Bunny Mack

I’m on a plane, sometime mid eighties, London bound. I was a kid, plucked from the sandy shores of Freetown and headed to a new world … a cold one with no coconut trees !!!

Whilst sat alone, a small commotion amongst fellow passengers could be heard … BUNNY MACK, BUNNY MACK …everybody vying for conversation with the then disco king. Making his way past, he looked across, stopped and asked where I was headed? A brief exchange of details, he flashed a smile, told me to work hard and ‘tɛl papa awdu’ (say hi to dad). The six hour outbound trip suddenly felt better…

Fast forward 33 years or so; I return the favour with a little tribute to his sound and memory…