Wilson B. Nkosi's dream as he grew up was always to become a radio DJ. He was inspired by Cyril Mchunu, known as Kansas City of Radio Zulu, and equally so by David Gresham of Springbok Radio. He wrote a letter to the SABC expressing his wishes to be on radio; however there was nothing for him at the time.
After completing his studies, Wilson got a reply from the SABC informing him of the launch of Radio Metro, as METRO FM was known then. The letter informed him that if he was still interested in pursuing radio as a career, then he would have to come through to the SABC for an audition. His attempt was successful and in 1986 he was one of METRO FM’s first DJs. He has since learnt that in life, some dreams do come true.
Ask Wilson what slots he has hosted on METRO FM, and he will say,” I have hosted them all, some as a stand-in presenter.” His past slots at METRO FM include both the morning and afternoon drive time shows. A year into radio, Wilson became a TV presenter for the show Sidlalela Intsha, Sidlalela Ulutsha a request show. He has also featured on Studio Mix in the absence of its main anchor Bob Mabena and was also one of Jam Alley’s first presenters when the show launched in 1992.
Outside of METRO FM, Wilson is a copywriter, employed by Wilson B. Nkosi Communications, an agency that writes and produces radio and TV commercials. The agency was founded by Wilson in 1995 and is still going strong. Wilson’s first job as a copywriter was at J Walter Thompson and after 17 years he is still their resident writer. Other ad agencies he has worked for include, Young and Rubicam and Ogilvy and Mather. He continues to do freelance work for many agencies as a writer and voice over artist.
His professional liaison with Reliable Music Warehouse began with the Reliable Music Half Hour, a feature on his show. With time, he decided to take it to another level. He wanted to make sure that he would be responsible for the success or failure of the show and to do that he had to acquire total creative control. He started writing scripts for the show and as a result, Reliable was very impressed with his body of work. The TV campaigns stemmed from this. He jokingly adds that people now think that he owns Reliable Music Warehouse simply because he is their brand ambassador.
Wilson continues to host the Sounds and Stuff like That, his 9- 12 Sunday show on METRO FM. Wilson’s success in all that he does can be credited to the fact that he approaches his work with plenty of zeal. He makes sure that he always does the best that he can. This is one lesson any man should be glad to learn from the life of Wilson B. Nkosi.
The boy, The boy-man, The man and his Journey.
At a tender age, she reads him the riot act.
Bunking church is a punishable offence.
So is bunking school.
Telling lies will not be tolerated, she makes him know.
She talks to him about integrity - the importance of keeping one’s promise.
Fairness/fair-mindedness punctuates her vocabulary.
Every time he breaks these rules and this he does with regularity,
punishment is met(t)ed out.
A disciplinarian she is, yet she remains the boy’s favourite person.
She constantly tells him that he is the reason her heart beats.
He tells her that when he becomes a man,
all the basic material needs will be met.
She laughs.
Although they are inseparable, but they both where to draw the line.
In later years, now a boy-man, he describes himself as a simple man…
from a simple place – a place that houses persons with no airs and graces.
At most, he says he is an average person with above average hopes,
dreams, wishes and aspirations.
He strongly believes he is destined for greatness, God willing, he adds.
Back to the simple place, the boy-man’s favourite person is greeted by
screaming newspaper headlines labelling the boy-man self-centred, aloof,
conceited, pompous, obnoxious, snobbish, ego-centric, arrogant,
disrespectful. They call for his head.
He apologises sincerely to her favourite person for “bringing the family
into disrepute”.
But says nothing about the charges.
He leaves, promising her that he will be back to make good on his promise
- the promise to improve her lot.
Alone in her modest and humble house, deeply hurt with tears flowing freely,
she goes down on her tired knees. She says a prayer.
It is these very newspaper charges, founded or unfounded that see the
boy-man raise his bar even higher to achieve his highest and best.
For as long as he can remember, he has always wanted to be some useful
and necessary being.
After countless false starts, hurdles, stumbles and years and years of “hustling”,
the boy-man becomes a man, not withstanding errors of judgement.
Determined to keep his promise to his favourite person, the man heads
back to the simple place, the modest and humble house that gave birth to
his childhood hopes, dreams, wishes and aspirations.
Unlike the biblical prodigal son, the boy, the boy-man, the man returns triumphantly.
After a lifetime of nursing and nurturing the boy-man, the years have
taken their toll on his favourite person. Now a few kilos lighter, a shade
darker, but with the same trademark dimples that decorate her beautiful,
and dignified face, she now walks with some bit of deliberation.
She remains graceful and majestic.
No word spoken, the two embrace for the longest time.
Her job is done!
"Friendship is not about whom you have known the longest or who came first or who cares the best. It's all about who came and NEVER left".
Author: Unknown to me.
Ronnie, my son, you kept your promise.
You said you would protect me and keep me from harm.
You kept your promise.
You kept your promise. Never, never to cause me to cry.
You said you would take care of your mamma until the day I die.
You kept your promise.
This path that you’ve taken is not your choice, darling.
God gave you a talent, gave you love to sing to the world.
Son, you sang, not sing.
You sang to the world and the whole world heard you.
You brought out love in some,
Joy in others and totally made happy mothers.
You gave so much, and now I know you are dancing with your father.
Son, you kept your promise.
The poem,You kept your promise, was written by Mrs. Mary Ida Vandross - a fitting tribute to her son, Luther Ronzoni Vandross, Jr. It was recited at his funeral.
I fell in love with you the first time I set my eyes on you.
I even risked making a fool of myself.
I fell in love with you again when I smiled and you smiled back.
I fell in love with you when you listened to “my story”.
Again, I fell in love with you when you bought “my story”.
I fell in love with you when you trusted me with your life/health.
I fell in love with you again when you agreed to be my life partner.
I fell in love with you when you said I’m your second chance.
Remember that day?
Again, I fell in love with you this morning when I opened my eyes,
and the first thing I saw was you.
Not withstanding all my weaknesses, failures, flaws, faults, shortcomings,
mistakes, errors of judgement and all the bits and pieces that make me the incomplete and imperfect being that I am, I’ve been blessed. A childhood dream of mine has done its best to come true.
Thank you for allowing yourself to be an integral part of my ideals,
aspirations, wishes, hopes and dreams.
Thank you for being patient with me.
I’m not a perfect man. Far from it. Some may even say I’m not worthy.
I don’t have a crystal ball to see into the future, but, I can’t wait
to find out. Whatever we do today, has an effect on our tomorrow.
Written by Wilson B. Nkosi
11th August 2005
"Nothing in particular is my readily available response. I wanted to write about something that people the world-over can relate to. I wanted to run with an idea that knows no race, colour, creed, religion, culture, age etc. I was happy with the end-product. I hope you find comfort in knowing that "It's NEVER too late". Enjoy."
Thank you for listening and reading.
Just because I never shed a tear, you foolishly assumed I felt no pain.
Just because there was no bleeding, you unwittingly thought I wasn’t hurting.
Just because I never complained, you convinced yourself I was okay.
It’s Too Late.
It’s Too Late Now.
Just because I never confronted or accused you, you were convinced I didn’t
know. You were convinced I was blind or plain stupid.
Just because I never raised my voice, you thought I was scared and helpless.
Just because I covered the scars, you kept delivering more and more assaults
for everyone to see.
No. It’s Too Late
It’s Too, Too Late
It’s Way Too Late Now
Just because my heart stubbornly kept beating, you felt I could take more punches.
Just because I so much wanted things to work out, you foolishly took full
advantage. You used my inner strength against me.
Just because I kept giving, you were only happy to keep receiving. Never
thought of giving. Never.
Just because I had faith in a better tomorrow, you unwisely concluded I was
weak.
It’s Too Late
It’s Too Late
Just because I kept reaching out, you saw that as a sign of weakness.
Just because I kept walking, it never ever occurred to you that I was tired.
I was tired
I was tired.
" A message every adult should read, because children are watching you and doing as you do, not as you say."
WHEN YOU THOUGHT I WASN'T LOOKING
(Written by a former child)
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you hang my first painting
on the refrigerator, and I immediately wanted to paint another one.
When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you feed a stray cat, and I
learned that it was good to be kind to animals.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make my favourite
cake for me and I learned that the little things can be the
special things in life.
When you thought I wasn't looking I heard you say a prayer,
and I knew there is a God I could always talk to and
I learned to trust in God.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make a
meal and take it to a friend who was sick, and I
learned that we all have to help
take care of each other.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you give of your
time and money to help people who had nothing
and I learned that those who have something
should give to those who don't.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you take
care of our house and everyone in it and I learned
we have to take care of what we are given.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw how you handled
your responsibilities, even when you didn't feel good
and I learned that I would have to be responsible
when I grow up.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw tears come from
your eyes and I learned that sometimes things hurt,
but it's alright to cry.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw that you cared
and I wanted to be everything that I could be.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I learned most of life's lessons that
I need to know to be a good and productive person when I grow up.
When you thought I wasn't looking, I looked at you and
wanted to say, "Thanks for all the things I saw when
you thought I wasn't looking."
TO ALL OF THE PEOPLE I KNOW WHO DO SO MUCH FOR OTHERS
THAT THINK NO ONE EVER SEES. LITTLE EYES SEE A LOT.
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