Mama Africa: the image of a South African singer, songwriter and a fierce civil rights activist reduced to the representation by a British-Nigerian actor?
The Road Home is an upcoming a musical drama, set to begin filming in June 2026, with no official release date. It explores Miriam Makeba and Hugh Masekela during apartheid and their pointed efforts against the regime. Makeba will be portrayed by British actress, Cynthia Erivo and Masekela by South African actor, Thabo Rametsi.
The film is written by the famous South African author, Zakes Mda and is to be directed by Bill Condon, the American director and writer behind the film adaptations of musicals, Chicago and Dreamgirls.
The casting of Erivo to portray Miriam Makeba in the film has sparked quite the conversation, with many contradicting views. Social media users asked how the lived experiences of a black South African Xhosa woman can be reimagined for the big screen by a non-South African? Of particular concern – language. You know, the “Igqirha lendlela nguqo ngqothwane” of it all.
Those concerned about the casting want a seasoned South African professional actress at the helm. There are many examples like Thuso Mbedu, Nomzambo Mbatha, and Bonnie Mbuli to name a few with international silver screen experience. However, in the film and television industry’s eyes, the value of the Xhosa tongue is nothing compared to the power of a global British passport.
While I have nothing but the best wishes for Cynthia Erivo, a talented, multi-award-winning actress with a voice like the harmony of angels. I cannot help but face the uncomfortable truth about how African legacies are portrayed in film and television. Can Erivo truly embody the linguistic and cultural texture of an iconic Xhosa woman like Makeba? A woman who was boldly and unapologetically South African.
To ignore the skills of an actress and singer-songwriter like Erivo would be to disrespect her craft. In her own pedigree, she too is an icon, a powerhouse. Erivo is no stranger to portraying legends in the music industry. One such example is her portrayal of Aretha Franklin in the National Geographic anthology series “Genuis: Aretha” (2021). Receiving an Emmy nomination for her performance.
She ticks the boxes. She will look the part; she will act the part and will most certainly sing the part, but will her singing be a mere imitation? Will she truly be able to fully embrace the South African identity that comes with Miriam Makeba’s songs that were tools to fight injustices during apartheid?
In addition to the cultural texture that accompanies a powerhouse like Makeba is also the language in which Makeba sang: isiXhosa. In her 1963 performance of “Qongqothwane” live on Ce Soir à Cannes, Makeba prefaces the performance by emphasising that the English speaker cannot say the name of the song thus they call it “the click song.” Even then, Makeba chose to proudly embrace her identity and prove that black South African culture mattered.
Miriam was defiant; she was fierce, and she was proudly a black, Xhosa South African woman even in her exile. Her songs weren’t just words on a paper; they were incantations. They were brilliant. They were the representation of the South African nation fighting against discrimination.
This is not about preference for South Africans; it is about having our cultures represented by the very people that speak and live them.
FEATURED IMAGE: Graphic of legendary South African singer Miriam Makeba, taken by Paul Weinberg and Cynthia Erivo at an FYC panel for Wicked in Santa Monica, California taken by Kevin Paul. Source: Wikimedia Commons.
“A society that discourages critical thinking is unwittingly admitting that its foundations can’t survive honest examination.” – Kalen Dion
During my Undergraduate degree, I was assigned a group presentation on France’s foreign policy. It was a layered topic: one that required days of research and rigorous group meetings. One of my group mates, however, insisted on using ChatGPT to write her entire speech.
Unluckily for her, our professor happened to be an expert in French policy. Like a bloodhound, he sniffed out numerous inaccuracies in her speech. In front of the entire class, she had spewed flimsy words, inaccurate facts and false statistics from ChatGPT mindlessly. She presented the information as confidently as if she herself wrote it.
Ask anyone and they’ve probably used AI at least once. It’s so deeply entrenched in our everyday lives; it’s inescapable. When you write an email, an AI suggestion pops up recommending what to say. When you open Instagram, you’re bombarded with a surge of AI-generated reels. Even something as simple as a Google search has an automatic AI summary built in.
AI has burrowed itself so deeply into every channel of our lives that it has become difficult to imagine life without it. But is AI training us to be passive consumers of information?
A study by MIT Media Lab revealed that participants who had used AI to write their essays showed extremely low brain activity compared to those that didn’t. This was largely because they were not actively engaging with any of the material; they were simply parroting it. Ultimately, the tool that was built to supplement our thinking is, in many cases, actually replacing it.
This has dangerous repercussions for human development. If we blindly consume content generated by AI, what else will we be blind to?
In George Orwell’s infamous 1984, he depicts a totalitarian society in which independent thought is abolished under the dictatorship of Big Brother. At the time, it seemed like a fictional dystopia, a far-off tale too outrageous to be taken seriously. Now, it has bled into our reality.
It was Steve Biko who once said, “The greatest weapon in the hand of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed.”
We must hold onto our vigilance. We must sharpen our minds. The world is undergoing a rapid digital shift. Our ability to think, to question what we know so that we are not mindless followers becomes our greatest and most potent weapon.
FEATURED IMAGE: Headshot of Jamie Ho, this week’s editor.
Artificial intelligence has the power to enhance journalism, but is journalism in more danger because of it?
Amid the chaos of a digital landscape currently being agitated and renovated by generative artificial intelligence, the news industry is no exception to its explosive impact. UNESCO aims to address this at a conference in Brussels on May 7 in commemoration of the 32nd World Press Freedom Day.
World Press Freedom Day takes place annually on May 3 to highlight the press’s current challenges and to raise awareness.
This year, the focus is on ‘Reporting in the Brave New World – the impact of artificial intelligence (AI) on press freedom and the media, highlighting the opportunities and challenges that AI has brought to journalism.
Unsurprisingly, generative AI is taking centre stage, as its disruption to the world of technology is too stark to ignore, especially in the news industry.
Principally, we know that news summarises and simplifies information. Broadcasts and articles essentially catch you up on current, recent or ongoing events and weave in analysis or interpretation.
So, does involving AI in this process really pose a threat as a technology that can soak up information in one form, drawing from existing sources to pour the same information into a different mould after?
Yes and no. I believe that anything involving AI means walking a tightrope and, as journalists, falling off that rope means jeopardising the foundation within which journalistic practice is built on — ethics.
A 2025 report by Thomas Reuters Foundation (TRF), paints the nuances of AI use in journalism in the Global South.
It states that 81.7% of journalists already use AI tools like CHATGPT in their journalistic work for drafting and editing content, research, fact-checking and idea generation to save time, reach new audiences and work more efficiently. Starkly, only 13% report using any official AI policy with 79.1% reporting an absence of any clear guidelines.
Of the few non-users, lack of awareness or knowledge of AI tools, insufficient training and support, lack of access to necessary technology, concerns about accuracy and reliability, ethical concerns, preference over traditional methods and fear of job displacement were some of the main reasons for not using AI.
Where newsrooms lack formal guidance and self-education on using AI tools prevails, transparency becomes fragile which is concerning when trust in journalism and the media is already tainted. I am at a crossroads because if AI use is disclosed in news articles, I’m not entirely sure if that would make me trust a news agency more.
That is because I value journalism’s core ethics and skills: original reporting, quality, accuracy, fact-checking and source verification.
Where ethics are concerned, one may question if post-evaluation of AI produced content was done because AI is known to sometimes hallucinate information, supercharging the spread of misinformation. So, as journalism is defined, it still leads as a reliable, fact-checked source of information.
Another ethical concern, as highlighted by The Conversation, is that while journalists may ask for the generation of summaries or idea prompts, sensitive information or copyrighted material is inadvertently uploaded into these public generative AI tools, which not only contravenes company policies but journalistic integrity.
TRF recommends that journalists “understand the ethical implications of AI”. These include “advocating for policies and practices that protect journalistic integrity, while also ensuring fairness and accuracy, and promoting trust with audiences.”
All of this considered, I cannot downplay the ease that AI has brought journalists. It should be welcomed in newsrooms as long as originality and critical thinking isn’t destroyed in the process.
FEATURED IMAGE: Live news broadcast by robot news anchor with breaking news lower thirds and a digital world backdrop. Graphic: Lukholo Mazibuko
The IPID has dropped its charges against KZN’s Provincial Police Commissioner due to a lack of evidence.
The Independent Police Investigative Directorate (IPID) has officially dropped its charges against the Provincial Police Commissioner of KwaZulu-Natal (KZN). The case, launched on March 19, was a result of an anonymous tip off against Lieutenant General Nhlanhla Mkhwanazi.
According to EyeWitness News, he was accused of having cleared allegations against a prison official, Feroz Khan, who was alleged to have interfered in a drug dealing case.
There’s been a lot of noise around Mkhwanazi lately. Under his leadership, KZN has seen a more assertive police force that isn’t afraid to take the fight to criminals. As recent as January 30, the police were involved in a shootout with Inanda West Gang, a notorious gang that has been terrorising communities in northern Durban.
Mkhwanazi has publicly declared war on gang crime and gun violence, with over 100 suspects getting killed during confrontations with KZN police units. It’s no surprise that figures like National Assembly Chairperson of the Portfolio Committee of Police Ian Cameron have raised concerns about the political undertones of the IPID’s case against Mkhwanazi.
There are questions worth asking. Was this ever really about justice, or just a way to sideline a cop who doesn’t play politics? The latest crime stats from the South African Police Service (SAPS), ranging from October to December 2024, show a 1.6% decrease in contact crime. KZN showed a significant decrease in murders by 9.5% amongst other contact-related crimes.
Some commentators have tried to paint his approach as ruthless and unduly lethal, with the DA leading the charge of pressuring SAPS to implement body cams for everyday operations. However, if that means showing up, cracking down on drug networks and, sending a clear message to criminals, then maybe it’s what the rest of the country needs to adapt to.
Recent data from the IPID in the fiscal year of 2023-2024 reported significant concerns regarding the use of force by the South African Police Service (SAPS) and they additionally reported 187 deaths resulting from police action in KZN, the highest in all provinces. This alarming number was countered by Minister of Police Senzo Mchunu, who argues that these were results of police acting in self-defence against suspects.
Law enforcement can’t be effective when it’s second-guessed at every turn by people who’ve never been put in highly threatening situations. Communities under siege from gangs and drug dealers don’t need long lectures, they need decisive action. Mkhwanazi has been open in recent interviews about the fact that being soft on crime simply doesn’t work in this country and he’s not wrong.
Perhaps, it is time we let more leaders like him do just that, even if we disagree with the methods at hand. A stronger law enforcement system is needed now more than ever, with a balanced reform of policing and law enforcement protocols. That will assist in ensuring that all crime is addressed fairly, immediately and without bias against SAPS.
FEATURED IMAGE: Katlego Makhutle. Photo: File/Paul Botes
Lobola negotiations are the cornerstone of some South African cultures, and no one grasps this better than Ace Ngubeni, the ultimate lobola negotiator.
Directed by Thabang Moleya, Lobola Man is a brilliantly executed romantic com that stands out with its unique concept. It centres on a character who turns the uncommon role of a Lobola negotiator into a full-fledged career. While being a lobola negotiator is typically a one-time or occasional event in real life, the film creatively imagines it as a recurring career, presenting this imaginative twist with a fun and light-hearted approach.
Given the predictability of the plot, the film still manages to captivate you with its sharp humour and wit. It skilfully embraces classic rom com tropes, like the notorious player finally meeting “the one” and the familiar enemies-to-lovers arc.
This film thoughtfully displays cultural diversity through authentic attire, accurately reflecting each culture’s unique identity. Ngubeni’s sharp intellect shines as he steps into a family home as a “fake” relative, quickly reading the room and using his keen observations to gain valuable insights into the family’s dynamics and strategizes the best way to win them over.
The film’s cinematography perfectly complements the genre, utilizing bright lighting that enhances the vivid, colourful clothing. The soundtrack, featuring lively South African classics like “Faki Mali” by Tumza D’Kota, further energises the narrative. The deliberate use of colour and lighting not only amplifies the atmosphere but captures the essence of city life and young adulthood.
Duke Maseko, portrayed by 31-year-old actor Sandile Mahlangu, is one of the Lobola Man’s more amusing clients. The dynamic between Ngubeni and Maseko adds a layer of humour to the film, as Maseko, unimpressed by his own family, enlists Ngubeni’s help to secure his marriage. Their playful, offbeat relationship brings a fun energy to the story, making their interactions a highlight to the film.
Overall, Lobola Man is a refreshing and entertaining watch. Its vibrant cinematography and engaging performances make it a standard rom com that offers both laughs and heart.
Whether you are familiar with Lobola negotiations or new to the concept, this film delivers with a fun, light-hearted experience that is well worth your time.
Vuvu Rating: 9/10.
FEATURED IMAGE:Netflix SA Lobola Man Meme by Netflix SA on Instagram.
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.
The four pillars of the Miss South Africa organisation, some broken, some solid. Graphic: Victoria Hill
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
Given how misleading period adverts can often be, it is easy to question what truly makes an advert effective.
Advertisers would have you believe periods are a dance party or a carefree stroll in the park. In reality, they are an emotional rollercoaster, and it is time we saw the truth.
Looking into what separates a good advert from a bad one. Graphic: Ofentse Tladi
The latest Always advert opens with five women in vibrant colours dancing energetically. As they dance, three boys dressed similarly appear, looking surprised by the scene. One girl playfully dances over one of the boys, heightening his surprise. The advert then wraps up with the product prominently displayed, highlighting the sanitary pad.
Instead of showing the reality of pain and discomfort, it presents an unrealistic and misleading image. Moreover, the scene where the girl dances over the guy feels inappropriate and out of touch with the true experiences of women on their periods.
The potential intention behind this advert is understandable as it aims to cast periods in a positive light rather than focusing on the negatives, perhaps to try bring hope to those who experience them. However, the reality of what one truly experiences during their period is more grim.
According to the National Institute of Health, many women and girls suffer from abdominal pain during their periods, a condition known as dysmenorrhea. This condition has psycho-emotional symptoms such as anger, irritability, and depression.
As a writer with a Bachelor of Creative Writing from AFDA, where I studied promotional writing and won the Undergraduate Discipline Merit Award in that field, I have substantial knowledge in promotional writing to decipher what separates a good advert from a bad one.
The basis of promotional writing and advertising is about connecting with your target audience. You want to make them feel seen, heard, and most importantly, you want a powerful call to action that compels them to take immediate action.
A recent Kotex advert titled “ProgressFeelsLike” exemplifies what I believe period advertising should be. The advert captures the often overlooked discomfort women experience during their periods.
It uses a narrative format, combining powerful voiceover with clips of women pushing through the sharp grip f cramps during meetings, discreetly checking for leaks on their pants in crowded spaces and fighting exhaustion while caring for their family.
The line, “being dismissed is being on your period,” underscores the frustration of having your struggles minimized simply because you are menstruating.
Another powerful line, “not comfortable, seen as not capable enough or as behaving enough,” captures the harsh judgements women often endure while on their periods.
These judgements manifest in different ways – being perceived as overly emotional or unreliable at work, having their capabilities questioned simply because of the natural biological process, or being labelled as moody or difficult to work with.
These assumptions can lead to women being dismissed or overlooked in both professional and personal settings, reinforcing the stigma and silence surrounding menstruation.
The world of promotional writing is really about storytelling. It is about using your brand to craft narratives that draw your audience into your world. Understanding your audience’s needs, desires, and pain points and then communicating how your brand can meet those needs in an authentic way.
Advertising is not just about making a noise and selling a product; it is about creating a melody that lingers in people’s minds long after the campaign is over.
FEATURED IMAGE: Ofentse Tladi, 2024 Wits Vuvuzela Journalist. Photo: File/ Leon Sadiki.
Growing up, most boys my age were obsessed with sports, gadgets and girls – I was obsessed with changing my family’s fortunes.
Growing up in a neighbourhood like Daveyton in Johannesburg’s East Rand, survival was a constant battle and dreams of graduating seemed like a far-fetched fantasy.
The sounds of gunshots, reverberating Kwaito and house beats were often my offbeat lullaby. The constant buzz of township life mirrored my internal thoughts, often filled with doubt, anxiety and hope.
Sharing the joy of graduation with the one who has been with me every step of the way. Photo: Simphiwe Mkheloe
I normally refer to myself as the son of a street vendor. My mother is an unemployed single woman who worked tirelessly to pave the way for my success.
The money she made from selling fruits, vegetables and snacks on the side of the road, was the first investment in my education. Education was a scarce commodity in our neighbourhood, yet she ingrained in me the belief that education holds the key to a better future.
I grew up in a small household and most of my weekdays were spent at Lekamoso Secondary School, while my weekends occasionally consisted of helping my mom with her vending business.
The corner at which my mother’s vending business is located showcases different role-plays of individuals: some are the product of the system, and others demonstrate how a life of bad choices can turn out. To me, all these scenarios served as life lessons that taught me which paths I do and do not wish to follow.
Despite learning about running a business from a young age, I ironically still grapple with impulsive spending habits. But, from dealing with difficult customers I learnt patience and humility.
My mother dreams of a day without having to wake up to endure the harsh weather conditions to provide for her family. I often look at her and remember all the promises I made to fulfill her dreams. It is inspiring that despite being in her fifties, she still believes success is possible, especially through me. Her words encourage me to pursue success relentlessly and with every fibre of my being.
One thing she has always advised me was to never compare myself with my peers. I have never felt like she was not enough as a parent just because she could not provide everything that I desired or everything that those around me had, she taught me to work for what I want.
My family and surroundings never laid the blueprint for success. For most, success and survival were synonymous, anything beyond that was seemingly impossible for someone like me.
On May 16, 2024, I walked across the North-West University stage to receive my first qualification, a BA in Communications degree. Looking into the hall from the stage, I could see her standing and waving at me and overcome with emotion. I will never forget how making her proud made me feel – it was an accomplishment weightier than the scroll in my hand.
Her tears during the ceremony and mine on the drive to university, reminded me of all the struggles we both went through for me to get where I am today.
I am proud to say that I am the first-generation graduate in my family, I am currently studying towards an honours degree and all of that is because of the strong and steadfast woman behind me.
FEATURED IMAGE: From corner stalls to university halls, my mom’s unwavering support has been the driving force behind my academic journey. Photo: Salim Nkosi
My journey to setting boundaries began with a simple realisation: I was suffocating under the weight of others’ expectations. Now I know it’s the most radical act of self-love one will ever commit.
As I navigate the complexities of life, I have come to realize that setting boundaries is not just a necessity, but a superpower. Being intentional about my time, energy, and relationships has improved my well-being.
Setting boundaries is not selfish, but essential for our survival. A study published in the Journal of Social and Clinical Psychology found that people who set boundaries, and prioritise self-care have higher self-esteem and better mental health. By taking care of ourselves, we can show up more fully and be more present in our relationships and lives.
Spiritual boundaries include being mindful of the company I keep and the beliefs with which I engage with, which are Christian beliefs. As Emmanuel James Rohn once said, “You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.”
Engaging with like-minded communities has also provided a supportive environment where I can share my thoughts, learn from others, and deepen my understanding of my faith. This has ultimately strengthened my relationship with God and myself, enabling me to navigate life’s challenges with greater clarity and purpose.
Academically, setting boundaries means dedicating time to my studies and prioritizing my education. As Mpoomy Ledwaba an international speaker and founder of Wisdom & Wellness once said, “Discipline is the bridge between goals and accomplishment.” For me, this means setting aside dedicated time for studying and avoiding distractions.
I allocate specific hours each day for studying, ensuring I minimise social media and phone usage during that time, I also create a conducive study environment by using a quiet and organised study space.
My friends joke that my brand and personality have become “Miss Journalist”, because I have become so locked in and it occupies my mind most of the time. Whilst it is true that I am currently struggling to find the balance between a social life and my studies, I can maintain a sense of accomplishment and take pride in my academic journey.
Much like a gardener tends to their garden, nurturing the soil and pruning the weeds to allow the flowers to bloom, one can tend to a person or situation with similar care and attention, to ensure growth.
Financial boundaries include being disciplined and avoiding activities that would stretch one too thin. It is essential to create a budget and stick to it, while avoiding impulsive purchases.
But let’s be real, I struggle with this one the most. Who can resist the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the glazed baked treats on display in a coffee shop? Certainly not me, every day I have to fight against my senses when I walk into the Es’kia Mpahlele building, which has a Vida e Cafe at its entrance. Their Strawberry Supresa smoothie, banana loaf, and spicy chicken mayo are to die for.
But in all seriousness, it’s a work in progress and I am trying to be more mindful of my spending habits. Maybe I will be able to resist the temptation of that coffee shop…but no promises!
Lastly, the most important boundaries are the ones I set in my relationships. As Jerry Flowers, a motivational speaker and priest for the Time of Celebration Ministries Church says “Boundaries are not meant to keep people out, but to keep yourself in.”
It is all easier said than done, and life is a continuous process of self-reflection, growth, and improvement. You cannot pour from an empty cup, so you need to take care of yourself first, boundaries are the tool that makes that possible.
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?
“There are few defining moments in life. And it is without a doubt, that graduation is one of them,” said Dr Eunice Cross, Acting President of the Convocation Executive
These words echoed around the room as the newly awarded graduates sat restlessly in their seats awaiting the chance to leave the Great Hall, at Wits University, to celebrate with their loved ones. While they may cross the stage alone to be conferred, graduates say the help of family, friends and their academic mentors was their propellent during their studies.
Widaad Mahamed with her family prior to her graduation ceremony on April 2, 2024. Photo: Thato Gololo
Wits Vuvuzela’s own, Ruby Delahunt (left) and Victoria Hill (right) after their graduation ceremony on April 2, 2024. Photo: Thato Gololo
There is no time more exciting on a university campus than graduation season. This year, from March 26 to April 05, 2024, throngs of supportive families flooded onto campus with multicolored flowers whose beauty came second only to the graduates themselves. The energy was exciting and infectious, and it is easily my favourite time of the year because beyond the struggle, all you can see is the hope.
Though the journey to reach graduation is always fraught with difficulties, Maureen Masedi advised that “You just think of the bigger picture and the end goal”. Sometimes the bigger picture is lost in the inevitable struggles in the pursuit of a qualification.
From academic and financial exclusion to something as simple as missing a bus, the help we need can come in so many different forms. It didn’t take me long to realise how difficult my undergraduate years would be. I had left my entire support structure across the country, and it left my family feeling powerless to help me on my worst days.
Ambesikhaya Ngobo and his wife Zusiphe Ngobo celebrating his graduation. Photo: Thato Gololo
After my father passed away in my second year, my mother arranged for his gown to be delivered to me so that I could wear it when I finally finished my degree. It took a year longer than it should have, but having a little piece of him with me made me know that if he could do it in the 1980s, I could do it now.
Though he had previously graduated twice at other institutions, Ambesikhaya Ngobo, from the Wits School of Business shared that “Being an alumni here is a long lived dream.” The excitement he shared with his girlfriend who saw him through his postgraduate diploma expressed untold stories of late nights and unwavering support through them.
Nazleen Plaaitjies stressed that each person she brought to graduation, had been individually called during exam season to pray for her. I still classify my undergraduate graduation as perfect. For the same reason as Nazleen, my family and best friends being present was more than icing, it was the cake itself.
All I know is that if I keep promising to write the name of every person who brought me to graduation on the back of my degree, I will run out of space. My community supported my dreams and for that I will forever be grateful.
FEATURED IMAGE: Ali Masedi, who graduated with a Postgraduate Diploma in Business Administration, taking a photo with his wife, Maureen Masedi, and Kudos Kudus
Time spent with a higher power is a perfect moment for self-introspection.
The Easter period and Ascension Day have come and gone without me showing my face in church. This has left me feeling guilty as if I have compromised and abandoned my spirituality.
The Very-Well-Mind website describes spirituality as a belief in something beyond the self which can be expressed religiously, traditionally, through meditation or in whichever form anybody desires.
Spirituality has been a very important aspect of my life that I have expressed through praying, reading the Bible and going to church. The time spent with a higher power is a perfect moment for self-introspection and finding out whether you like who you are, or the terms and conditions set by your faith.
I have experienced spirituality as a way of looking within and escaping from the physical world. It has helped me to find purpose and meaning in my life and to cope with stress and depression.
Research from Psychology Today shows that spiritually inclined people are associated with better physical and mental health, lower blood pressure, stronger relationships and improved self-esteem. This resonates with me because every time I have distanced myself from God, I have felt a sense of disorder and uncertainty in my life.
However, the indoctrination of religion by the people closest to us is a large contributing factor to feelings of guilt, shame and insecurity when we “derail” from what is expected of us. A 2015 academic paper says that feelings of guilt motivate more religious participation because of the pressure to conform and to be accepted by society.
This is true in my experience because my grandmother entrenched the idea of praying and going to church every Sunday. Therefore, not going on these essential days feels like a betrayal of her and God.
I questioned my faith after the death of my aunt in August 2021. I was furious because she had always been fiercely spiritual. How could she die? Most importantly, what God would take away a mother of two young boys, a sister, a daughter and aunt from her family?
A few months later, my neighbours invited me to youth sessions at their church, Christian Missionary Fellowship International based in Melville. For a change from other evangelical churches I had attended, I met people who did not claim to have all the answers about God.
Being with my peers also made it a more relatable experience as we were all trying to find our identities within the religion as opposed to trying to blend into something I did not comprehend. For example, we discussed complex yet relevant topics such as premarital sex, how to deal with addictions and how to create a better relationship with God.
This helped me realise that spirituality does not prevent bad things from happening, it just helps one to deal with them with a clear and hopeful mind.
The guilt I have been feeling since not going to church for Easter had nothing to do with societal expectations of me but my expectations of myself and my spiritual journey.
To forgive myself and move on, I have started the journey of nurturing myself through prayer and meditation. I believe that spirituality can die out like a plant when it does not receive enough water and sunlight. That is why I will keep working on myself to be the best version of me.
Since her announcement as the Democratic Alliance’s mayoral candidate for Johannesburg, Helen Zille has dominated national headlines. In this bonus episode of We Should Be Writing podcast, hosts Lulah Mapiye and Bonolo Mokonoto dissect a media meet-and-greet with the mayoral hopeful. From her extensive political résumé to her controversial public utterance, we examine why the Democratic Alliance has chosen Hellen Zille as their candidate for the 2027 local mayoral elections. Additionally, […]
