Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) victories, international trophies and Olympic medals have made being South African a pleasure and tremendous source of pride.
South African pride is soaring, with UFC victories, another Rugby World Cup win and a handful Olympic medals. Dricus Du Plessis’ recent UFC title defense, the Springboks maintaining their world champion status and Tyla’s musical accolades are all examples of how South Africans are making their presence known on the global stage.
On Sunday, August 18, 2024, South African UFC fighter Dricus Du Plessis retained his UFC Middleweight Championship by submitting Israel Adesanaya. Seven months prior to that, Du Plessis became the first South African UFC champion after he defeated Sean Strickland for the championship.
These recent triumphs build on a wave of victories that all started just less than a year ago when the Springboks won back-to-back World Cups by defeating New Zealand in 2023. Euphoria was injected into the air as South Africans celebrated. The victory showcased that despite the challenges we face as a nation, South Africans can achieve on a world stage.
In the same year, the global music stage was set alight by South African popstar Tyla, who released her breakout hit Water. The single gained Tyla worldwide recognition, receiving a Grammy and a BET award in 2024; achievements which are unprecedented for South African performers. Tyla continues to display her South African pride and has made it easy for her fans to relate with and adore her.
These accomplishments, however, are not enough for us to turn a blind eye to the issues that we face as a nation. South Africa continues to experience high levels of crime as well as high unemployment, with there being an average of 45% youth unemployment. South Africa has a rich history of inequality and oppression, and the longstanding effects of these detriments continue to affect the modern lived experience of South Africans.
So, the question is why could anybody be proud of being a South African? Racism has been a longstanding component of the nation and there continues to be unequal distributions of wealth; why on earth would I be proud of being from such a nation? The answer for me is simple – because it’s my nation of birth and I have no choice but to be proud of it.
Despite the issues that the nation faces, South Africa is made of a variety of beautiful cultures and languages that give us our unique identity. Our differences are our strength in many cases.
2024 has been a great indication of the rollercoaster of emotions that South Africans must endure. In the month of May, the National Elections saw South Africans vote for a new government, resulting in a national coalition government for the first time in its history. This, coupled with Bafana Bafana’s third place victory in the AFCON tournament and the South African Olympic team receiving six medals all make up for an eventful year for South Africans.
I am a proud South African and I am a firm believer that our nation has so much potential to fight for. In the face of challenges and obstacles, I am confident that South Africa will find ways to prevail, and I encourage every South African to share the same belief. We, as South Africans, are not allowing the ghosts of our pasts to affect our present but are rather focused on building a better future for South Africa.
FEATURED IMAGE: South African flag reworked into DNA helix. Photo: Reddit/@lwazilwapheshey
Grassfires have lit up our city and black plumes of smoke have ascended over it too, but whether controlled or wild, these fires spark the debate of whether they are beneficial or not.
Imagine driving down the N1 highway when a white haze takes over the sky and obscures your line of vision. The car, truck or whatever in front of you an unrecognisable haze no matter how hard you squint. Hazards blink at double speed, a desperate safety warning that you are on the road too.
You can smell the scent of burnt grass, smoke filtering through your air vents. You try to close them, but it is too late, the car has already filled with dust and ash. A cough escapes as you wipe your watery eyes and then you see the flames engulfing the nature reserve you drive by every day. Bunnies hope, birds fly, and snakes slither away from the flames. You watch as the firemen throw water on the flames, get in their truck, and drive away.
Johannesburg’s Winter months have seen many grass fires blazing alongside highways and homes, but no one really understands if these fires are readying the ground for new life in Spring, or if they are random and just killing many species in their wake.
Sporadic fires and controlled fires look identical, with the only difference being the havoc they wreak.
Controlled burning of grasslands or velds are actually a common occurrence in Johannesburg and other parts of South Africa. Joburg City Parks says this acts as a firebreak so that if accidental fires do occur, they do not spread very far. However, they also act as an ecological resetter — fire removes dead matter from the ecosystem which could potentially house harmful insects, pests, weeds, or diseases.
Research says dead matter also holds onto nutrients that would otherwise be absorbed into the soil for other plants to use as food. The ash produced from grass fires can also act as a natural fertiliser for plant growth in the Spring as it contains vitamins and minerals like phosphorous, calcium, and potassium.
Examples of these sorts of fires can be seen in the black grass dressing Johannesburg’s velds. Many of us do not even realise a grass fire occurred because it was quick and controlled, but impactful.
Accidental fires, or uncontrolled fires, are not ecologically friendly as they just burn and burn until they are stopped — hopefully. They occur mostly near very dry grasslands, usually due to a lit cigarette being discarded or just bad luck. They sweep close to residential areas, cars, people, and anything else in its path.
Let us not forget the little creatures that never make it out alive like earthworms, spiders, ants, and other insects vital for aerating soil or biologically controlling pests. Bird nests also die in the blaze, including their chicks or eggs that were nestled inside.
An example of this would be the huge black cloud of smoke that covered Brickfield Road in Germiston on Saturday, August 10. What was meant to be a controlled burning of a large veld turned nasty when the wind swept the flames to a neighbouring plastic recycling plant. The smoke let off from these types of fires also contribute to air pollution as it contains harmful greenhouse gases. Bethany Augliere, a writer for Earth Magazine, says burning grass releases nitrogen pollution that harms air quality.
Another instance was on Sunday, August 11, when veld next to a busy main road between Bedfordview and Germiston was under a controlled burn but soon got carried away and closer towards boundary walls of residential homes. Because of the close proximity, this thick and polluted air was inhaled by humans and their pets which can have disastrous health implications. Firemen were told to keep the area on their radar to ensure the flames fizzled themselves out relatively soon, which they did.
Fire is a scary element, one that can burn anything in its path to the ground. As children, we were always told not to play with fire, lest our fingers get burnt. But then we watched phoenixes combust into a blaze on television screens, and saw a new creature emerge from the fire’s centre. So, is fire really just a killer or also a mother giving birth to new life?
FEATURED IMAGE: A huge black plume of smoke adorned the sky in parts of the East Rand on Saturday, August 10, after a veld fire spiralled out of control. Photo: Victoria Hill
Miss South Africa is known as the country’s ambassador but basing that title on beauty alone does not seem all that revolutionary.
I did not clock the Miss South Africa competition was upon us until the social media storm surrounding one contestant, and oh boy, was it a lot. I got dragged in, and then I went on an Olympic-style deep dive myself.
Chidimma Adetshina, born in South Africa to a Nigerian father and a Mozambican mother, a divorcee, and a mother herself, was social media’s victim in recent weeks. Users stated her beauty was a product of her mixed heritage, and she didn’t physically and culturally resemble a ‘Miss South Africa prototype’, whatever that means.
This got me thinking about beauty pageants; about young girls or women dolled up in sparkling dresses and bikinis, strutting down a runway hoping their faces and bodies will dazzle judges. They are scrutinised for being too skinny or too chubby, too blonde or too brunette, too fake or not fake enough. Too Nigerian.
The panel adding a question about how they would want to change the world or how they would achieve world peace does not suddenly make the ordeal self-enlightening or inspiring, so why does Miss Anything still exist?
It surprised me, then, to learn Miss South Africa is in its 66th revolution around the sun. Debuting in 1958, the beauty pageant is still wholly dependent on the principles of its time. It was unironic to read their four core pillars are “duty, championship, empowerment, and beauty”, but the fact this remains unchanged in 2024 is unnerving.
Duty I can get behind, because as the supposed ambassador for South Africa, the crowned queen is expected to engage with her local communities and charities. For example, former Miss South Africa 2023, Natasha Joubert, advocated for education and entrepreneurship and the current queen, Mia Le Roux, promised to work towards a more inclusive society regarding “differentally-abled” individuals.
However, championship is where I start to teeter. This word is associated with winners which contradicts the “spirit of Ubuntu-Botho” the Miss South Africa organisation says it upholds. Sitting at Miss South Africa’s centre is the principle of the winner takes it all, yet they want to be seen as something believing in “I am what I am because of who we all are”. The woman who wears the crown is given a R1 million cash prize, a fully furnished and serviced apartment, and a shiny Mercedes Benz GLC Coupé to drive around; yet she is supposedly the voice of a less-fortunate community who is not bedazzled with jewels — H is for hectic.
Empowerment is an obvious one, and an important pillar in any social organisation. Miss South Africa says they are a “leading voice on women empowerment and a launchpad for much-needed social change”. This is all perfect on paper, but does Miss South Africa really touch that many lives, and if yes, for how long? Do her campaigns reign on for longer than she does, and does South Africa feel empowered when they see the crown settled on her head? I know my answer.
But beauty is where I really stopped in my tracks and did a double-take. Miss South Africa’s reputation is being a beauty pageant where a winner is crowned based on her physical appeal. But, the brand they promote is mountains away from this — they want Miss South Africa to be a leader in social change, yet do this through her objective beauty? It does not gel in my head because choosing a winner based on an icon-sized picture of her face on social media is misogynistic to a tee and I would be wholly disrespected by the process.
Nevertheless, Miss South Africa seems here to stay, and we have no choice but to buckle in for the ride, not that I am a fan of rollercoasters.
FEATURED IMAGE: A graphic created by Victoria Hill
Students should be commended for having part-time jobs as the amount of time and effort required seems excruciating.
Navigating academic life as a postgraduate student in journalism while balancing work has been both exhilarating and challenging. It is a battle between getting good grades while also maintaining your lifestyle.
By day, I always envisioned myself uncovering groundbreaking stories and diving into my bustling side hustle by night. Well, looking at things now, it is safe to say that is not how it is currently unfolding.
Many students in South Africa manage to work part-time jobs while they attend school. Approximately 20% of students in higher education institutions work part-time, per a Stats South Africa report.
The requirement to obtain work experience and provide financial support for their studies is a contributing factor to this trend. Tsatsawani Nkuna, studying BSc in Property Studies at Wits University works part-time as a waitress at a restaurant in Braamfontein to cover her monthly expenses.
Many people are forced to work and study simultaneously due to financial constraints, the rising cost of education, and the need to gain practical work experience. This situation often leads to a challenging but enriching journey where individuals learn to balance multiple responsibilities and build resilience.
Being door staff – the person who charges an entry fee at the Play Braam establishment – is thrilling, as I get to engage with different personalities and learn from some. However, this can sometimes get a bit tiring, as I am someone who runs on a limited social battery.
My working hours are from 10am till 8pm every Saturday and some Sundays. While overtime runs depending on the duration of a certain event taking place, there are also days during the week where there are events, and I am allocated a shift.
Having to show up for my classes whilst making sure I earn money to sustain myself was something that I could easily balance at first. The intensity with having to master my time management skills and prioritizing tasks though is what I struggle with.
There have been instances where I would attend class knowing that I’d have to rush to work right after, and by the time I get to res, exhaustion would kick in.
Every week I juggle coursework and assignments alongside my job. Balancing academic responsibilities leads to a hectic schedule, leaving little time for rest and social activity.
One of the benefits that keeps me going is the financial independence I have acquired. My reasons for taking on a part-time job vary as it covers a part of my tuition fees and my living expenses. Financial independence is also important as it keeps me mindful of my spending habits.
The experience can be incredibly rewarding, but it requires a thoughtful approach to balance and commitment.
Here’s what to expect from airlines if your trips are ever forcefully put on hold, and how to arrive at your destination without too many battle scars.
Besides the obvious inconvenience caused by delayed and cancelled flights, the process of rebooking can be equally stressful . I was recently in this situation, and I couldn’t help but worry that making the wrong move, or taking too long figuring things out might leave me stranded in a foreign country. In this guide I will explain how not to make the same mistakes I did in my recent travels.
During the winter break, I went to visit my family in Italy and was meant to return on Sunday July 14, the day before third term. However, because of air traffic at Zürich Airport, I missed my connecting flight back to Johannesburg. Twelve hours of travel turned into sixty, and I only arrived on the morning of Wednesday July 17.
In a situation like this, the first thing you should do – besides trying your best to keep calm – is understand your rights as a passenger. Depending on where in the world you’re flying and who regulates said region, you can expect differing forms of compensation if your travels are delayed for an extended period.
For example, according to Regulation (EC) No 261/2004, when flying from European Union (EU) countries, or with EU-based airline carriers, you’re entitled to between EUR 200 and EUR 600 in compensation. This depends on the distance of your flight, as well as if you can prove that your carrier was at fault for the delay, and not due to an “extraordinary circumstance”. Unfortunately, because of this legal loophole, my compensation is pending indefinitely.
Now that you know what you’re entitled to, ask a flight attendant where the nearest transfer desk is (there may also be an airport map you can download to help you navigate any winding corridors and sprawls of other lost passengers). Transfer desks are where you report your situation and request to be rebooked, if you haven’t been automatically rebooked by your carrier.
On that note, transfer desks are the worst part of any airport, only really serving frustrated travellers desperate to get home. Bickering, insults and profanity surrounded most of the transfer desks I encountered, as well as swells of queue-cutters and exasperated faces. I was automatically rebooked by my carrier, Swiss Air, but I still needed to find the transfer desk because I had mistakenly been re-routed to Johannesburg via John F. Kennedy International Airport in New York.
Thankfully, I instead ended up heading home via Addis Ababa, and arriving in Ethiopia was like a breath of fresh air in comparison to Zürich. The Swiss are notorious for their administrative ability, but, in my experience, the lack of organisation mixed with a widely shared superiority complex amongst many Swiss Air employees made my time in Zürich excessively grating.
My layover in Addis Ababa, however, was markedly more positive. Efficient and friendly service made the twelve hours spent in Ethiopia fly by. Ethiopian Airways have won best African airline seven years in a row and, in my experience, their attention to detail and care for their clients put Swiss Air to shame.
As confused travellers, there is a tendency to allow those who are in charge to dictate your experience. Following these steps may help you regain some semblance of control in the chaos that consumes all airports. Learning from my own missteps, I hope I have been able provide some guidance and respite to any other novice travellers who might feel lost or overwhelmed.
FEATURED IMAGE: Example of a Flight Information Display System (FIDS) in an airport. Photo: Adobe Stock
As a South African, I have a renowned sense of love and respect for all the wildlife we share our land with. However, when tourists arrive and make their own rules, it not only upsets the animals, but also disturbs me.
One morning a few Septembers ago in the Pilansberg Nature Reserve, a group of us went on an early morning bush walk. The crisp, fresh air whipped around our ears. The only audible sounds were leaves crunching beneath our feet and the game ranger’s quiet whispers. Then, suddenly, an elephant emerged, strolling leisurely through the dry savannah. Beside it, a baby, probably just a few weeks old, trudging along and almost stumbling beneath its mother’s big tummy — seemingly, without a care in the world. It was a sight to be savoured, in silence, with respect, for the wild is exhilaratingly awesome, but remains unpredictable.
In the international Wild for Wildlife month of July, I could not help but recall just how much I both love and admire wildlife, a proudly South African thing to do. These thoughts of pride are however interrupted by the stories of tourists performing traitorous acts in our nature reserves that have serious consequences for both humans and animals. It is a privilege to experience nature in its purest form and we must remember our place as a visitor in wildlife’s home.
But why are humans so drawn to nature in the first place?
Well, the term “biophilia” describes our humane tendency to seek connections with earth’s living forms. In the 21st century, we are more disconnected from nature than ever before due to the fast-walking and quick-typing world in which we now live. Being in the bush allows us to rekindle a lost relationship and slow life down to appreciate its intricate details.
However, these wild animals which we love are not cute, fuzzy, domestic creatures; they are incredible but wildly wild animals and should be treated as such. I have entered their home countless times and have left this natural habitat without a scratch. This is paradoxical to other tourists’ experiences who venture off and find themselves in harm’s way.
Whilst there have been cases of tourists getting out of their vehicles for a closer snapshot of primitive scenes, I have always heeded the instructions of game rangers and signposts dotted about nature parks. No matter how much I wish I could pick up a lion cub for a cuddle, I know it is not a smart thing to do if its mother is watching. If we put ourselves in the animal’s shoes, we would find their emotions and actions are not so different to ours. Unbeknown to many, wild animals do not view humans as prey and will only attack if provoked.
However, humans are the ones who have the ability to think about their actions instead of just acting on instinct. This comes with the responsibility of understanding that wildlife will never halt in their tracks, and we should not expect them to.
This is the moral behind Wild for Wildlife and for the many days left, I will be thanking my lucky stars that I get to live in the heart of nature.
People have been part of fandoms for years, finding a sense of community in shared interests. However, these ‘havens’ are not safe from public ridicule, and women know that best.
Screaming, cheering, and a little infighting all come with the territory of being a fan of anything. As someone who is part of both football and music fanbases, I have seen how patriarchy can make fandoms, especially on Twitter and other social media sites, hellish.
When people think of fandoms, the concept of ‘fangirling’ often comes to mind, conjuring images of hysterical women and massive crowds. These visuals can be accurate, but the hysterics and crowds are not exclusive to female fanbases and are a huge part of male fan culture too.
I come from a very big football loving family, with weekends spent watching Arsenal, Pirates, or Barcelona games, and I am no stranger to the highs and lows of football fan spaces. As a part of many online football spaces, I have seen the celebrations and conflicts that take place when teams win or lose and the vitriol that even players can face, and this is a much less discussed aspect of fan culture.
Football fandoms have historically been heavily male-dominated. The perception of men as reasonable and logical has managed to shield them from the criticism that has plagued women in more female-dominated fandoms like music and pop culture.
At the recent Copa America final, Argentina vs Colombia fans caused chaos by storming Miami’s Hard Rock Stadium before kick-off. Huge crowds of ticketless fans attempted to enter the stadium and had to be forcibly removed from the premises, while others climbed into the stadium’s vents to try to gain entry. These fans fought the police and destroyed the stadium’s escalators. This type of behaviour from sports fans is usually described as ‘passionate’ and ‘dedicated’ instead of ‘rabid’ and ‘crazy’ in the way female fans’ behaviours tend to be considered.
A perfect example is the perception of fans of the K-pop group, BTS, who are known for being committed to and protective over the group. As a member of this fandom, I have often seen the ridicule that fans face for collecting albums, or attending BTS events, with many being considered ‘shallow’ and ‘irrational’.
BTS has sold out stadiums like Wembley and the Rose Bowl and has never had issues with fans fighting or destroying property, instead, BTS fans tend to organise care packages and goodie bags for fellow fans whenever they attend these events, and they have even helped to clean up after shows. Despite this, only one of these groups is seen as ‘wild’ and it is not the sports fans.
These perceptions are just some of the many that position women’s interests and their enthusiasm as obsessive and childish while men are just viewed as excitable. To me, this indicates a bigger societal issue of misogyny, which reinforces gender stereotypes that harm women and validate men.
While these examples showcase the most extreme on either end, it is obvious that there may be obsessive female fans and more temperate male fans, which is exactly why it is important to avoid generalising these topics as this can easily spread harmful rhetoric.
Overall, many fan activities are similar across different fields: baseball fans collect player cards, and K-pop fans collect photocards. Basketball fans collect signed jerseys, and hip-hop fans collect signed albums. Football fans paint their faces, and pop fans wear costumes. I have seen women scream as Justin Bieber sang on stage and I have seen men cry as Messi scored a penalty which I think makes it safe to say that they all sit at the same table.
FEATURED IMAGE: A crowd of fans at the Hey Neighbour festival. Photo: Kamogelo Kungwane
International Academic Day is dedicated to recognizing and appreciating academia, but what does academic freedom mean in South Africa.
According to the Academy of Science of South Africa (ASSAf) academic freedom is a right that allows students and lecturers to research, teach and express their views without any fear or interference.
The Academy of Science states that in the South African constitution, under the freedom of speech clause, academic freedom is guaranteed. This right was reinforced by the 1997 formal document titled:White Paper 3: A Programme for the Transformation of Higher Education. This document highlights academic freedom as the pillar for transforming higher education after Apartheid.
The first International Academic Freedom Day, May 20 was announced by Academics for Academic Freedom (AFAF) in November 2023, with the goal of promoting and defending academic freedom globally through various activities, such as lectures, seminars, and debates.
For many academia might evoke images of complex theories and debates. For me, however, academic freedom is about the opportunity to pursue knowledge, and exploring the subjects that ignite my curiosity and passion. Whether delving into the depths of physics or literature, academic freedom should empower me to choose my career path and follow it.
This freedom is more than just a curriculum to me; it is about nurturing my talents and transforming them into skills. It is through the space of academics where my God given talents have been nurtured, and further strengthened. I’ve always known I had a talent for radio presenting but didn’t know how to pursue it. As a student journalist, I’ve realized I can leverage my innate talent as a skill in broadcast journalism. I’ve also developed other abilities like writing and digital content creation in this academic setting.
Additionally, I believe academic freedom is also about resilience and triumph. It is about overcoming the challenges that come with being a student, whether they are academic, financial, or personal challenges.
This freedom is about standing victorious and emerging stronger not just because I have completed a degree or passed an exam, but because I have grown intellectually and personally. Academic freedom for me is a constitutional right that has allowed me to explore, grow, and unlock my full potential.
FEATURED IMAGE: Lona Sokanyile. Photo. File/Leon Sadiki
While South Africa’s TV screens lack no new telenovelas; the industry constantly fails to produce interesting story ideas that can keep viewers intrigued.
On February 23, 2024, Thabang Moleya, a South African Director, who has worked on projects such as Gomora (2020) and The Herd (2018) posted a question on X, asking his followers what stories they would like to see more of. Moleya explained that he posed the question because he is aware of audiences’ dislike towards the typical South African stories surrounding politics, taxi wars and “unnecessary sex scenes.”
What followed was a deluge of reposts and replies with people vocalizing their dissatisfaction with the industry. “It is not even about the storylines. The cast has no diversity. Everything looks like characters in a room reciting dialogue,” X user Siwe Memela replied. Another X user suggested a South African Science Fiction like the existing film Snowpiercer.
Popular telenovelas like “The Wife and The Queen have had their fair time in the spotlight; keeping viewers glued to their screens for a nightly fix of scandal-infused storylines – specifically stories about the drug industry.
After The River ended in 2024, BET launched Queendom, featuring familiar faces like Sindi Dlathu, Linda Mtoba and Hamilton Dlamini. Queendom follows Nthandokayise, community leader who discovers she is the heir to the Khahlamba Kingdom’s throne – a storyline previously explored on Mzansi Magic’s The Throne.
This is one of the problems viewers and inspiring actors face as the industry tends to recycle the same talent– which often leaves no room for diversified storytelling as actors get typecast; and new talent has no room for entry.
Despite Moleya’s question, audiences have always expressed their fatigue with these familiar storylines, and unfortunately the entry of streaming giant Netflix has meant more of the same.
Netflix South Africa requires writers and filmmakers to pitch to established agencies or a production companies with a proven track record, before they can get on the platform.
These agencies and production companies can be risk averse and often shy away from hiring new talent, preferring to collaborate with established industry professionals.
While broadcasters like SABC, Mzansi Magic, and Moja Love provide direct pitching opportunities, my experience as a religious viewer of South African series and telenovelas suggest that these platforms rarely produce fresh ideas.
According to News24, three aspiring content producers claim the Moja Love channel commissioned their proposals without informing or involving them.
However, South Africa’s law, as explained by a legal blog PopLaw, ideas themselves are not protected by copyright. “In order to qualify for copyright protection, an idea needs to be reduced, using the author’s own skill and effort, to material form.”
I believe the industry could be transformed by getting new writers into writers-room; and by recognizing that South African audiences want to see stories that reflect the current times.
FEATURED IMAGE: Ofentse vents about the South African Film Industry. Photo: Ofentse Tladi
As an honours student in journalism, when navigating the challenges of upholding academic rigour and minimising self-doubt, I battle with myself.
Usually when I sit in my journalism lectures, surrounded by talented peers and esteemed professors, I often hear a nagging voice: You do not belong here. It’s a feeling that’s all too familiar: imposter syndrome. The feeling that I am just pretending, and everyone will soon discover my inadequacy.
Imposter syndrome is a phenomenon where individuals doubt their own abilities, despite evidence of their competence. In my own experience, I’ve seen talented students question their own intelligence and capabilities, attributing their achievements to sheer luck or circumstance; rather than their own hard work and dedication.
A study published in the Journal of Student Researchfound that imposter syndrome is a significant predictor of academic anxiety and depression among young graduates.
Personally, I have been guilty of downplaying my own achievements, including my decision to pursue my honours in Journalism. I have often made jokes to my friends that I am only here by some miracle, or that I am just winging it and hoping for the best.
However, the truth is, I have worked incredibly hard to be here, and I have earned my place in this programme. I started to realise that it is time for me to own that; and recognise my achievements are not a result of circumstance, but of my own dedication and perseverance.
I’ve been so hard on myself; but hearing how my close friends and family are proud of me, has helped me to start celebrating my own accomplishments.
As I navigate my own struggles with imposter syndrome, I’ve learned to not take my inner voice too seriously. When self-doubt creeps in, I reflect on my accomplishments — like completing a challenging assignment or receiving positive feedback from a lecturer. By focusing on my strengths and reframing my mindset, I’m building confidence in my abilities and overcoming the grip of imposter syndrome.
I also try not to dwell too much on my mistakes by recoginsing that perusing this degree has offered me the opportunity to learn; while I get to focus on my passion of telling stories. This has helped me to see failure as an opportunity for growth. When I receive constructive criticism or face setbacks, I use it as a chance to learn and improve.
Also, surrounding myself with a supporting community has helped because they see me behind my current struggles. I believe by acknowledging and challenging our own imposter syndrome, we can begin to break down the barriers that hold us back from achieving our full potential, and we can learn to embrace our success. And as we do, we will find that we are more confident, more resilient, and more empowered to make a meaningful impact in the world around us.
Fourteen days without electricity turned my academic ambitions into a harrowing experience.
On the night of May 1, 2024, Braamfontein turned pitch black, as a power outage plunged some parts of the inner city into darkness.
I was in the newsroom, situated at the E’skia Mphahlele building on Wits East Campus, writing a review of a theatre play I had watched. Living in a country where loadshedding and power interruptions have become the norm, I did not take the outage to mind, thinking the electricity would be restored in a couple of hours.
The next morning, Johannesburg City Power revealed that underground cables in the Braamfontein area had caught fire, due to suspected cable theft and vandalism. Knowing the city is overseeing the situation, I further relaxed, thinking the matter would be fixed swiftly, but that did not happen.
Since productivity was limited in my residence room, my daily routine changed dramatically — the library in Solomon Mahlangu House became my accommodation, where I rose early to charge my devices, eat, and do some coursework.
As a journalism student, I typically have one or two classes daily, allowing ample time for writing articles, research, and programme engagement. I spend most days on campus, occasionally returning to my residence to rest or prepare meals between classes.
By 10 o’clock in the evenings, I normally return to my room which is a walking distance from campus. I typically buy groceries and cook to save money.
As food prices have gone up due to inflation. I have resorted to only having one or two meals a day. I sometimes grab lunch provided by the Wits Citizen and Community Outreach (WCCO) programme but in most cases, this clashes with my classes, forcing me to improvise.
But on Saturday May 5, 2024, after a basketball game, I returned to find all my recently bought food spoiled in the fridge, just after I had stocked up for the whole month, a financial setback of note.
Due to only having borehole water at my residence as well as a scarcity of water when there are power outages, I then resorted to commuting to Wits Junction daily so that I could shower at my friend’s place before heading to class.
I felt hopeless and exhausted, unable to change my situation — fueling resentment for this place called Braamfontein. Without financial assistance or a food allowance, I had to dig deeper into my own pockets. I observed Darwinism firsthand as “survival of the fittest” unfolded in its ruthless and pragmatic manner.
This situation was a defining moment for me, the emotions I felt, made me look at things differently. Mainly, that challenges will come, but my resilience can see me through.
Finally, on May 13, 2024, the lights in Braamfontein flickered back to life after a long two weeks. Immediately when the lights came on, the joyous screams of students filled the air, and as if on cue, rain showers descend, bringing a sense of renewal amidst the chaos.
FEATURED IMAGE: Salim Nkosi Photo: File/Leon Sadiki
Have we overlooked the corpses left behind in this battle of the Hip-Hop Gods?
Conflict (or ‘beef’) is an inevitable product of Hip-Hop culture. In a genre where egoism, braggadocio and constant one-upping form an essential component of the rap identity, it is only natural that heads will clash from time to time.
After all, Hip-Hop is somewhat like a competitive sport where being in the top spot guarantees access to money, acclaim, and power. It is essentially a fight for a pedestal, and in this context the ongoing beef between Drake (Aubrey Graham) and Kendrick Lamar – two of the genre’s biggest names – is a heavyweight showdown for the crown of modern Hip-Hop.
The conflict began when Lamar featured on Future and Metro Boomin’s track ‘Like That’ where he laid his claim to the crown of hip-hop in the now viral line “motherf**k the big three, n***a it’s just big me” in reference to J. Cole labelling himself, Drake, and Lamar as the three biggest names in Hip-Hop on the track ‘First Person Shooter’.
Lamar’s feature quickly sparked rumours of possible tensions between himself and Drake. Since, the rumours have escalated into a full-on war of words between the two. On April 30, Lamar released a six-minute diss track ‘euphoria’ attacking Drake for appropriating black culture and being a neglectful father amidst a series of pointed insults.
As a Hip-Hop lover and Lamar fan, this diss track excited me. It was to me a masterful display of what a Hip-Hop beef is all about: using lyrical prowess to attack your enemy’s character. The creativity and wordplay used to insult Drake reminded me of why I fell in love with rap in the first place. But the developments since then have been disheartening and exposed the ugly truth behind Hip-Hop and the music industry at large.
Since ‘euphoria’, both have released further diss tracks aimed at one another. Whilst at first glance this should excite fans of Hip-Hop and lovers of scandal, one listen to any of the diss tracks on offer makes it abundantly clear that what’s at play is deeper than Hip-Hop or petty conflict.
Both parties have made serious allegations against one another. Drake has accused Lamar of domestic abuse and Lamar has accused Drake of paedophilia and associating with sex traffickers. While all allegations deserve exposure, the way it has been done is questionable.
Instead of acknowledging the gravity of the allegations, both seem to be using them to simply hurt each other. It appears as if accusations of serious crimes have been reduced to schoolyard insults.
In ‘Family Matters’ Drake says: “When you put your hands on your girl, is it self-defence ‘cause she bigger than you?”. While accusing Lamar of abuse, this is a mere set up for the punchline that Lamar is short. Furthermore, on ‘Not Like Us’ Lamar states: “Tryna strike a chord and it’s probably A minor”, using wordplay to refer to Drake’s alleged paedophilia.
Should matters as serious as woman and child abuse be reduced to punchlines and wordplay? It’s one thing to attack your competitor, but it’s completely different when other people have been potentially hurt by their actions, especially women and young girls. To have their potential trauma reduced to tools to attack your competitor appears selfish and insensitive, particularly in a genre notoriously accused of misogyny.
The important question is whether these alleged crimes have been exposed in the name of justice or vanity. Based on the lyrics on display, I would think the latter. It appears as if the ego essential to the rap identity has consumed the two to the point that they have become blind to the world around them – all they see is each other. And for artists as influential as Drake and Kendrick Lamar, undermining abuse and molestation sends a harmful message to their fanbase.
This beef is a warning to fans of music. We tend to mystify and glorify the artists we love. I have made the mistake of attaching a prophet’s status to Lamar. But this has showed that they are no less broken than we are – the only difference is that they have power and a platform.
As the audience, the question should no longer be about who is beating who in a petty beef. Rather, the question should be: are the allegations true or not and if so, will justice be delivered to the women and children affected?
Boyzn’Braam is a semi-fictional podcast that explores the cultural scene in Braamfontein. From music to fashion, Boyzn’Braam interrogates what culture looks like in modern Braamfontein, especially for the students who bring it to life. In this episode our aspiring rapper realizes that Hip-Hop is more than just a sound but a brand that needs a […]