you say Daddy has gone. He has gone “.
I never knew what it meant that time until I was a grown man. The lad really left and we never saw him again for 17 solid years. Only came back when I was in university asking if we could sell some cattle so that we could fund his transport to come back home.
When he left, our mum was a hard worker. One thing for certain, she would afford us all complete uniforms and all fees fully paid. None of my sibling never turned back from school due to unpaid fees.
After selling our grains, mum would sell paraffin, sugar, etc in the surrounding areas to supplement one-time cheques from GMB.
Unfortunately my dad passed on, but I had forgiven him and was looking after him.
I then relocate to Cape Town after my dad’s demise, for almost a decade I have been there.
Opportunity came to relocate overseas and thought to go see mum, a mistake I won’t forgive myself! I arrive at my mum’s shop, she had deserted our rural homestead eversince the passing on of my dad. A lot was happening. So I get there, mum seems a bit reserved and unfriendly, but would gladly introduce me to everyone in that area she was staying.
Then 1 June came, she has to go church conference for a duration of 7days. I expected her arrival on the 8th latest but she never came. Phoned my sisters, they all said they didn’t about her whereabouts.
I lost hope for her return. 30 June early evening, I hear some footsteps and thought there could be thieves since she shop was located at a secluded place. The footsteps gets straight to the door and I ask who it is, “ndini” I reckon it’s mum voice. Before I open the door, and mum sprinkles anointed water to my face, the whole shop, then outside. No greetings at all.
I get shocked, someone who has been away for a month comes back home in that manner? Eventually she walks in and sits down, “makasara zvakanaka here”? I knew what it meant, counted $420 profit realized during the she wasn’t around. I had restocked. Inga makashanda chaizvo, she smiled.
In few minutes of dead silence, I decide to brush teeth and go to bed as I had a journey to Harare the following morning. When I get back, she’s already in bed.
00:12 I then woke up to her sleep talk cum-bembera later. It was scary that I had to go wake her up, “ndisiye! Nhasi hapana chinosara. Uri kuda kundiurairei? Kuda kunditorera shop yangu. Ndakamiswa nema profita 10 kumusangano zvikanzi amai mwana wenyu muroyi, ari kuda kutokuurayai”
All I could do was to quietly record and send to my cousin brother. We then never slept until 4am when I left for Harare.
When I came back, my mum was gone. It’s been years, I haven’t spoken to her or even know where she stays. My sisters know where stays, but they don’t want to tell me. They too have gone quiet.
I then went back to the village, found her kitchen fallen, toilet fallen, main house windows broken.
Without any pot or cutlery, I began until my flight day came. My wife’s uncle took me to the airport, but it is well.
It’s strange, but I do not think I will want her in my life again.
I wish I could be giving her rest, get her nice houses.
We later learned that she didn’t want me to go overseas, but hoped that my eldest sister would. I am the last born in a family of 4
First time opening up!
Lone Ranger life
Good evening.
I hope you are all having a fantastic Sunday.
@thenihiin Hello
@bayobets Hello
Please Repost as only 4 people will see this as X shadow blocks posts that include links 🙏🏽
It's Saturday the 28th of March, 2026 already?
Aish! Where is the year rushing to, yoh.
Anyway, The Beat Goes On on The Pyjama Party on @classic263 Radio with Yours Truly.
Join me at 7am-8am UK (9am-10am CAT Zimbabwe) on FM in Zimbabwe and on the https://t.co/1F5GywzpfV Listen Live' and on the Soul Shack Radio YouTube channel: https://t.co/SLp2sm1wkm
Today we have some rare Soul grooves on the decks. The second half of the show is top heavy on the brand new Soul releases for 2026. I have a feeling you are going to love them at first listen.
We go through great lengths to screen our playlists for AI generated "ghost" music. We will NEVER play AI generated 'music' on the Pyjama Party ,nor on all Soul Shack Radio programmes. #PasineAIMusic
Studio at Backyard Soul Shack: +447871329407
Pockets Hill Harare: +263719498651
WhatsApp messages
Everyone here looks like they’re closing deals.
I opened my laptop just to blend in.
Real work is on my phone… arguing on X 😭✈️
We almost ended up with a wedding feast and NO guests.
Hwange. 2001.
Faith was high.
Logistics in ICU.
Sabbath 28 July.
It was like we didn’t exist.
No announcement. No acknowledgement. Nothing.
Meanwhile, I’m out there with relatives,
Looking for a whole cow. 🐄
Yes. A beast.
In our setup, no beast, no wedding.
Village to village like desperate cattle detectives, no cow.
Everyone said the same thing:
“Short notice? Not possible.”
We came back empty-handed.
Now imagine this:
Food planned
Pots ready
Firewood stacked
But 80% of guests banned by church politics.
We were about to host the most well-catered private wedding of two people. 😭
Sunday 29 July:
Plan B became Plan Everything.
A “now-now” wedding committee formed.
No training. No budget. Just vibes and determination.
People assigned themselves roles:
“You, cooking.”
“You, usher.”
“You, just stand there and look important.”
Transport? Another disaster loading.
Then miracles started trickling in:
One friend: “Take my Kombi, just put fuel.”
Choir bus: 25-seater unlocked
Two elders: “We’ll carry the bride and groom”
Suddenly, logistics started behaving.
But me?
Still no suit.
No shoes.
Just vibes and prayers. 😭
Tailor kept saying:
“It’s coming.”
Coming from where? South Africa by donkey??
Plan B:
Edgars.
They looked at my account and said:
“Brother, even faith has limits.”
Final Option: Topics.
Enter: Ella Mutipa.
Hwange High legend. My cousin’s school crush but he never developed the guts to shoot his shot.
Died a natural death.
I walked in desperate.
Explained everything.
She looked at me, probably saw stress + poverty + wedding panic.
She said:
“Let’s make a plan.”
She risked her job and approved the suit.
First suit I saw - done.
Not time to waste.
At this point, even if it was purple with glitter…
I was getting married.
Meanwhile,
Beast still missing. 🐄
Wednesday:
Beast secured.
But only available Friday.
Two days before the wedding.
Friday 3PM
I personally went to slaughter the beast for my own wedding.
Because at this stage…
Trust issues had entered the chat. 😭
Sabbath 4 July.
We skipped church. Exhausted. Broken. Done.
Meanwhile at church?
WAR.
An elder stood up:
“How do you close service without mentioning this wedding?”
Boom.
One after another, members stood up.
Holy ground turned into a complaint department.
By evening?
The entire church was at my house.
Same people who were “not allowed”…
Now saying:
“Sit down. We’ve got this.”
And they meant it.
Mrs Phunyuka (RIP) & Mrs Ncube a.k.a na Kevin, took over like seasoned generals.
Cooking. Planning. Commanding.
Outside?
Singing. Dancing. Rehearsals till midnight.
That night,
I saw what real Hwange Sda church community looks like.
Sunday 5 August:
Wedding day.
We arrived early, almost alone.
Then slowly,
The place filled up.
Edmund Davies Hall - packed.
Not just full.
Electric.
Ululation.
Dancing.
Elders with two left feet leading the charge. 😭
It was chaos.
It was joy.
It was unforgettable.
That “rebel committee”.
Delivered one of the greatest weddings Hwange had ever seen.
And just like I promised:
We got married.
With or without Mfundisi.
Sometimes the people who block you, accidentally reveal the people who will carry you.
Have you ever been written off, only to come back stronger?👇
@scherppy I had compromised a lot already to conform but it was still not enough for Umfundisi. So I was like “fokolo Mfundisi”.
@sawnee0507 You encouraged me to turn my stories into poems. This is for you. Hope you will like it.
“We Will Still Wed”
May came dressed in quiet hope,
Plans laid out, a careful scope.
Elders gathered, heads all wise,
A wedding formed before our eyes.
No alcohol, just hymns and grace,
A holy sound to fill the place.
I brought my songs like schoolwork due,
They stamped “approved”, I thought it true.
But life, as always, loves a twist,
A subtle shift I somehow missed.
The Pastor left, a new one came,
And nothing ever stayed the same.
“Don’t worry, son, it’s all aligned,
A man from Bulawayo you will find.”
We nodded, trusting holy tone.
For who expects a lie from the throne?
June rolled in with silent doubt,
No sign of help, no word, no route.
But still the same rehearsed reply:
“He will be there.” We wondered why.
Then thunder struck without a sound,
Another meeting held, feet on the ground.
“You cannot wed within these walls.
The pure alone receive these halls.”
I searched their eyes for logic’s thread,
“But others walked this path,” I said.
“A new rule came.” That was the shield.
Convenient truth they chose to wield.
I bowed my head, but not in shame,
“Another place,” I said, “same aim.”
My wife sat close, no tear, no cry,
Just silent strength, her steady reply.
We found a hall, more grand, more wide,
Yet something sacred stayed denied.
Not walls of brick we longed to claim,
But blessing tied to heaven’s name.
That night I knelt, my spirit bare,
“Forgive me, Lord, I place it there.
If this is loss, then let it be.
Still guide this path for her and me.”
Peace came softly, like a friend,
But chaos waited round the bend.
July arrived with empty air,
No Pastor came, no sign, no care.
Till one old voice, both firm and low,
Said words I needed not to know:
“My son, no one is coming here.”
Truth has a way of sounding clear.
I found a man outside the fold,
A Magistrate with heart of gold.
“No charge,” he said, “just come and go,”
While those within demanded more.
I stood between two worlds that day.
One asked for less, one pushed away.
Then came the final rehearsal night,
Songs in tune and steps just right.
The hall alive, the moment near,
Till judgment chose again to appear.
“This music’s wrong.”
“These steps too close.”
And just like that, control imposed.
Something broke I held inside,
A quiet storm I could not hide.
“My wedding’s next week,” I replied,
“Too late for rules you now decide.”
“If you don’t change, we won’t support.”
I answered plain, I answered short:
“Then take your church, and leave us be.
We’ll still be wed, just her and me.”
Silence fell like shaken ground,
No louder truth had made a sound.
“Are you choosing sin?” they cried.
“I’m choosing her,” I said with pride.
Eight days left, no help, no hand,
Plans collapsing like desert sand.
No food, no funds, no safety net,
Just faith and love, and rising debt.
I told my team, “You’re free to go.”
They answered, “No, we’re with you though.”
In that moment, clear and true,
I saw what loyalty can do.
And through it all, she stayed the same,
No blame, no anger, no loud claim.
Just quiet strength beside my side.
That’s when I knew: this is my bride.
Then came the day we thought we’d lost,
A wedding built at heavy cost.
And there they stood, a whole congregation. Gave the Pastor a middle finger.
Filling up the very spaces.
No invitation. Still they came.
Human hearts are strange that way.
The music rose, the dancing wild,
Elders laughing, free as child.
Holiness took a gentle pause,
As joy replaced their rigid laws.
And when she walked, the room gave way,
A thunder no words could ever say.
In that sound, so loud, so free,
I heard what heaven meant to be.
They closed the church, they barred the door,
But love stood taller than before.
For what is blessed is not a place,
It’s two hearts held in truth and grace.
And though they tried to say “not you”…
We said,
“We will still wed.”
@TheLifeZoomer My goodness, you went through so much.. all that drama my brother. If that whole whole wedding episode was reenacted it would lay bare so many hypocrisies and help adress so many issues.
Wedding entrance photo now makes sense. More power and peace to you🙏🏽
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