MAGAZINE
We pay homage to the many ancestors and living ones who came before us, those who planted the seed and made it possible for us to dream differently. They assured us that our dreams are valid and worthy of being pursued. They cultivated and natured our gifts so that we too can say, better tomorrows are possible regardless of the horrid past we come from.
As a good madam would, for years, you gave the women in my family clothes which you no longer wanted; skirts, dresses, pants, shirts, bras, and your panties. It is almost as if you knew that I existed. I say this because, of course you knew that the tiny diamanté string thong, held together by a miniscule butterfly was too small for my aunt, whose full, wide hips bore testament to the many generations she birthed and raised.
the violence of silence as we watch people who have come to our city struggle to maintain their dignity and we do nothing
Then enter Zondo, a Newcastle dreamer who recorded her own Friday show in her room for an audience of zero. She watched on intrigued as Matheba enthralled the nation every Friday night, and vowed to occupy that space one day in the future.
Probably, since the beginning of Makhathini’s solo career in 2014, his work of eight album releases has been explicit about its learnings, searching’s and connectedness to what he often refers to as ‘the ancestral realms’.
He is not convinced you're hurt; you're not bleeding He forgets you bleed monthly when you're not hurting He doesn't understand your soul speaks the moon's language Yet he expertly gathers rain clouds in your heart But his thirst to leave your earth dry and cracked