Shepherd Bushiri’s spokesman and journalist Maynard Manyowa admits in a lengthy Facebook post that he has been getting thousands of pounds from the GoldMafia implicated preacher Uebert Angel.
The world’s biggest fake degree that Maynard Manyowa will never publish is his funder, the GoldMafia fugitive, Uebert Angel’s and Manyowa is the Official Spokesman for the world’s most notorious fraudcase-fugitive Shepherd Bushiri who’s the most notorious CIO mafia busy strangulating the state security institutions of African countries (Mohadi, DIS of Botswana, and MHS of Malawi), for covering up fake prophesies and money laundering.
Maynard Manyowa writes in a Facebook post in June 2024 saying in full: For the most part, every person I have written about so far has been angelic in a sense. They have been heaven-like characters who showed up at various stages in my life and helped me become what and who I am today.
Yet, if the men and a woman I have thanked so far have been angelic in a sense, the subject of this chapter is angelic in name. Really, his name is Uebert Angel Snr.
I first encountered Uebert Angel in 2012, at his Spirit Embassy church, then holding services at HICC in Harare. I wore spectacles at the time due to persistent and brutal headaches. I routinely missed work at Vantage Holdings because of ill-timed and merciless bouts of Asthma often inflamed by hay fever.
He prayed for me. It must have been on a hot December afternoon. He declared I should stop wearing specs and that my hay fever wouldn’t be an issue again.
Life happened after that day. I had a son. I moved to South Africa. I became Shepherd Bushiri’s media and tech guy (itself a story for another day) and so forth.
For the purposes of this story, my paths would not cross with Prophet Angel again, until maybe 2017, when we had a brief encounter at SBM Holdings in Sandton – we exchanged handshakes and pleasantries and I went about my business at the office.
In 2018, following repeated challenges online, a line of communication was opened between Angel and myself, facilitated by my father, Prophet Bushiri – in theory, Angel, a mentor and father to my own father became my Grandfather or Grandad, as you may catch me describing him in this piece and elsewhere in my life.
I was quite star struck at the beginning of the relationship. Angel was polite, chatty, endearing and very “fatherly”. He would be interested in simple and rather small details about my life – like my diet, my relationships, my goals, and even my friends.
It was the first time I also encountered his immense generosity. Angel took care of several people in need in South Africa, and would often send me large sums of money to distribute to men, women, children and disabled people.
The first time he gave me this task, he must have sent about R200,000. The list of recipients and corresponding amounts only tallied to about R165,000. When I pointed this out, he said to me, and I can vividly remember, “take R5k for yourself, the rest give your like madam”.
But that wasn’t the generosity alone. You see, the task had given him access to my bank details. And from there, every other fortnight or so, I would wake up with a notification for a deposit. Sometimes it was R10,000, at times it was ten times that. Unsolicited.
On WhatsApp, he would often follow these gifts with advice about investments, savings and responsibilities. If I asked, he always told me “money is one thing I have in abundance and you are my grandson, use it wisely and improve your life and that of those you care about”.
We will return to 2018-19 later. Let me take you back to 2017, where something significant had happened. Nottingham Trent University had offered me a scholarship to study an MA in News Journalism. A very important person in my life, who has chosen not to be mentioned in this series paid £3,000 for me to get the unconditional offer.
However, events in Zimbabwe around that time presented an incredible once in a lifetime opportunity for me as a journalist. Succession was heating up. Mugabe wanted Mnangagwa dead. I had strong military contacts and my publication Khuluma Afrika was the go to for solid “Lacoste” news, as it was called then.
So school took a back seat. I deferred to 2018 and NTU moved me to a Broadcast Journalism course. But, come August, elections happened, so did post-election violence. I was subpoenaed to appear at the commission of enquiry that followed sloted for November meaning I would miss the September start.
So I deferred, amidst more difficulties, like a 2018 church stampede leading to three deaths and protests, a chapter 9 institution summoning PSB leadership and Bushiri himself being arrested in 2019. NTU were clear I could not change my start date anymore and would lose out on the £3,000 deposit and having had two offers withdrawn, my prospects of ever getting a visa would be affected.
However, the same events had been fundamentally life changing in other ways too. My coverage of the military intervention, which went as far as CNBC and Washing Post in the US had increased my stock. I had become a bit of a star. So NTU gave me a very rare £7,500 scholarship.
To attend study I was required to raise about £12,500 in savings. As well as the remainder of my fees (£4,500). The whole visa process including health surcharges cost another £2000. Prophet Angel paid for these.
I also needed a place to stay, as the plan was for one half of my family (at the time) to move with me. Angel paid my rentals for a two bedroom house for a full year in advance. When I landed he gave me £2,000 to buy furniture and another £1500 for bus travel, food and lunch.
I had anticipated that I would have to work for him like I had for my father. I was wrong. Angel wanted me to study first. So while every odd week or so he would drive to Nottingam in his Bentley Mulsanne or Ferrari Portofino to see me, he largely stayed out of my way.
A month into my studies, disaster hit. My wife’s grandmother Georgina, an amazing woman who had loved me so deeply and passionately passed away. It was unexpected and painful. My wife was 9 months pregnant, and had now lost the most important person in her life.
Angel swiftly booked the first available ticket for me so I could attend the funeral. He also prepared a large envelope for me to contribute towards the funeral. My son Kaiyron was also due to be born two weeks after and Angel helped with the final touch ups.
Come December, when we were on semester break, he called me on afternoon and said to me, “You have not met your new born son you.”
Kai had been born on November 29. He was referring to that.
“We should surprise your wife with a Christmas gift. How do you feel about flying back to SA in time for Christmas? And have you ever flown first class?”
By now you have figured what happened next. I spent Christmas and New Year in SA with my family.
Unfortunately covid hit that very period, borders were closed, our learning moved online and life became lonely. My family were holed up in SA, I was stuck in the UK. But I went about my school work diligently, scoring up distinctions and high commendations.
Every other week Angel invited me to his £4m mansion in Lincoln, where we spent several evenings sitting in his jaccuzzi and talking. I believe I am the only person till today who was ever given that much private time and access by the prophet – especially in his home.
I even had my own personal room in his mansion. I had biometric access at the gates. And I was allowed to drive his high end cars. It was during that time I drove a Lambo for the first time, the Ferrari, the Bentley and the Rolls.
When I passed my exams and became a Master of the art of Documentaries, Angel bought me £12,000 Mercedes. At that time, legal problems were also besieging my father, so salaries were sometimes late. Angel took over mine.
When the iPhone 12s were released, he bought me three. One for my wife Mutsa at the time, one for my wife Boipelo, at the time, and one for me. He also bought me a Canon EOS R, some lenses and a MacBook Pro M1.
He was the first to suggest I enroll for a PhD. I chose Bournemouth Uni and he paid £5,000 deposit for it. When lockdown rules were relaxed in December, Angel facilitated my travel to Harare to see the other half of my family.
It was there in 2020 that I contracted covid and ended up in ICU. This was a tough time. Covid was new. Hospitals didn’t know how to handle it. So, my mother and Mutsa were turned away from one hospital after another. Until Dr Mataka took me in. I have written about it before here –
I needed urgent special care, costing upwards of $5,000. Angel stepped in. He paid for everything. I didn’t die.
Although I have spoken mostly about the financial contributions, Angel was more than that to me. We often went on long drives where he asked me about my plans and dreams.
It is why when my documentary about Elliot Mujaji was released on the BBC I dedicated it to him. It is an idea we had spoken about at length. I often pitched my ideas and he gave me his insights.
Unbeknown to many, Angel is actually a very media and tech savy person. He is very good with cameras and scripting. I always joked with him that he could have been a world beating reporter.
Angel was like a mentor. He always picked my calls. He always listened. And he always gave advice. The period between 2019 and 2022 was also quite chaotic in my life.
My father, often in prison or dealing with other matters was not always available as he had been before. Without guidance I often drifted towards my usual propensities of destroying self or others. Angel was my rock.
As is the cycle of life, my relationship with my grandad suffered over personal differences on matters involving others. I was wrong for the most part in how I handled these. I think deep down Angel also knows that having taught me to be a free thinking and independent person, there are times when he failed me too.
But, where we are now cannot take away from what Angel did for me. As a grandson, I did my best to serve him, though I accept I fell shot of his expectations – largely cause he believed in me so much. And dare I say, he actually loved me, plainly and deeply.
It is impossible to ever say I paid him back for what he did for me. Certainly not in a financial sense and moreso in the kind of man I became.
I was a stranger to Angel. A total stranger. What he did for me, changed my life. His investment towards me touches a quarter of a million pounds.
He also really was the only person I had for several years and through very dark times. He opened so many doors for me. He stood as my blood. In his home, I was treated like blood. He loved me like no other.
It can be difficult writing about Angel, let alone reading him being described in glowing terms. I understand this. Uebert Angel is a contrasting and polarising figure. Several people dislike him, and some for valid reasons. It is not my place to go into this.
He is also a man of many shades. He is a televangelist come businessman come political appointee. People describe him as arrogant and abrupt. My experiences are different.
Angel is a straight talker and a sharp shooter. But he is predominantly kind. He really is a nice person. Believe it or not he is humble and caring. Many people that he helped during my time close to him are strangers. Some are even mortal enemies but he helped them anyways.
The purpose of this chapter isn’t to change your opinions on Angel. Your interactions will determine how you view him – although, I must begrudgingly say, he probably doesn’t mind.
I can only speak of his role in my life and the impact he had in it. Angel did incredible things for me and never asked for anything in return. Without him, my life would very, and I mean very much different.
For that, I am eternally grateful. My flowers may not mean much, but here they are, anyway, Grandad!