If you are the sort of person with the time and brain cells to waste, you may have wondered over the last week, “Who is this Zari?” Or you may have asked, “What is this Zari?” You probably mused, “Why the hell is this Zari here in the public consciousness in the first place?”
Her reality TV show, Zari The Boss Lady, answered all but the last question. That one is a riddle for the ages and may never be satisfactorily solved.
The show begins with the sort of tacky blinged words that we used to see in those cheap Master P No Limit albums back when most of you were too young. If you have been influenced by hip hop culture, which destroys morals and corrupts the youth, then you probably saw Zari’s name done up by some cheap geek in diamondish pixels and thought, “Not tacky and vulgar at all.”
Alternatively, you vomited a little bit in your mouth.
The title has her name, has her pouting behind the words and has the subtitle, “The Boss Lady”, and the three letters T.B.L. filling up the space left after “Lady”. We soon understand that TBL stands for This Broad is LOCAL! as she does thing after thing after thing to show us what an illmannered and poorly bred brat she really is.
Let’s start with the office scene. She wants to show that she is a businesswoman. She does this by leading a camera into her office at Brooklyn City College. It is in Pretoria and has a branch in Johannesberg, but none in Brooklyn City.
Because there is no city called Brooklyn.
Zari has her staff sitting around her desk in a cramped office whose door is labelled “C.E.O’s” and they squeeze and jostle and are filmed illustrating to us that Zari is their boss.
The overall impression is what you would expect from watching some chick in a tiny office getting her ass patiently kissed by people who know they are too good for this.
It is up to Jonathan, a camp white South African, to rescue the scene from complete boredom, as she orders him around, sending him back and forth for clothes. He is her houseboy. We have an interview section where he complains.
You know how in reality TV shows they have one person being mean and their victim complaining? Yes, that happened here.
It was so obviously set up just to make this show look like those Reality TV shows of those of E! that it made WWE wrestling look as
real as BBC World News in comparison.
Look, I wanted to think that Zari was actually a normal human being who just had a bit of bampaane. I wanted to think that she wasn’t just a bad joke in spite of all her media-baiting shenanigans. I wanted to think she was not an asshole.
But she is, bambi. She is one of those people who suck.
And it was evident in spite of the contrived and staged scenes. Like when she was driving a minivan full of hers and other people’s children. Her hand was turning the steering wheel of a car and, there, for all of us to see, was a mobile phone in her hand. Was she driving while texting? Fucking idiots do that a lot. They think that the people who have accidents and kill kids after texting while driving only do that because they want.
Now, some of you people reading this probably also drive and text. I have the utmost respect and love for our readers, but the truth is texting while driving is a thing for jerks and you will kill someone.
They reached their destination, mercifully without ramming their cargo of toddlers into a bus because Zari was too distracted punching in lols and smileys to watch the road. Then she opened the door and cast the rubbish she had been eating onto the ground.
Zari is a litter bug.
Have you seen any part of Kampala and thought to yourself, this place is filthy! It’s full of rubbish!
Yeah, it’s like that because of people like Zari, man.
The show closes with her and her friends planning a party or something. If you ever hear of people planning kids’ parties and wish you could eavesdrop, this is going to be rivetting to you. If you don’t care about parties you are not invited to that don’t involve beer, you are going to come to the conclusion that you just wasted half an hour of Umeme.
Boss Lady, my ass. Just a pampered, spoilt, ill-bred brat who needs to get over herself.