I am not much of a biography reader, but today I realised that I had been holding my breath to read one about Frank Leepa, as a birthday gift.

I had hoped that 2013, being the 10^th year anniversary of his death, will be a good time to finally have his biography published, as once promised in the now non-functional Frank Leepa revival website. Actually, beyond being hopeful, I prayed about the matter to God the Almighty—Qhobosheane ea rona bakupi, Seokamela sa maholimo le lefats’e.

I was inspired into prayer, in part, because I tend to also suffer from the others-must-do-it-because-I-simply-have-no-time-or-some-other-resource-to-make-it-happen syndrome. Yes, I know this is a horrible syndrome; but assuming I could overcome it and convince myself that I am competent enough for the task, where would I even start?

I suppose I could start by making efforts to interview men like ntate Letele (aka G-man) who I hear played with Frank Leepa before the days of Uhuru in a band called Anti-antics. I remain unclear about why little is ever said about the Anti-antics. However, I do have an inkling why the name had to change.

Ntate Peete, a man with a flair for storytelling, tells this wonderful story where Frank was full of antics; he glided back and forth on stage–not in Michael Jackson style–and got very near to playing the guitar with his teeth, all in the interest of keeping the show going because one band member got too drunk to perform.

I can’t remember the year cited by ntate Peete, but it was certainly pre-80s. What I vividly remember is the passion conveyed about Frank Leepa’s love for music. For the love of music, he was willing to break a neck through some antics on stage in order to preserve the quality of each musical piece, while, of course, entertaining the audiences.

Now, back to my inkling. My working theory is that when Frank Leepa set or became part of a new band, it was with profound self-awareness. He understood that the lengths he was willing to go to in his performances would make it impossible for many to grasp that music was his weapon to fighting the shenanigans in our society–or rather, taking a stand against the antics of some members of our society.

I know I have just been grossly speculative, but what can a woman do? I have been waiting somewhat patiently for my most coveted biography. Waiting to confirm my anecdotes and to gain some insights that may allow me to fully understand Frank Leepa’s compositions—for in each, I believe he left a gem or two to be mined by listener’s own reflection.

I will not hold my breath, but wait I shall. Unabashedly, I will lustfully wait for a Frank biography!