HALALA 1 MAISHE: CELEBRATING MAISHE MAPONYA 13.4.2021

HALALA1 MAISHE: CELEBRATING MAISHE MAPONYA 13.4.2021 By Robert Mshengu Kavanagh A little while back, referring to the late Stephen Chifunyise, the Zimbabwean cutural icon, I wrote an article in which I bemoaned the fact that our cultural giants are only given their due when they are dead. Now I want to say the same thing in relation to the South African artist, Maishe Maponya. Maishe Maponya is one of South Africa’s foremost cultural icons - a playwright, theatre director, performer and poet. A few of us have launched what we call the Halala Maishe: Celebrating Maishe Maponya campaign. It has been launched in the hope that Maponya will be one African Cultural Giant who is not forgotten and not celebrated. A TRIBUTE TO MAISHE MAPONYA Maponya’s plays have been performed locally and internationally. In 1985 he became the first black recipient of the Standard Bank Young Artist Award. He was a founder and director the performing arts group, Bahumutsi Drama Group. In 1984 his plays, Gangsters and Dirty Work, were first staged. Together with Ingoapele Madingoane [poet], Matsemela Manaka [play-wright] and Makhulu Ledwaba [trade unionist], he founded the indomitable Allah Poets. In 1986 he presented the play, Bušang Meropa, at the Grahamstown Festival to mixed critical acclaim because of its style and content. Another of his published plays is The Hungry Earth. Maponya has a Master of Arts degree from Leeds University, England, and was appointed a Lecturer in Drama at the University of the Witwatersrand in Johannesburg, where in 1995 he published a collection of his dramatic work, Doing Plays for a Change. Another collection of his plays entitled Beyond the Echoes of Soweto: Five Plays was published by Routledge in 1997. From July, 2001 to 2003, Maponya held the office of Director of Arts, Culture and Heritage Services in Johannesburg. He continued his committed cultural activism by participating in a number of initiatives relating to theatre and the arts, including Performing Arts Workers’ Equity [PAWE]. In1995 he was responsible for the conception of the production, Place of rock: how the land was stolen, which was based on the stories of Sol Plaatje’s writing and featured the actor, Seputla Sebogodi. He also revived Gangsters and produced another one-hander about Steve Biko, the foremost ideologue of the Black Consciousness Movement, called, Song for Biko, in which he ‘featured and portrayed the poet evoking the spirit of Biko, ending with the torture and killing of the poet symbolizing Biko’s death’. More recently he finished writing an opera entitled “The ghost of Tzaneen” and staged a brilliant presentation of a selection of his poems accompanied by music and performance at 1 A Zulu equivalent of the English ‘All Hail’. the Soweto Theatre which generated growing enthusiasm and interest. He has published two collections of his poems: This Land is My Witness: Poems on the State of the Nation [Themba Books, 2016] and Truth Be Told: Da’s Kak in the Land [Themba Books, 2018]. I have already written a couple of articles on his work – one on his recently published poetry, in which I asked whether he is South Africa’s Pablo Neruda or Federico Garcia Lorca [‘A Critical Introduction to the Poetry of Maishe Maponya’], another on the establishment of an archive of his work at the Unisa [‘About Time! The Unisa Archive and Exhibition of the Work of Maishe Maponya’]. His advocacy of Africanism and Black Consciousness has never wavered. In an interview, published in Theatre and Change in South Africa [1996, Amsterdam], Maponya is quoted as having said: …unless the disadvantaged black people, specifically black and Africans, realize their problems in this given situation in this country and begin to address those as Africans, or as black people, and deal with the issues of identity, of definition of the self, rediscover themselves and deal with issues of critical consciousness and all those concepts, unless we get to that level, unless the young people get to that level, our future will always remain bleak in terms of how theatre and the arts and performance are going to develop – it will always be bleak, so it is a challenge for us. It does not help to basically make compromises even on issues which are a matter of life and death. Africa is blessed with artists, many of them cultural giants. Let us pay tribute to their achievements while we still have them so that they can be warmed by our admiration and encouraged by our tributes. A Face Book page has been opened. https://www.facebook.com/Celebrating-Maishe-Maponya-100801425461762 Please circulate this appeal to our friends and fellow artists to honour and appreciate a distinguished lifetime in the arts by sending their contributions to the Halala, Maishe page. : A POEM FOR MAISHE MAPONYA KHAHLAMBA’S RAINBOW [for my small brother, Maishe] by Robert Mshengu Kavanagh Darkening clouds hammer the crags and krantzes Of Khahlamba1, like jackboots crushing head and hands In torture cells. The deluge spreads a prison blanket On ververlate vlaktes2. No more the ossewa3 But plase, plumply sprawled. Vry Staat!4 Your soil Sucks and spews like gatha.-pummeled5 stomachs, Squelching as the hail comes lashing down And no man moves. Another flash and thunder Splits the rocks – and switches on electric 1.The Drakensberg mountains. 2. Far-flung plains [cf.national anthem] 3. Plase – farms; ossewa - Ox wagon. 4. Slogan ‘[Orange] Free State. 5. Sotho for ‘tread’ derogatory name for police Nodes that grip him who screams the screams Of never-ending sjamboks, whips and guns – The dreaded Boer geweer. Across the citadels The trekkers clambered down, Thukela6 swells And seethes its load of mud and broken branches Like the farts of desperate comrades beaten to a pulp Down to the brown-fringed beaches – down To the Indian sea. Something like a century Passes. The gorging gorged, the lightening lightens The thunder skulks off elsewhere and unnatural Nature turns her withered cheek away And cracks a grisly smile. A duplicitous sunshine, Like salt on wounds, begins to throw a light, Picks out the bones and roasted flesh, the dead In nameless graves, the homes destroyed, the widows Weeping and the orphaned bairns, the martyrs, Exiles, stunted hopes - the tragic scene. She looks on this and smiles, she shows the tooth Izinyo lomthakathi7.. The storm is over. The people leave the leaking corrogated roof Of Shabalala’s store, where we and they Have sheltered, taking refuge from the flood, Jam-packed like kombis at the hour of five Or kwela mahalas with fingers clutching wire. As we all come out, we see an apparition Uthingo lwenkosikazi8, a glamorous rainbow Arching across the sky. For a second there Is silence - and then a voice speaks out, Talking for the people: “Maiwee! Lokhu kush’ ukuthini!”9 ****************************** A miracle, so smart - like madam when she climbs Into the 4 by 4 to go to town With groot baas10. Dressed to kill. The rainbow We all know was sent by God to Noah, a sign That the world can start all over again. God Saw the world He’d made was evil and now A new and better world was set to grow Upon the sodden turf still clutching bones. A good world. A better life. And now is seen Again the rainbow. What does it mean? No more The jackboot, Casspir11, prison walls, gone 6. Thukela - name of river 7.Tooth of the witch – hypocical smile 8. ‘Rainbow’ in Zulu 9. O, my God, what does it mean? 10. Lit. ‘big boss’ – referring to a white man. 11. Armoured car used in riot control in black residential areas. The suffocating blankets, the fists, the electric shocks. Gone hunger, poverty, groot baas, his strident missus. Is this a sign come down to us from Him? Now the storm is over, has a new day dawned? Our people now be free, be equal, living In harmony, all colours of the rainbow, Is that what it’s going to be, they ask each other? They are excited, talking all at once, still sodden From the rain. They admire the bridge of colours And try to figure out where they fit in. Red is there and gold, then yellow, blue, Two more they do not know what they are called. They turn their eyes and ask each other: “So, What about us? Is the rainbow meant for us Or just those pretty dresses on their way to town. This rainbow, can we trust it? Since when have miracles Come to us? And even then, say We want it, who says they want it too? To share the rainbow- with us they do not like To touch - except when jumping on our ladies. Will there be room for us, the multitudes, On that bridge of many colours? Maybe Those who can change colours will find their place Up there. Those educated chameleons who can’t wait To turn their backs on us. If only God could send Another rainbow! Put black in there as well. If all of us could climb and stand there Would the bridge be able to take our weight, or would it Crumble? And then with so much black in there Would the rainbow still be colourful or rather be All black? For we are many and they are few. What did he say that one they murdered12: “Black man, You are on your own” – the people search for answers. ********************************* My small brother, Maishe, is huge, In fact he is a giant, an icon. It was he who was with me As we watched the Mercedes swishing by On the rain-soaked highway to van Reenen13 To the place they now call KwaZulu/Natal – Was this included in King Shaka’s strategy 13. Steve Biko 13. Van Reenen’s Pass over the Drakensberg from the Free State into KwaZulu/Natal When he met ondlebezikhanyilanga14, And carefully interrogated the white men from Port Natal: Ilembe eladla amanye amalembe! Dlungwane kaNdaba uShaka ngiyesaba ukuti nguShaka…15. Was this part of his plan? But back to icons. Some talk quite glibly of cultural icons Before they place them on the shelf And then press on with other busyness. Culture is a term which covers many things. For instance, there’s the culture of theft And that of trying to fool all the people All the time16.. Impossible it’s said. But no harm trying. Lincoln was not infallible. I see him now as he used to stand, So strong and deadly serious. His hands Resting firmly on the lectern As he tells those who would still hear, The truth, the truth that must be told. “Truth be told: Da’s kak in die land! ”17 And his listeners echo all: ”Daaaa’s kak!” Truths not welcome in the technicolour world Of rainbows. Standing proudly there He wears his trademark skull cap, black With embroidered border. A picture of the past, A challenge posed to those who do Not know or have forgotten the time of storm, The thunder claps of old Khahlamba. That cap, that cap which stamps him one Of those who tore away the brand Of ‘Ja, my Kroon’18 from the mind. Who spoke, acted, sang and wrote: “I’m black and proud. Be black. Be serious. Don’t play around, our freedom is No giggling matter. Our freedom You cannot buy it though it’s easy to betray.” “Da’s kak in die land”. They feed it to us And we eat it from day to day. It is not ours but theirs – we eat 14. Zulu term for whites, lit. ‘those whose ears the sun shines through’ 15. Extract from the praised of Shaka: Hero who destroys other heroes… I fear Shaka because he his Shaka. 16. A saying attributed to President Lincoln. 17. ‘There’s shit in the country.’ Title of a collection of poems by Maponya. 18. “My king” – obsequious address to whitemen in the apartheid days. Their kak. Where is the pride? O, Maishe! Wounds, We Bleed, We March, The Ghetto – His poems. They tell us as it is – No white-washed nonsense – what he and his brothers – Matsemela, Ingoapele, Makhulu, Steve,19 Did tell the people. There once was A black nation. Where is it now? ‘Somewhere over the rainbow’, flying With the bluebirds?20 Not even blackbirds! Sies!. Yes, my small brother is huge, an icon, A giant from the past, a truthteller in a time, In a place, which has no time for truthtellers. Maponya! Ke nna Maishe letebele Phiri ya feta manamane a timela Ke morwa Disego Mankgotšetše mollo wa magale Segodi boela Mawetši Segodi boela bokwa o kwago Mawetši a bo maphehli a mothatha A fehla mothata o a wa!21 ************************************ What were the people saying As he and I stood listening. What were the people saying When the tempest had spent itself? What were the people saying When the suspicious sun smiled On the other side of her face. They had learned that she can do that. Who is it who can forget the sun That would not set in the east.22 O, if it had, things might Have been slightly different – or Just a slight delay? What were the people saying When they saw that perplexing rainbow And tried to work it out, The rainbow that spanned hills And valleys - ververlate vlaktes, Ewige gebergtes,23 O, Morena, 19. Manaka Matsemela – poet and playwrite; Ingoapele Madingoane ; ‘Bard of Soweto’; Makhulu Ledwaba – trade unionist; Steve Biko, co-founder of the Black Consciousness movement. 20. ‘Some where over the rainbow Blue birds fly’ – song from The Wizard of Oz. 21. Maponya clan praises. 22. According to Nongqause’s prophecy, the sun would set in the East, the slaughtered cattle would be restored, the heroes would rise and the whites would be driven into the sea. 23. ‘Far-flung plains/eternal mountains’, from Die Stem, Afrikaans national anthem. Boloka, it spanned sechaba24 too! What to do? What to do? 24. Morena boloka sechaba sa eso - God watch over our land – Sotho national anthem As we stood there, my small brother And me, and heard the people Talking, outside Shabalala’s store, Their words were unforgettable. Though they did not know it, Their questions carried seeds That with the time might grow To be the honest to goodness truth. Some we once called comrades Told us we must be a people Read the bible, it’s all there Like Jacob’s many-coloured dreamcoat,25 Brothers and sisters all Together - even those Who sheltered with us on the porch Yes, they too, the people, Must wear the dreaded dreamcoat. When still battered by the storm We had our fearless truth-tellers. But that was then. It isn’t Now. Now they say, comrade, We have moved on. We don’t Want to be disturbed. The ‘do not disturb’ sign hangs On the doors of hotel rooms. They snuggle in the warmth Of an abandoned revolution. My brother, you will go And I will go. Our time is up. But what will those who come After – us - do When the truth-tellers are all gone? It was then I opened up, Gave voice to all my thoughts. I spoke to him and said: “Your children will not forget you. 25. Genesis 37:3 reads, "Now Israel loved Joseph more than all his children, because he was the son of his old age: and he made him a coat of many colours. Your words, your ideals, your truths Live on. They speak, they sing, They dance, they have been printed. Your children will hear – if not, Then what does it mean to be An icon? They will rise and say “No”, to those who fear you, Those who say: “That was then, Now’s a new ball game” – Our embarrassing generation Of punctured comrades – The children will say: “No more!” As you did before In seventy-six26. “No more! What was then is now. What then was truth is still Truth.” The children will learn From you, they will learn There once were heroes. There once were those like you. 26. Referring to the role played by the youth and children in the uprising of June, 1976. I am only saying in other words What the people, still wet From the long vanished storm, Were saying. They talked in Zulu, In seSotho saMoshweshwe – After all Khahlamba is not far From Thaba Bosiu. And others Will say it all in Pedi, Tsonga, Tswana, isiXhosa “Wena Maishe, Maponya’s son: We shall never forget you. Truthteller then and truthteller Now. Maatla! – all power To our people, all power!” [Recording of author reading the poem is available https://soundcloud.com/user150582020/khahlambas-rainbow] MAISHE MAPONYA BIBLIOGRAPHY Gqibitole, Khaya, and Shamsuddeen, Bello, , ‘Grassroots struggle: The representation of the black voice in Maishe Maponya’s The Hungry Earth, [1980]’, pdf [University of Zululand/ Umaru Musa Yar'adua, 2020] Maponya, Maishe, Plays for a Change, with an Introduction by Prof. Ian Steadman [Wits University, 1995] Maponya, Maishe, Beyond the Echoes of Soweto: Five Plays [Routledge, 1997] Maponya, Maishe, This Land is My Witness: Poems on the State of the Nation, [Themba Books, 2016] Maponya, Maishe, Truth Be Told: Da’s Kak in the Land, ed. with an Introduction by Kavanagh, Robert [Themba Books, 2018] Moorosi, Mabitle, The notion of commitment in selected works of Maishe Maponya’ [M.A. thesis, Rhodes University, 1998] Robert Mshengu Kavanagh, ‘A Critical Introduction to the Poetry of Maishe Maponya’ [Academia, 2018] Robert Mshengu Kavanagh, ‘About Time! The Unisa Archive and Exhibition of the Work of Maishe Maponya’ [Academia, no date] Shamsuddeen, Bello, ‘The postdramatic theatre of Athol Fugard and Maishe Maponya: commitment, collaboration, and experiment in apartheid South Africa’ [doctoral thesis, University of Zululand, 2017] The Hungry Earth