Maitengwe Weekend Trending Stories: The Queen of View Once

With Yours Truly:
He does not deserve just a minute of silence.
He deserves a moment that stretches beyond time.
Cde Runesu “Bombshell” Geza is no more.
And just like that, the 20:30 pm Dzepawatch addresses fall silent. The chair is empty. The microphone rests. But the echoes? Ahh, the echoes are still bouncing off the mountains.
Cde Geza died in South Africa after leading the anti-2030 chorus, a chorus that refused to hum quietly in the background.
Whether you agreed with him or not, you heard him.
And in politics, being heard is half the battle.
He fought as a young man against colonial rule. When others were polishing dreams, he was polishing boots for the struggle. After independence, he did not retreat into the shadows. He became a Member of Parliament, rose within party ranks, and lived what many would call a “comfortable” life at least by Zimbabwean standards where comfort is often defined as “not checking the price before buying cooking oil.”
But even in his evening years, he remained restless. He continued fighting for what he believed was right. And that is why today, both camps are mourning him.
The opposition mourns the voice that echoed their frustrations.
The ruling camp mourns the man who once helped build what they now defend.
Bombshell was for the people. And now he is mourned by the people.
Some are celebrating his passing as if it is divine confirmation of their correctness.
But history has never worked like that. Seeds do not die; they multiply. Cde Bombshell was not an event, he was a seed. And seeds have a stubborn habit of sprouting where you least expect them.
His death is not a stamp of approval for anyone’s ideology. It is simply the closing of a chapter written loudly.
A moment of silence again for the son of the soil.
Good night, Cde Bombshell.
Now, dear readers, let us wipe our tears gently and scroll into the week’s fireworks.
His Excellency the President of the Republic was in Dubai and left the global stage trending like a viral TikTok sound. The punchline?
“Zimbabwe is far away from Venezuela.”
Oh, what a diplomatic uppercut.
When an American journalist tried to drag Zimbabwe into Venezuela’s political drama, the President sidestepped like a seasoned boxer. The response was layered, almost lawyerly, precise, calm, and slightly mischievous.
Translated into street language, it meant:
1. Why are you asking us about Venezuela when we have our own homework?
2. And if something happened there, we would also like to know why.
It was the kind of answer that neither hugs nor slaps ,it simply leaves you blinking.
Then came the land question. And there, the President did not dance. He stood firm.
“The land belongs to Zimbabweans.”
Full stop. No commas. No appeal.
Love him or critique him, that was a moment that made many Zimbabweans in the UAE walk with their shoulders slightly higher. Yours truly included.
From Dubai’s polished halls, we land in Plumtree , Mandlambuzi to be precise where reality has no filters.
A South Africa-based man was stabbed three times in his own home as robbers made away with R900,000. Yes, nine hundred thousand rand. That is not “small change lost between couch cushions” money. That is “zeroes lining up like school assembly” money.
Eight suspects have been arrested. R239,120 recovered. Two still on the run.
Kudos to Zimbabwe Republic Police for swift action.
But dear basekulu bangu, lesson number one: do not turn your hut into a private Reserve Bank. Even if banks sometimes behave like unsecured lockers with banking hours, keeping nearly a million rand under a mattress is inviting armed auditors at midnight.
And then… Harare introduced us to a digital phenomenon, a one-woman media storm,the so-called “Queen of View Once”, better known to the scrolling masses as Nadia TV.
One billion views. In twenty-eight days. Over three million followers on Facebook alone, though that kingdom of clicks has since vanished, shuttered and taken offline.
The girl, a daughter of Mbare, rewrote the rulebook on making money in the age of ephemeral content. Her weapon? View-once posts of her own nudity.
Yes, you read that right. The kind of content that sparks moral outrage in some, desire in others, and most importantly, money in a way that no bank account could ignore.
The math is staggering. One billion eyes in twenty-eight days. Global attention of a scale that would make even the most seasoned influencers blink. And while the page has been yanked offline before yours truly could even glimpse its full glory, whispers tell of fortunes amassed, deals struck in the shadows of algorithms, and a fandom scattered across continents—from the Middle East to Asia, Europe, and the United States.
But let’s pause, if only for a heartbeat. Where does our dignity as human beings go when a billion strangers are watching someone’s most intimate self, fleeting as it is, for profit, for clicks, for currency?
As an elder might murmur, “When the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on the earth?”
H-Metro, never one to mince words, christened her the Queen of Sodom and Gomorrah, a nod that lands somewhere just shy of the Jezebel league.
Monetization culture is to blame, yours truly reckons. When attention becomes currency, morality negotiates. When every swipe and tap is worth dollars, humans will do almost anything.
Meanwhile, in South Sudan love proved expensive.
Thon Chol Riak secured his bride after outbidding a rival with $77,000 in cash, 297 cows, and plots of land.
Two hundred and ninety-seven cows.
That is not a wedding but that is a livestock conference.
His competitor offered $25,000 and 158 cows but fell short. My brother, in love markets, inflation is real.
What a world.
In South Africa, political romance may be brewing again. Julius Malema hinted that if Dr. Mbuyiseni Ndlozi returned to the EFF, he would personally roll out the red carpet.
Politics is the only place where breakups trend and reunions trend even harder.
Let it happen, Juju. The popcorn is ready.
And so, dear readers, we close where we began , with remembrance.
Cde Bombshell , a fighter. A man who refused to whisper. A son of the soil who believed politics was not a spectator sport.
Fought for the people.
Mourned by the people.
Good night, Cde Geza.
For weeping may endure for a night — but joy, as scripture reminds us in Psalm 30:5, comes in the morning.
Asante