Inside a magician's world

Tiyare claims he was inducted into the magical world when he was still in primary school. Photo by Ismail Kezzala

What you need to know:

Muzafaru Tiyare is unusual combination of farmer, father and sleight-of-hand magician. He attributes most of what he knows about magic to his life in primary school.

On a scorching Monday afternoon, I call to tell my prospective news source that we are already at Kobil filling station, Kibuye, Kampala. An inquisitive voice responds, “we are coming shortly …but have you carried your identity cards?” “Obviously,” I answer but wondered why a magician would ask for my identification.
After waiting for a while and with my cameraman showing signs of impatience as a lean young man emerges. “I am not the one you are looking for but I want to know exactly what you want from my man,” he asks, meanly.
I quickly explain our mission. But he insists, “This story will earn you money Naye ffe tufunira wa? (How do we benefit?)
I tell him it is a matter of them sharing their story, no monetary value attached. He then asks for our IDs and lets us meet “his man”.

Tiyare Da Vanda, the magician, is a slim, short young man, donning light-green shorts. His black, long-sleeved V-neck T-shirt, black baseball cap, necklace and ring carry a big golden skull emblem. The back of his shirt is embroidered “United 666 God of Worship Illuminati Brother.” His neatly trimmed beard accentuates a light-skinned face.
He is flanked by two others who are later identified as Sweet Collins, a TV presenter, and Viai Lee, an aspiring musician.
As Da Vanda goes with my cameraman for the photo shoot, I with the other three, cross Entebbe Road to Sekawa Motel, just opposite Total filling station where we later did the interview.

How I got charmed
But how, in the first place, did I pick interest in such a story? Last month, I met a group of four men, impeding traffic flow on Luwum Street in Kampala.
On their pick-up truck, one was purportedly gasping for breath after his lower body appeared to be severed; his upper body “bleeding” profusely. Another man was wielding a “blood-stained” machete.

People repeatedly took turns catching the shots with their phones, wondering how the man had really pulled it off. Amazed, I asked for their contacts thinking “these guys must have a story to tell.” The only option was to buy their CD at Shs1,000, which had their contact.
As I marvelled at the various stunts in their video compilation, just like their street crowds, my impetus to chase this story grew.

Magical beginnings
He was born Muzafaru Tiyare in 1990 to Juma Begumisa and Aida Kesande (RIP) in Bushenyi District. Despite being a talented goalkeeper, runner and jumper, he was expelled from several schools for involving in strikes.
In 2004, while at Busingye Memorial PS in Rutoto, Da Vanda’s induction into the magic world began.
“I grew up admiring magic and trying some tricks. But I was naïve,” he explains in a lowered pitch, preparing me for a more unbelievable revelation. “Then in my P7 vacation, I disappeared for about three years. I couldn’t understand the ecstasy that welcomed me back home because everyone thought I had died; yet I thought I was with them at home.”

From then on, he wore a cloak of magic and it was only a matter of time that others would see it too.
At the age of 16, he had grown a bald head; acquired a spiritual name Da Vanda and the spiritual powers he wields as he moves his magical wand to put food on the table.
“People and my family started fearing me; I could do things they hardly believed; they started calling me a witch, Illuminati and all sorts of names.”
Beginning secondary school, his father prayed that his son concentrates on his studies.
Although he finished his Advanced Level at St John SS in Busia, it was obvious that magic, which he practiced during school, was his obsession.

Breakthrough
In his vacation in 2012, Da Vanda and three others were among the Ugandan entertainers who stirred crowds in a concert in Pretoria, South Africa. Before that stint, Da Vanda and his World Magic group used to perform in schools for about Shs300,000. But the R40,000 (almost Shs11m) they got in Pretoria, was not big either, but a symbol of hope. They used some of it to buy equipment to boost their trade.
While others sought greener pastures in Canada, Emma Kisaalu, has kept his faith and now plays manager of the group which now boasts of eight members, including musicians, dancers, and comedians.

Mission Soweto
Still fresh from Kisaalu’s interrogation before the interview, I asked, “Are you criminals? Why did you treat us with suspicion; do you have enemies?”
“Yes,” Da Vanda quickly chips in. “You know there are some (Pentecostal) pastors who are threatening us. Since 2012, I have been used by pastors to hoodwink masses in Soweto, South Africa.”

He demonstrates that he could enter church with an amputated or paralysed limb and the pastor starts “praying” and “miraculously”, the limb gets healed, much to the astonishment of the unsuspecting congregations.
“But that’s magic yet they pretend to be godly. Now, they send us threatening messages, fearing we will shame them.”

How it is done
In their video, Da Vanda and his crew pull off several stunts at Nakivubo Container Village.
In one, he swallows pieces of paper and suddenly, he pulls out a long string of paper protruding from his mouth. In another, he makes a funnel out of Full Woman magazine, shows it to the crowds, to attest it is empty.
He cuts other papers in rectangular shapes, inserts them into the funnel…and wow…guess what he has made: several Shs20,000 notes.

One stood out, though, he held a glass, a colleague filled it with water, then as he did magic, it started freezing and soon it was ice.
For street shows, they accept even Shs50 per show but they can collect up to Shs1m in just hours.
The day I found them in town they were heading to the NRM party offices to negotiate a deal.

And this was the corresponding trick: Da Vanda got a yellow balloon, blew it and started perforating it with a sharp nail. But it remained intact. “We wanted to show that NRM is still strong no matter the challenges.”
They perform at different occasions, birthdays, weddings, funerals at say Shs1m, but at the end of the event they will have collected more in tips.
“On a good day we can even get Shs5m,” Da Vanda says. In an hour, manager Kisaalu affirms, they can sell five boxes of CDs, each CD worth Shs1,000.
The group claims they need 72 hours’ notice to study a client’s needs and put up an appropriate performance.

Challenges

Tiyare plies his trade with a group that performs for different audiences


Apart from the alleged threats from pastors and some people’s negative perception of his works, Da Vanda is comfortable with his life. He, however, fears that children could naively try his stunts which could endanger them.

Achievements
Since embracing magic, about nine years ago, Da Vanda, 24, is happy his group is growing in fame. “I am now a celeb,” he says as he laughs lightly, “I can attract a crowd of a thousand people. I don’t need an office job, unless you put me in charge of oil in Bunyoro.”
He has ventured into farming and his father helps him take care of over 400 goats in Bushenyi. He built a home in Kasubi, where his wife and one-year old boy happily live.
He told me one of his clips featured in the horror movie Eaten Alive II but he was only paid him $400 (about Shs1.5m).
They have also performed in South Africa, Zambia, Rwanda, Nigeria and Canada, but his ultimate career dream is seeing his group get more international recognition and bigger pay cheques.

Stunts gone wrong
He has performed superhuman tricks like making a woman eat an egg and give birth to a cock; piercing a balloon and unleashing a group of parrots, but in 2011, Da Vanda got the test of a lifetime. He swallowed 150 needles, and threads.
“But pulling them out, only 10 appeared. I tried hard but failed. I thought I was going to die.”
He underwent several scans to no avail. When he told his father about it, he simply told him off. Luckily, he has since mastered the art and believes his gods protected him.
But what could cause such failure? He tells us the rules are simple. You have to prepare enough; be orderly; respect the audience and concentrate.

“You have to stay focused on which trick you want to perform…not going by the random demands of the audience.”
You also must have the right equipment, “See, we cannot do teleportation (the act of making a person vanish from one location to reappear at another); we cannot afford the relevant equipment to do it.”
Magicians are better off abstaining from drugs because performing under the influence can be dangerous. “You can cut your throat...or anything... So you have to be sober.”

Tried and tested
Earlier in the interview, Da Vander placed a Shs500 coin on my chest and it vanished as if it entered me. Suddenly it reappeared in his pocket. He wanted to show me how— breaking the code—but his manager stopped him. “We only do that for rich audiences,” they tell me.
As I slowly tread Salaama-Munyonyo Road to catch the next taxi, I keep wondering how far humanity can venture in the pursuit of happiness.

What is magic?

Magic can be defined as the power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces through sorcery, witchcraft, wizardry, necromancy, enchantment.
It can also mean the use of paranormal methods to manipulate natural forces or the art of appearing to perform supernatural feats.
Most artistes use some of the following props:
• Equipment
• Flying stick
• Air stick
• Magic Smoke Version
• Extreme Snowstorm
• Lap Elevator
• High Calibre-Rubber Band, among others.
As Davida points out, most of these are imported from China, South Africa and Nigeria. They cost Shs1.5m and above, depending on desired effect.