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“We fight Rhodes because he means so much for oppression, injustice, & moral degradation to South Africa - but if he passed away tomorrow there still remains the terrible fact that something in our society has formed the matrix which has fed, nourished and built up such a man.”
When will we, who call Ga-Kgosi Galeshewe home, ever have the guts to confront the diamond- stealing- murdering- raping British, for what they did to our Warrior King, Kgosi Luka Mpolokeng Jantjie? (1835-1897).
I recently found myself at a crossroads with regard to the conversation around Black Lives Matter in South Africa’s cricket and rugby spaces. When Makhaya Ntini told his story, my immediate feeling was of empathy and sadness.
In this performance, Miss Ntuli invites us into the deep corridors of her inner self, to witness a personal story of love, displacement, otherness and internal yearning. Like many a sublime artist, the art itself cuts tenfold, dwarfing this narration.
It’s also true that, on the land we have lived on for thousands of years, we can wake up one day, to claims, by settlers, that, it, our land, was “empty land” all along.
Unfortunately, there are way too many Makhayas in our midst – broken souls that were created in the early days after the ‘demise’ of apartheid. Many of us are Nelson Mandela’s sacrificial lambs, who are barbecued daily in the name of reconciliation in South Africa.
The film follows Siyabonga who is dispatched to his grandmother while his parents are sorting out their marital problems. But the city boy is not accustomed to doing household chores, and he struggles to adapt to life in a rural village with his grandmother
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