… in condolences with Thapelo’s family

produced for Inkanyiso

camera + direction by Zanele Muholi & Justin Davy (2012)

VIDEO: Thapelo’s Memorial Service
2012 July 15, Kuruman. Northern Cape

by Sade Langa

Sisonke – togetherness

This word carries so much weight, at least for me.  The word, to me took a new meaning for me eight years ago.  It meant, “you don’t need to share DNA with a person for them to be your family”.  I understood that whenever I needed it, there would always be someone to catch me when I stumble or fall.

I asked some of my friends what the word sisonke meant to them, and this was their feedback:

My friend Thabile said: Siyancedana (we help each other), by praying for one another, listening to each other and being there for each other however we can.

The majority of them used phrases and words like; unity, togetherness, we are in it together, we are one, love, peace, one goal, same boat, and solidarity.

To me sisonke means counting on a stranger. This stranger, who has become a part of my life and family, so much so that in everything I do I know I have to consider them because I know they consider me to. I come from a very small family, brought up by my grandmother who taught me the sense of Ubuntu (a philosophy of human generosity), I will forever be grateful to her for teaching me such a great value.  It is with this value that I have managed to have this modern family I have found in strangers. Growing up, my sister and I were taken care of by Gogo and Khulu (grandmother and great grandmother).  Although it was not easy, my Gogo was a driven woman.  She made and sold clothes and did not let her circumstances shape her future. She managed to build us a grand home, ensured we went to school and even managed to buy herself a car.

I did not have much of a relationship with my mother.  She was like a visitor to me.  She would come December for the Christmas holidays and would bring clothing.  When Khulu passed away my Gogo decided it was time for my sister and I to go and live with our mother so that she could take responsibility of us her children as she felt she was ’too relaxed’.

Moving to Johannesburg was difficult.  Suddenly I did not have a bedroom of my own. We all stayed in one bedroom and shared a house with strangers. Living with Mama was not as cool as I had thought it would be.  Sure there was no one to nag about homework anymore, but I soon realized I had to assume a motherly role as well at 14. Gogo asked me to look after my little sister. I then realized why, Mama was there but not really there.

As years went by I had become my little sister’s guardian and spent most of my time behind the house we shared with strangers, listening to music and dreaming of a day I would break free from that life. I was too consumed with taking care of myself and assuming a guardian role for my sister that I never had a chance to deal with how I felt and what was going on with me when I reached puberty.

When I started working, I found a place of my own but soon realized it wasn’t going to be as I had envisioned because I actually had family responsibilities that I had not thought about, first born (my little sister) and my son! I soon had to get a flat mate whom I was asking to pay half of the rent yet I stayed with two people. It seemed unfair to them. Shortly after that my Gogo passed away.  My best friend gone, the person I could call and cry like a baby to on the phone was gone. The one person whom I could tell everything and anything was gone and soon realized I was in trouble.

Because of my background, I always knew I wanted the best for my son, even if it meant me giving up the luxuries of this world. Most people never understood why one would pay so much for education.  It was because I did not have the opportunity for such an education. I strongly believe if I afford him all the opportunities I can, he does not have to follow in my footsteps and will live a more comfortable life than I had.  I wanted to pave a great future for his generation to come.  I had to live small.

When I met Zanele Muholi, I was happy because it was a perfect arrangement.  Muholi was always travelling, even when s/he moved in, s/he wasn’t really there, s/he was overseas and moved her belongings to my flat. This allowed me some ‘freedom’. Little did I know that this person would become a part of me forever.  S/he became a person who was there for me and my family, no matter what.

Therefore sisonke to me means Thabile Buthelezi and Zanele Muholi.  They have become my family and through them I have now extended family that regards me as family and will do anything for me, I will also do the same.

Sisonke to me means having complete strangers become a part of your family and a huge part of your life.  It means caring, loving and taking care of them.

With all this said, in order for one to have family or love, you have to have an open heart.  Some call me gullible because I always give my heart, but I do not mind as I believe in human beings. I am grateful to my Gogo because I am a proud lesbian woman who has values. She instilled in me some strong values.  She instilled in me Ubuntu!

_____________________________________
About the author: Sade is a poetic activist. She is a lesbian mother, caring partner and loving sister and friend to many other black lesbians.

In loving memory of Anene Booysen (17) who was brutally murdered in Bredasdorp.

an activist dressed up the statue of Gandhi at the Joburg CBD whilst the other one looked on

As I drove passed Ghandi Square at the Joburg CBD I saw a small group of activists who braved the heavy rain wearing purple t-shirts and other clothing. One could see that most people had their struggle tees but took them off cos they were soaking wet. I slowed down the car on the roadside to get a clear view and listen. Although I could not get out of the car because the rain poured.

gandhi dressed in purple

The poster with the photo of Anene hung on the streetlight post, below that were white candles. I immediately recognized the article that featured in the Star newspaper of the 8th February 2013. According to the article she was gang raped, brutally mutilated on Friday night and later died in hospital on Saturday, 1st February 2013. She was only 17 years old. The same age of my daughter who just celebrated her birthday three days ago.

That brought sadness into my life as I can’t imagine life without her let alone leave her out my sight.
We, as parents try to keep our children safe but when such brutality still continues to happen right in front of our eyes by people we know is heartbreaking.
Luckily Anene was able to identify her attackers before her death.

May her Soul rest in peace.

by Charmain Carrol

To pay my last respect to my partner should s/he passes on?

archived photo from Noxolo Nogwaza’s funeral which took place in 2011

Would I be allowed to honour her life the way that any women would
to her husband.
Yes we are not married,
love is not about one’s status at home affairs,
but the love that we share.
All I know is that I love the human being
and I have welcomed ubaba in my life with that s/he comes with
and that s/he has done the same f me.

I would like to honour ubaba’s life like the man that s/he has been in my life,
with respect and dignity that s/he deserves,
yes I want to be in mo(u)rning.

I want to sit on the mattress and mourn my man.

I want to wash umzimba wendoda yami’s (body) for the last time.
Ngimgeze!
Allow my umnakwethu the right to express her bereavement and shed her fears

Yes,
I want to be the one to dress our lesbian husband up as s/he lays in that coffin.

I want to dress in full black for as long as it takes
ngizile

I am here in the Mo(u)rning.

I have lost a part of me

My partner,
my better half,
my lover,
my companion,
my friend,
my husband…

*** This text is personal. It is a way in which I express my fears in case I lose the love of my life; my lesbian love/r.
Also dedicated to all the femme lesbians out there who once lost their lesbian partners but never gained recognition from  the families of the deceased.
The selfish families/ relatives who claim property of the couple should one passes on due to disease or natural deaths or brutally killed.
Where the death certificate or funeral notices do not even count the next of kin.

___________________________

About the author: Charmain Carrol is a lesbian/gender activist, writer, a mother, high femme, sister and mentor to many. She’s been involve in activism for more 15 yrs.

On the 4^th July 2013 the black lesbian youth of Ekurhuleni  took charge of their community as they organized an illegal march on the street of Thokoza, to protest against the ongoing trend of lesbian killings in their community. The group of about 50 black lesbians began their protest in the area where the dead body of 20 year old Nokuthula Radebe’s was found in April 2011.

“This is the place where the first lesbian was killed here in Thokoza, we are gathered here to express our animosity towards this place”, said Sister A, who is member of Ihawu, a Lesbian organisation working in Kathorus (Katlehong, Thokoza and Vosloorus) when she addressed the hyped up group.

“We are marching in honour of our fallen lesbian sisters, for the spirit of Duduzile Zozo and Nokuthula Radebe.”

Earlier in the year, Ihawu together with Forum for the Empowerment of Women (FEW) commemorated the death of Nokuthula, and in her honour they requested the municipality to demolish the abandoned building as it is a sore point for Radebe’s family and the LGBTI community living in that area. However, their request fell on deaf ears as the building is still standing.

The march proceeded to where Duduzile Zozo’s dead body was found, a stone throw away from her home.

The group assembled outside the house where she was found and lit candles in honor of her spirit. The community came out in support of the march and memorial service. Members of the Thokoza Community Policing forum (CPF), Thokoza youth group and SANCO members.

“One death is too many”, said Kgathatso Kgosithata, member of Thokoza CPF. “As CPF we are working together with the police to make sure that the culprits are found and make sure that this doesn’t happen in our community anymore.”

Homophobic Ekurhuleni

“Corrective rapes“, beatings and murders are disturbingly common in conservative communities where homophobia remains deeply entrenched. Ekurhuleni has become a battleground for black lesbians.

Since the murder of Eudy Simelane in 2008, many cases of assault, rape and murder have been reported in Ekurhuleni alone.

To date five lesbians have been brutally murdered and several others assaulted and raped.

Jabu Sibisi a young lesbian from Thokoza said, “I fear for my life, I feel like I am the next victim, I can never be free again after this.”

“I am traumatized and angry, this is my second friend to be murdered, whatever that is happening in my community pains me, but it won’t stop me from being who I am. I am a proud lesbian and no one can change me”, said Fikile Mazibuko another lesbian from Thokoza.

The concerns echoed by the two young lesbians are the sentiments of many other lesbians from Ekurhuleni who came out in numbers to affirm the existence.

Tumi Mkhuma, a lesbian friend of the deceased and a  corrective rape survivor, expressed her outraged about her friend’s death. “I feel sad for my friend, the fact that she didn’t survive this pains me. As a rape survivor myself, I know what she went through and it is not a good place to be.”

In 2009, Mkhuma was dragged from a bar, beaten unconscious, and then raped in Katlehong. Luckily she survived but many did not.

Most of the cases have striking similarities in term of the manner they are carried out. All of the victims are reported as being last seen in a tavern leaving with male friends. It is also speculated that these murders are orchestrated by people who know the victims very well.

Mkhuma said she knows her rapist and where they live, and with Zozo’s case it is alleged that his male friends that she was last seen with having something to do with her murder.

However, one concerned mother and a representative form SANCO who lives nearby Zozo’s home blames the horrendous killing on alcohol and drugs.

Mam’ Puleng, chairperson of SANCO said, “these murders are stirred by drugs, Nyaope is the cause of this, our children have turned into monsters, their brains are dead because of nyaope.”

“These drugs are very dangerous and shouldn’t be taken lightly”, she said.

Lesbian murders in June

June is celebrated as the youth month in South Africa, a month where the brave youth of 1976 are remembered and celebrated. However, for the LGBTI community, June has become a month that members of this colorful, flamboyant communities are murdered for being open about their sexuality.

In 2012 June, three black lesbians, and a gay man under the age of 30 were brutally murdered in different places in South Africa.
Phumeza Nkolonzi, (22) was shot three times in front of her mother and niece in Nyanga on the 24 June 2012. It was reported that, “The gunman broke down the door and started firing at Nkolonzi without saying a word, leaving her family traumatised and confused.”

Hendrietta Thapelo Morifi, (29) lived as an out lesbian in the village of Phola Park, Mokopane. She was killed on 29 June 2012 in her home with a braai fork inserted into her throat.

Sanna Supa, (28) was shot and killed while opening the gate to her house in Braam Fischer, Soweto on the 30 June 2012.

Thapelo Makutle, (24) on the 9 June 2012 was killed and mutilated in Seoding near Kuruman. His throat had been slit to the point of a virtual beheading, and part of his testicles and penis had allegedly been cut off and stuffed into his mouth.

The murders mentioned are just a fraction of the daunting statistics of LGBTI murders that happen almost every day across South Africa, a country known for embracing the gay rights.

Government breaking the silence

The government has come out in support of Zozo’s case, with Premier Nomvula Mokonyane condemning the murder and also calling on the South African citizens to be more tolerant.

Also, it seems like the case of Zozo has compelled the National Task Team into acting. The team had received a lot of criticism for their silence and lack of progress since its inception in May 2011.

“On Wednesday, senior officials from the Department of Justice and Constitutional Development (DoJ & CD) were sent to Thokoza to meet with local police to establish the progress made in the investigation”, reported Mambaonline.

“The officials were accompanied by members of civil society groups, including FEW, who form part of the task team mandated to develop an urgent intervention to combat crimes against LGBTI people.”

A task team was also established at the Thokoza police station, comprising of police officer, community policing forum members as well as members from the community to try and speed up the case as well as to review the case of Radebe which remains unsolved.

The murder of Zozo happened just a week after the President of United States (US), Barack Obama visited some countries in the African continent, especially South Africa.

Obama had received a lot of pressures from human rights organisations, urging him to address the state of homosexuality which is criminalised in 38 countries in Africa.

Obama was met with some negative responses when he tried addressing the issue in his visit to Senegal, one of the African countries that criminalises homosexuality.

Nonetheless, as the LGBTI community in South Africa, we wonder what difference would it had made if Obama and Jacob Zuma discussed the hate crime situation towards homosexuals in South Africa when they met.

Would it have made a difference in the lives of gay people?
Or maybe shifted the mind sets of traditionalist and homophobes who believe that being gay is wrong, un-African and it should and can be fixed.

Previous by Lesego

2013 July 3: Another brutal murder of a lesbian

Related article

2013 July 3: Another fucked up case

text by Lerato Dumse
photos by Thekwane Bongi Mphisholo

“I’m disappointed with men, instead of protecting women, we are the ones abusing them with our hands and taking advantage of them. Don’t forget us Dudu, because we loved you and never judged you.”

Mphikeleli Miya, a friend of Dudu

Those were emotional sentiments shared by Mphikeleli Miya, during the funeral service of his friend Duduzile Zozo who was murdered in Thokoza, East of Johannesburg.

Zozo’s life was snatched from her two weeks ago on 30th of June in a suspected hate crime. Due to the family’s destitute situation they were forced to rely on donations to arrange the burial and delayed the funeral.

Parents, Thuziwe Zozo and Mandla Hadebe sat with their heads bowed for most of the funeral, as if not to see what was happening around them.

If you were at Zozo’s funeral service at Church Hall, Khumalo Street, Thokoza on 13th of July 2013, you probably got a free t-shirt with Dudu’s face printed on the front. The colours varied from yellow to white, some with colour picture, while others were black and white.

Some mourners wearing donated t-shirts

What the t-shirts have in common is that they were donated and distributed by local political parties. The South African ruling party African National Congress (ANC) and the official opposition Democratic Alliance (DA) were at arm length each party support was dodgy no one knows how genuine that was. Instead of the budget t-shirts the parties concerned should have saved the money and provide a warm home to the Zozo’s who are currently renting a shabby shack in someone’s yard, which happened to be diagonal opposite (about 50m) from where Dudu’s dead body was found exactly two weeks ago.

ANC women surrounding the coffin inside Church Hall

Hundreds of community members, family, friends colleagues and lgbti community came to bid farewell to the 26 year old. I want to include that it was really not “fair” because the family was not granted enough time to express their grievances. The reason might be for the fact that they were desperate to bury Dudu.

Tensions ran high while speakers of the ANC addressed mourners, particularly the lgbti community who came in droves. They accused the ANC of being opportunistic and only showing concern in light of the nearing national elections next year.

Chairperson of the ANC Women’s League in Ekurhuleni Lindi Khonjelwayo, assured the lgbti people that the ANC is not ashamed of them. She said that the women’s league viewed victimization on lesbians as victimization on them.

She lashed at the DA for their sudden concern for lgbti people. “We must not allow to be utilized by opportunism, DA formerly National Party did not see it necessary to legalize your constitutional rights as the lgbti when they ruled. They must not come here and politically grandstand, taking pictures as if they care because they never cared.”

When the ANC regional secretary in Ekurhuleni, Tshilidzi Munyai followed on stage. He urged those involved to work together and fight crime.
“We must not take the law into our own hands, but allow the justice system to do their job”.
This only aggravated the crowd even more and just when things seemed to be getting out of control. Zanele Muholi with camera still in hand reminded lesbians that they are the ones getting raped in the townships. Black lesbians in the hall don’t allow people to set your agenda. Muholi continue, “Let us do away with power struggles and remember that we are here to pay respect to the Dudu. If people are too concerned they should help the family to make ends ‘meet’ as we all aware of the financial constraints that they are facing. What’s the use of coming together and singing these struggle songs when we are not willing to bring about change in our own communities,” said in an exasperated voice.

The ongoing tensions between the lgbti groups and the contingent of male friends was also evident at the cemetery. The two groups were facing each other separated by the grave made a point of singing different songs.

Men lowering the coffin.
Only this photo: Collen Mfazwe

The cemetery where Dudu was buried

While people stood around the grave and next to the media cameras, blocking any chance of Dudu’s family seeing her coffin go down for the last time. The pastor ordered for her coffin to be lowered inside the grave. As it started to slowly but surely go down, cameras zoomed and flashed capturing the last moments of Dudu above the soil.

Mourners then made their way back to Zozo’s home. Looking much calmer, people were surrounded by alcohol in a tradition known as after tears. It is a pity that all that jubilation took place at a neighbours yard across the road from the crime scene. One would assume that the ‘after’ mourners were not aware of the brutal space. So far Dudu’s mother and the family have not received any counseling to deal with the trauma or the loss of their beloved.

Previous articles by Lerato

2013 July 4: Statistically speaking

Related articles



2013 July 13: Picturing Duduzile Zozo’s funeral

and

2013 July 10: Chaotic memorial service for Duduzile


and

2013 July 10: Photos from Duduzile Zozo’s memorial service


and

2013 July 10: When brutally killed, Dudu was stripped every ounce of her dignity


and


2013 July 3: Another brutal murder of a lesbian


and



2013 July 3: Another fucked up case

Sfiso ‘Candice’ Nkosi, the chief mourner alongside family members at Vlakfontein cemetery…

Lesiba Mothibe reports,
Lindeka Qampi took photos

At 9pm I was already at home, tired from attending both the funeral and the after tears of Muntu Aubrey Masombuka.
As I took off my high laced heels divaliciously.
I realised  I had spent the whole day  in KwaThema.
This is the place I met Muntuza in 2002 (almost 12 years ago).
Ironically the after tears was hosted two streets away just before Mngadi street where a mutual friend of ours hooked me up with him.

The day started early in the morning and I arrived at 9am, just an hour after the service at the Assembly’s of God church commenced.
I looked classy with a floral skinny trouser that fitted well on my sexy booty and matched it with a lime blazer.
I knew that people will dress to kill …”excuse the pun.”
The Who’s Who of the LGBTIQA communities from different parts of Gauteng were there in big masses to bid farewell to Muntu.

A rarity, lesbian twins Siyanda & Luyanda Gumede came out stylishly to mourn a friend and fellow activist

They looked dazzling, I must say as I spotted a few butch lesbians in nice tailored suits  and  the drag queens wearing their sexy sassy dresses showing gorgeous legs.

As I walked towards Maphanga Street songs of the queer struggle welcomed my ears.  Comrades were chanting and singing their lungs out as a way of expressing their loss.
As I approached the entrance gay flags were raised high in the sky, winged from left to right.
Activists marched in and outside the church, while the service continued as if nothing was wrong.
I asked a friend who was there before me.
What was happening?
Why were the activists toyi  toying?

The friend replied and said ” the preacher is homophobic and they refused to give us a chance to  sing during the service…”

Sweeto Mahlatse, a dedicated activist from Vosloorus was at the forefront of this funeral like she did at the late Duduzile Zozo’s in July 2013

The March continued until they were ready to take Muntu to his final resting place.
A guard of honour was done for the  fallen activist who fought for the lgbtiqa human rights in Kwa Thema and beyond.

By the time I arrived at the cemetery with a friend, they were almost done with the burial. We waited 10 more minutes before they were done. We left for his home where they served us food.
I was starving like a dog.

Lot of people, limited plates … but the caterers managed to feed everyone

Throngs of friends, relatives and activists who attended the burial of Muntu Masombuka standing next to his grave site in Vlakfontein cemetery.

They were a lot of people who attended Muntu’s burial.
I met a few friends, ex friends, ex boyfriends and frienemys.
Muntu’s funeral brought people together.
It (re)connected relationships and helped others make new friends.
It reminded me of how colourful and stylish the South African black queer community is.

After we ate a message was passed around by one of the EPOC members that the after tears will be held at Thomas place.
The venue was in the same street but a few blocks down.
When I arrived there it was not inviting at all because I found people bored and with nothing to do.
Someone suggested we move to Mpumi’s place at Mdakana Street in Phomolo section.
When we arrived there most people were just sitting, cool R&B music was playing as others entered in bits and pieces. The party was about to begin, yuppie!!

We bought the first rounds of drinks, chilled and mingled, within an hour it was packed by funeral attendees and some who couldn’t make it earlier due to various commitments.
The place started to be more lively, the after tears began as the music changed from RnB to afro beats such as kwaito, house, old school dances songs etc.
The Rainbow community celebrated Muntuza Masombuka‘s life as jolly as he was.
His existence was the life of a party. The energy he expressed at many Gay Pride he attended.
He was a fun person who will be missed at the upcoming Gay parades, LGBTI meetings, community dialogues, parties etc.
His graceful presence was felt in every event he attended. In the 10 hours I was there and strongly believed his life was reflected.
If you didn’t know him, you would have had an idea what kind of a person Muntu was.

Portrait of the late Muntu Aubrey Masombuka
1981 – 2013
Undated photo from family album.

Rest In Peace Muntuza!
We will always remember you.

About the author

Lesiba Mothibe is a former beauty queen, activist, events organizer and Chairperson of Uthingo (LGBT organisation) in Daveyton.

Related articles

2014 Jan. 5: High Fashion at Muntuza’s funeral in KwaThema

and

 2013 Dec. 25: Christmas that was

by Jeremiah Sepotokele, Lesiba Mothibe & Yaya Mavundla

It is Thursday, 9th January 2013, when Inkanyiso crew attended Brenda Nonceba Mvula’s memorial service at Acts Christian Church in Midrand, Johannesburg.

Although the Memorial Service was scheduled for 11h00 but started later than that. When we got there at 11h20 we found people standing outside in circles next to their neatly parked luxury cars.

It didn’t seem like they were worried when the service will be starting as some were puffing their smokes.
For a moment I wondered if I wasn’t confusing cigarettes with cigars as everything screamed opulence.

In a blink of an eye everyone waltzed into the venue. It amazed how some of us didn’t notice that we were the only ones left outside. I guess we were still stunned by the best behaviour, especially after attending Muntu’s funeral the previous weekend.

The service was opened by Pastor Musso, who shared a message of being in the right standing with God.
“Brenda knew Jesus, she inspired many through the word of God, and therefore we shouldn’t worry because she is going to heaven” he preached.

Program Director Lethabo Hazel Matlala introduced the speakers. One would have expected a family member to be the first to come up and pay their final tribute to Brenda but it wasn’t the case.
The program was filled with friends who took the honour of sharing their encounters with Brenda.
It came as a surprise to note that no one shared Brenda’s childhood experience, especially for friends who claimed that Brenda as a role model.

A friend who was touched by indirect work Brenda did for the LGBTI community was Steve Letsike, who described her as an inspiration.
“She was passionate, she believed in our queer community. She believed that every LGBTI person must be employed or have their own business. She also wanted us to open a gym together amongst other things she was doing on the side, she was passionate.”

Pule Rampa was one specific friend who shared a lot in common with Brenda, and one of the things they shared was the love of God. Pule also spoke so fondly of her late friend when paying tribute.
“I don’t have a friend, I never had a friend, and she was my first friend. We were brought together by the Lord.”

A tribute melodic performance by Trevor Simpson kept Brenda’s spirit alive.

Amongst the friends who came to the service were also buddies who traveled all the way from Durban and shared a lot of amazing experiences.
Philile Shoba, a Durbanite remembered the day in October when they attended the 2013 LGBTI Recognition Awards ceremony where Brenda and her gorgeous soul mate Koketso Matlaweng won BEST Couple.
That’s one of the greatest moments she remembers amongst many they shared.

Other cyber friends who spoke fondly of Brenda were Abigail Bibi King; Nomagcina Shezi; Jessica (FEW); Nolwazi (Neighbour in Midrand) and Thandi Kwinana.

It was said that Brenda was a go getter, women of class who loved showing off her lavish lifestyle on Facebook. Surprisingly, this is where most of her friends who describe “Brenda the hustler” met her.

Majority that was at the memorial service never met her in person but on facebook. We as the crew also never met the deceased but came to support with documentation since that is what we do most.

Towards the end Mpho Nefuri read a very moving poem by Koketso  Matlaweng paying tribute to her late partner in a very dignified manner.

In closing, Pule Rampa read the late Brenda’s obituary followed by the moving prayer to end the service.  Then Matilda Maroga gave a vote of thanks to all those who attended.

“Sithi lala ngoxolo, ulufezile ugqatso!!!”

Related article
2014 Jan.9: Brenda Mvula’s Memorial Service

and

Previous articles by the authors

2014 Jan. 5: After tears for Muntu Masombuka’s

and

2013 Dec. 30: Beauties and the Beach…

and

2013 March 30: A response to Definitely Not Gaysbian article

and

2014 Jan. 5: High Fashion at Muntuza’s funeral in KwaThema

A poem for Brenda Mvula written by her partner Koketso Matlaweng
read at the memorial service on the 9th Jan.2014.

If I only had five minutes the day you passed away,
I would have had time to tell you

all the things I needed to say.
I never got to tell you how much you mean  to me,

Or that you were the best Lala, I’ve ever had.

The last time that I talked to you
I wish I would have known.
I would have said I love you to many times.

If I only had five minutes,
the morning you passed away,
I would have given you one last hug so tight and see your great big smile.
I’d tell you that I don’t think I could live without you,
not even for awhile.
I’d kiss your cheek and take your hand and tell you it’s okay to go
And tell you that I’ll miss you,
more than you’ll ever know.

But you were gone so quickly.
Before you and i even knew it,
you were standing at heavens gate.
Now God has called upon you,
It’s time to get your wings.
To leave this life behind you,
And enjoy all of heavens beautiful things.
So wait for me in heaven Lala,
Don’t let me come alone.
The day the angels come for me,
Please be there to bring me home.

Lala ngoxolo Rhadebe Bhungane Mthimkhulu.
I will always love you and miss you my Lala!!!

Related links

2014 Jan.9: Brenda Mvula’s Memorial Service

and

2014 Jan. 10: Opulence at the memorial service of Brenda “the hustler”

On 2nd Jan.2014, the LGBTI community heard of the sudden passing of Brenda ‘the hustler’ Mvula.

A week later, 9th Jan. 2014 a memorial service was held by friends to commemorate her life at Act Church in Midrand.
The 11th Jan. 2014 came and she was buried in Sterkspruit, Eastern Cape.
Only a handful of people from Joburg and Pretoria attended the funeral.
They mourned alongside the family…

This album contains photos from Brenda’s funeral…

Photos by Lindeka Qampi (2014/01/11)

Related links

2014 Jan.9: Brenda Mvula’s Memorial Service

and

2014 Jan. 10: Opulence at the memorial service of Brenda “the hustler”

and

2014 Jan. 27: If I only had five minutes…

by Lebo Leptie Phume

 
Sitting in this taxi my eyes fill with tears from thinking about where I come from. Things were easy for me while my grandmother and my mother were alive, I never had to hustle because I got everything I wanted.  I was living the life.

26 May 2002 is a date I will never forget even if want to. It is a day where my life completely changed. Losing someone you love dearly is the most painful thing one could ever experience. It is worse if it happens on your birthday. Till this day I’m not over her death. I don’t know if I ever will.

Unknown to me things were about to get tougher. It was not long after I had lost my mother, that I had to bid goodbye to my grandmother as well. Sejana se setle hase jelwe I finally understood what that meant after losing my grandmother, the only person that made me have hope after the loss of my mother. I had known that with her by my side I could tackle the world.

It’s true when they say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I remember saying “Ketlo sala lemang” when  they lowered the coffin of my grandmother. I felt like digging a hole and burying myself because without her I felt like a penny with a hole in it.

Losing both my mother and grandmother at a tender age forced me to grow up fast.
I had to find the strength within me as I had no one to depend on but myself. It was time for me to make things happen with what life had thrown at me. I had to make adjustments as I had to then understand what it meant to need for the very first time, as I had moved from the world of plenty to nothing. It was not easy but I had to accept it and I purposed in my heart that I was not going be a victim of circumstances.
I started hustling just to have food for lunch at school.

I embrace myself through my love for fashion and I take out all my stresses through my God given talent – which is soccer. It is true what they say that “God has a plan for all of us” and I believe that.
Through all my soccer achievements He is the one who made them possible.  I started playing soccer at the age of 9 years on the dusty streets of Katlehong, where I grew up playing with boys. In Grade 3 I joined an all-boys soccer team called Two for Joy.
The love for football grew as I continued to play. I never got any special treatment just because I was a female. Instead they kicked me hard until I learned how to kick as hard as they did.

After the passing of my grandmother I moved to KwaThema. I joined an all-girls team called This is where I got my first big break. Coach Joseph “Skheshe” Mkhonza saw potential in me. Then he decided to take me to trials for Gauteng province. My experience of playing with boys came in handy as I feared no girls and tackled anyone that came my way like I tackled the boys I used to play with. Being selected for the Gauteng team and being named captain was a dream come true for me. I saw the light, I believed I was good enough.

That same year I saw myself flying off to France to represent South Africa in the Tour de France tournament. It was surprising and shocking how I had achieved so much in a short space of time. From being a nobody to being respected by your fellow team mates and opponents is great achievement and feeling.

I had never felt so good. My confidence soared and I believed that anything could happen if I put my mind and my heart to it. For a moment I forgot all my problems and I let soccer make me happy. Soccer became the drug I needed. When I was called up for the national under 17 team, I wished my grandmother could witness that moment.   I could not believe I was wearing the green and gold track suit on my first day in camp. It was like a dream. Being promoted to the national under 20 made me feel wanted, like I was needed to assist the team. There is no greater feeling than when I am inside the soccer field, should it be as a defender or as a goalkeeper.  I feel at peace, I feel like the world is right on the middle of my palm.

My love for football could not fade over night or ever even.  It runs through my veins. I take pride in being a no nonsense defender, and a hard tackler. The fact that my late grandmother passed on knowing and encouraging me to play and never stop playing, propels me to play with all my heart. Every time I step into the soccer field I play for her and my mother because I know they are smiling down at me and most of all I play for myself. Contrary to what people believe, my lesbianism did not influence me to play soccer. I became a soccer player before I even knew I was lesbian.

Soccer is not the only thing I am passionate about. For as long as I can remember, I have always loved dressing up and looking good, whether I go somewhere or not.
I guess I took it from my mother who was always well groomed and she loved clothes too. It is hard to define my style as I wear anything I think will look good on me. From being a sporty person I am, I used to love sportswear more than anything. But as I grow up my eyes opened. I saw there was more to life than sportswear. As time went by my interest in fashion grew beyond just sportswear.

2012 Dec. 22 After winning the LGBTI Recognition award

Dressing up is therapeutic for me, it eases my pains. I feel like it brings me closer to my mother as she loved fashion too. I am not defined by the clothes I wear and the price-tag on them. I simply love style and have great taste no matter the price. Being nominated for the best dresser award at the LGBTI Recognition Awards 2012 was a stepping stone for me. It opened my eyes, letting me know that people adore my style. That is when I knew I was doing something good. I want to be the voice of all the fashion loving lesbians in Africa and the world as a whole. I believe I can break the norm and show the world that lesbians also have a voice.
People always evolve, things evolve so it is time fashion did too.

‘Leptie’ the fashionista, soccer player… on vacation at the Durban South beach in March 2014.

I am hoping all the designers one day will take note that they need to expand their male range to accommodate lesbians too. There is nothing more frustrating than going shopping but failing to find the right size just because the male cuts are too big. Through me, designers can have a huge following as my fellow lesbians love looking good like myself and I know for a fact they will sell.

People break new grounds everyday, it’s about time that lesbians did the same and stopped conforming. I refuse to be seen under dressed as you will never know who you will meet while you are out. Every occasion is an opportunity to dress up and present yourself in the best possible manner. Appearance speaks for you before you speak.

As I would say “everyday is a fashion show and the world is my run way”.  That is the creed that I live by and dressing up is not a hobby but what I love.  They say dress up like you going to meet your worst enemy everyday.

Lebo ‘Leptie’ PHUME, Daveyton, Johannesburg, 2013. She is featuring in Zanele Muholi’s                                    Faces and Phases series.

You may see me dressed well and think that my life was easy.  Well allow me to tell you that behind the beautiful face you see is a lesbian who is torn into a million pieces, who is still in need of her mother and grandmother’s love and guidance. However life goes on.  I press forward gracefully for the love of soccer and fashion. This is my journey.

Previous by Lebo

2014 May 13: “Making love to it”

and

2014 April 9:  Born for this

and

2014 Jan.21:  My Woman

and

2013 Nov.14:  Photos from 2013 Feather Awards

Text by Lerato Dumse
Photos by Kamo Petlele
The joint funeral of lesbian activist Manku Maduwane (52) and her niece Monica Maduwane (36) was held at the Kwa-Thema Civic Hall on September 7.

The two women passed away on September 3, Manku after battling cervical cancer and Monica fell ill and died suddenly after hearing of her aunt’s passing.

Manku’s passing raises the issue of lesbian women and pap smears, which seem to be unpopular.

Thuli Tshili who was in a relationship with Manku described her as kind and a people’s person but strict.

Despite strict and protective nature, Thuli says Manku had a soft spot for her.

Thuli said that Manku saw LGBTI youth as not carrying the baton in the LGBTI struggle.

She adds that her family and friends as well as Manku’s friends have all been a source of strength and support.

After the service at the hall, mourners then moved to Vlakfontein cemetery for the women to be layed in their final resting place, next to each other.

In her facebook post Phumi Mtetwa said coming out in the 80s, “it was warm and beautiful to be supported by people like Manku and MaThoko.
Manku was the most visible leader of the 80s lesbian and gay struggle in the East Rand. She stood firm, bold and courageous. She offered refuge to so many coming out people, who had been chased away from their homes.”

While speaking after the funeral, Xolile Dzanibe said in their 33 year long friendship Manku was frank and assisted many in their coming out.

One niece wrote in her funeral message that she never felt the gap of never having a father in her life as Manku provided for her adequately.

Manku’s friend Paddy Nhlapo was one of the pallbearers.

Nombango Mampondo lay the wreath of flowers on her friend’s grave.

About the photographer

Kamo Petlele (16) is a Grade 10 learner at Aurora Girls High School in Soweto. She is currently involve in 2014 PhotoXP visual project where young female photographers are learning and documenting their communities.
This funeral form part of the field trips where each participant is required to work with a journalist tackling real newsworthy stories.

Previous by Lerato

2014 Aug. 23: Relatives and friends shed the tears at Gift’s funeral and some fainted

It has been two months since you passed on.

There has never been a day that went by since that dreadful day that I have not thought of you.

Each day that passes with tears in my eyes I think of you and what you meant to me.

My thoughts are full of question marks.
Why did you have to die?
Why did you have cancer?
Why didn’t I try harder to get you to see a doctor sooner?
Did I fail you?
Was it time?
Where are you?
How are you feeling?
Do you remember me?
Most of all I wonder if you are OK where you are.

At first I did not want to believe it. Then I felt the most excruciating pain in my heart, a kind of pain I cannot explain to another, pain that only I can understand.

I thought talking about it will ease the pain, I thought crying would make me feel better, I thought getting drunk will help, but none of the above worked because deep in my heart I still feel it.

Even though my tears are getting less with each day that passes. I still cry and I miss you. I know these questions will remain unanswered, at least not in this lifetime, but I still have them.

There was a time that I was filled with overwhelming anger. Angry at myself for not trying harder, angry at you my love for giving in to death, angry at death for stealing the only thing that made sense in my life, angry at God for allowing it to happen especially after I prayed so hard and begged him to spare your life. I am still dealing with that. I know I should not blame anyone but I lost treasure, and find it difficult to understand.

I have had so many dreams of you since your passing, some soothing to the heart, some heartbreaking, some just added to my anger, but most of all some reassured me that maybe just maybe you are in a better place. I wish I could have as clear sign that you are ok.

I wish I could have a clear sign that you ok, that somehow we will always be connected. I hope you know just how much I miss you still and that I still love you dearly.

I have heard these words so many times ‘in time it will be better’, ‘time is the greatest healer’, ‘you will feel better in time’ that they started sounding like bluh bluh bluh bluh…

Every time I heard these words it only felt worse each day as it sunk in that I will never see you again in the land of the mortals. Now that time has lapsed I am starting to understand what these words meant because indeed I am feeling better. Now I can talk about you without shedding a tear.

I am far from acceptance, I must confess, but I know that though I may never understand I will eventually accept and move on. I still visit your grave whenever I miss you too much, I am not sure why but I feel better every time I do.

It still feels like a bad dream that you are gone forever, that my eyes shall never behold your face nor my ears you voice hear, that my hands shall never touch you nor my body your touch feel.

I remember you and all the good times, the challenges, the arguments, the laughs, the tears, the joys and most of all the dreams we had for the future.

Well you are gone my love my friend and my soul mate but you are far from forgotten you shall forever be in my heart for you left an everlasting mark in my life.

You had an impact that no one has ever had, you were one of a kind, a once in a lifetime. If there is anyone out there more honest than you I am yet to meet them, you were honest even if the truth was bitter and I respected you for that.

I pray that your soul rest in eternal peace and that God be with you till we meet again. Catherine Mabe Manku Maduwane
I will always love and miss you.

Yours always

Nokuthula Thuli Tshili

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2014 Sept. 8: Manku and her niece buried next to each other

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2014 Oct. 21: A tribute to the late lover

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We write letters into ANCient scrolls
with ANCient mentalities that refuses to act now…
We recite poems into dead societies with zombies in suits and big bellies..
Nobody hears us, we are in the basement of their thoughts…
long forgotten but remembered when we are needed to perform a task…
Our revolutionary acts may go on, but guess what?
We are only just cheerleaders at a morgue, better yet at a cemetery..

They undress you…
Fuck you until the lust filled souls cums into your dreams, into your hopes..
Your rights and your dignity…
This disease manifested cum spreading flies that are eating away at your visions..
Don’t you see?
It’s all just a fucking political orgy.
Screw me, screw you and screw the rest!

You are a whore of society…
Tell me…
How many times will you write about it?
How many times must you read about it?
How many innocent lives should rot in hell until you know and get it?
How many brave deeds does the world need?
Wasn’t Vietnam enough?
Isn’t the death of one innocent soul enough to drive Jesus nuts?
Isn’t the dark murky society rotten enough with a pungent smell enough to suffocate any evil left in this world?

Society you are evil…
We’ve been told we are going to hell…
Oh let me tell you something, nothing can be more hellish than your twisted minds…
Society you are hell..
Unless of course we are pussies with nine lives then we can endure another hell…
We live in hell, with hell and to think our destination is still another hell is laughable.
How many hells does one soul goes through?
Because one hell is enough..

We dress in shame and hide our wrists with silent chains…
We love with fearful hearts and terrified souls…
It seems like our vaginas have created a war within your souls…
A raging beast that thinks a penis is a master…
Well penis…
You are nothing but a sharp rod pointing at the direction of hell.

What makes you a MAN??
Your ability to look at a short skirt and stand in ovation?
oh wait wait..
Your perversity to look at an infants vagina and get a hard on?
…are you serious?
What on God’s earth do you think you are doing?
Don’t you see?
That child is the future!
Yours, MINES and OURS you sick paedophile..
Your mentality to see a woman and see some object that needs to be dicked down in order to correct their choices is inhumane..
Who do you think you are?
Who told you that power lies in the size of your damn god forbidden penis?

We are running around carrying our grandmothers anguish..
Our little sisters cries…
Our babies innocence
Our nieces pleas
Our mothers go into labour every time we miss a minute to get home.
You have killed the bond…
We live in fear…
Incase they strike..
Incase we fall victim..
Incase we get stoned for being ourselves..
Incase we…
Incase we run out of strength.

We are carrying corpses as hearts..
We are dying of menstrual pains every time a woman gets raped..
Every time a woman gets abused.
We are all mothers whether we have caesarean sections or no sections at all.
Whether we have miscarriages countless times because the new pure souls are scared to come join us in this hell..
We all feel right in our guts every time another woman suffers, the feeling is intense, every time we are left holding our sides, bending as if we will pray,
The feeling forces us to to get on our knees and stand in the gap in prayer for one another..
The invisible umbilical chords of the babies connects us and creates an atmosphere of love, hope and faith.
We bleed for our sisters we’ve lost in this hell..
Our babies cribs are empty..
Our rocking chairs are sad.
But their cries never left us…
They won’t leave us..

Until our vaginas are free..
Until our bodies are protected..
Until..
Until.. Until our minds are healed..
We just need freedom that’s all..
You can never put a price or vote for that…
Be kind… always.

by Thuthula Sodumo
© 2014

Related links

2014 May 27: You’re a beauty

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2014 Jan. 30:  Paraplegic’s bed

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2013 Nov. 12:  God, the lesbian, the sin

by Nosipo Solundwana

My laughter has turned into a frown, I can’t bare thinking about my life before and now. A lot has changed, I gave up my life to be here and thought I would be happy, but all has turned out wrong.

The author’s portrait, Nosipo taken at the former Women’s Jail, Con Hill, Johannesburg. Photo by Lindeka Qampi/ Inkanyiso (2015/06/05)

I don’t regret all the decisions I made, I am just looking forward to pulling my life together again. I am done living in tears, pain, frowns and shame. It’s about time I stand up to my challenges and stop complaining about life. Its time I turned my life around for the better. To give up the claim for compensation means I suffer loss for letting go of the offense.

One thing I did for myself, I freed myself from the continuation of pain, and it’s an issue between my God and me. Forgiving means self-deliverance, taking ownership and reclaiming my true self in life.  Do the people who hurt you control your life?
That’s totally wrong. I can’t be held emotionally hostage, I release my self-absorption and self-destruction, if I do not forgive I allow perpetration and vengeance is God’s. Failure to forgive others or myself is a form of” PRIDE”.

I release all to God for his a righteous judge. I never desire to see the destruction of others; the greatest form of revenge is success. Love is more potent than hatred. I personally learnt that I shouldn’t degrade myself, be so hard on myself, judge myself nor give low self-esteem. I shouldn’t utter defiant words to myself and to emancipate myself from myself. Forgiving someone is difficult, I often misunderstood the word forgiveness, forgiveness is not forgetting, not a feeling but a choice. It does not demand revenge and also does not mean reconciliation. I can forgive someone and not reconcile because the hurt or pain we bring to others is not the same.

Forgiving is Costly.

Previous by Nosipo

2015 May 5: My journey so far in life

Theatre performance review by Lebo Mashifane

I feel the chill of “the winter rain”…no; the chills of a great performance as I become engulfed by Sibulele Gcilitshana playing the role of Thokozile in a  A New Song play written and directed by Napo Masheane, opened on Wednesday, 28 October 2015.

Sam Mathe – live theatre (The Sunday Independent, October 25 2015, p. 2) “A New Song will make history… when it becomes the first theatre production to be staged at the Market Theatre with a woman as a producer, writer and director.” 

This beautiful busy bee butterfly – yes, I said it, bee butterfly; has been locally and internationally active as a performer, publisher, executive member and founder of several items and she still breathes and bleeds for women empowerment.

I personally remember Napo as the voice that said “Whatever you want, wants you. Whatever need, needs you. Whatever you seek, seeks you” (a poem she recited). As if she spoke directly to my soul and made me feel like I could grip a dream and have what is impossible, become tangible. She has returned to my attention, this time with A New Song depicting beauty and bravery to captivate my soul, skin and site. One woman, one face as the emphasis of their concept that every woman is different even though they have struggles and successes.

Four black women are “domestic workers” to lonely white women. Napo could have her own way of describing it perhaps. Themi Baleka who plays a role of Bantu,a helper that looks after a white-owned family house and raise a baby of the white-owned family to eventually calling the baby that she raised as “madam” as she now works for her. Bantu being the first to “comply” to the passbook system yet eventually reaches her demise. These black women carry different domestic struggles from their homes to their “madams” homes. By “their home” I also consider the home of their core, their hearts – their hearts’ desires and their hearts’ destructions.
They thirst for freedom, liberation from racism and sexism.

The portrayal of black heroines who fought to death in the 50’s in South Africa. They fight for their rights no to carry pass books/ “reference book” (a barcoded booklet from the home affairs department issued to the black citizens). The guts of a brave and bitter black woman make her the leader of the Congress movement that eventually makes her an independent free woman. ‘Sbindi uyabulala, sibindi uyaphilisa’ (a Zulu saying translated to bravery you kill, bravery you rescue).

Lebo Mashifane, featuring in Faces and Phases series.                    Photo taken at District Six, Cape Town, 2009

“Sometimes silence is the best conversation”. “Sometimes silence is the only weapon” are the words of not a black, nor a white woman, but an Indian woman who plays a discreet yet dense role in the play.

The intense feeling along with the astounding lighting and music that includes Congo drums made me quiver and chant to “Mayibuye iAfrika” (Africa must return to its rightful owners – as the character Thokozile well defines the Zulu phrase). A fusion of images displayed from an overhead projector, words, emotions, acting, dance and music that gives one the shivers.

I cried tears of joy when I read that the main theatre at The Market Theatre is changing to John Kani Theatre in honor of the great legend of South Africa. It is paramount to honor our pioneers while they are still alive; unlike nonsensical practices of honoring them when they are dead whereas opportunities availed for them to witness their commemoration.

Let Africa return to its rightful owners. Since even street names are changing in the country, perhaps in the near future even The Market Theatre could be renamed… maybeeee Gcina Mhlophe Theatre!!!

ONE WOMAN, ONE FACE!

Previous by Lebo

2015 Jan. 17:  My Durban virgin-ity breaks

by Tinashe Wakapila

Knight and shining armour come in the image of males, who are strong and powerful. These men fight and correct problems every now and again. My article is a grieving article, a poetic article filled with flashback memories of a Knight and shining amour who came as a woman and turned my life around. If I forget to mention anything on this article, just know that it is all recorded inside.

Qhawekazi, Ndlovukazi, Siwiliwili, Ngane yeZulu!

The day I stepped my feet into VMCI I experienced anew life changing moments spiritually. Get me right dear reader or article viewer, what I am about to write is not what VMCI is only about, but rather the circumstances that befalls this wonderful church.

 

2015 April 25 MaGesh Zungu, Brooklyn, New York City. Photo by Zanele Muholi

MAGATSHENI MAGESH ZUNGU

My hand and heart ache as I type
THE LATE…….

Like a Rose that has been plucked out of the fresh valley of different bouquets, very addictive yet healthy scent/ fragrance that passes its fresh molecules around. So was her warm welcome to the children of the Lord in the house of God VMCI. I do not know how she might have made you feel. My encounter with her, I as a foreign national in Durban, queer gendered woman, youth, believer and lady prayer, she taught me that love covers a multitude of sin. Regardless of how you may feel towards your life never miss the important thing which is Praising and Worshipping God, she said.

I am getting carried away with Myself, Magesh. The second time of my coming to church, my IsiZulu was not up to standard, I went up to her to pass my greeting she looked at me with her warm eyes and an understanding nod of encouragement and said to me “I know you are not from around I spoke to ubaba (Pastor Zungu) ukuthi siyenze i plan for us to have an interpreter.”

She placed herself in my shoes with my obvious confusion of the language. I felt at home, even when I was far away from her with her everlasting care, love and encouragement.

She taught me the way to hold myself high and she said “Njengoba Indlovukazi iyagqoka umqhele we glass, uyayisabela ukuthi if it drops it will break, always raise your head up high and never look down.

MORAL: The Hero that we lost as VMCI, is not just an ordinary Mam’ Mfundisi, she was extraordinary, her care was the care I had not known. For one moment I said to myself, this is a rare human.

God finally realized his Angel was missing and took it away.
A mother, best friend, sister, wife, caregiver, healer, counsellor, psychotherapist, name it, she was all in one.

What touches me the most is that I was a foreigner, a rare human in another land, she preached to me about Moses and how he grew up in the foreign land but still took domain. She never said she cannot encourage me because I am different. Instead she sought to make me strong and hardworking.

She was a Warrior, a lady. An ambassador, a soldier of the Lord, a woman of virtue, who would have stopped at nothing to bring a smile on a down face, a spiritual strength at  a thirsty soul.

The skies look wonderful and clear, oh the heavens cannot contain the beauty that you bring out and radiate.

Your memories are everyone’s life solace.

May the beautiful memories of the times we spent with you when the spirit and flesh were still together be even enhanced with us, celebrating and joining you in spirit every time
WE DEVOUR IN OUR SPIRIT WORLD.

As I wrote this article I was smiling hard with a tear on my cheek, you are reading and listening from the heavens above, there is nothing your children value more than your love, nommater where we are, what we are doing, your memories will keep us going and smiling.

Uyathandwa and the wonderful castle you are building for all of us there is surely glamourous, fashionable and classical just like you Mom. 

We will make you proud.
Words will be endless
Farewell Dwala Elihle. 

Founder of Dwala, now and forever remember you told me to write minutes after our Dwala meeting. 

This will not be my last but today I am proud to write the glimpsed minutes of your life from the day I met you till we parted, I submit it to you.

 
Related link

2015 Dec. 24:  Remembering Magesh Zungu

Previous by Tinashe

2015 Jan. 3:  I dropped out of the closed many times

 

by Leptie Phume

I remember the 25th of May was on a Saturday then, the younger me was very excited that it will be my birthday the following day and mom will come. Well that is what I was told by my grandmother. Normally a party would be thrown for me even though it was never those big fancy parties. It was always pyjama parties which I loved dearly, and only my closest friends attended. It was like more of a ritual thing, they knew that.

26 May 2002, my day on a Sunday. Energetic me is very excited, everything was all good until I question about why we not going to shop for my birthday. My grandma replied with a “Hakena tjhelete Lebo” answer, impossible I thought to myself. From my face only, you could see the anger and disappointment without me saying a word. I couldn’t believe what she just told me, because I knew a day before I saw she had money. I asked myself where did it all go.

Throughout the day the mood was tense. You could tell something was not right. I even overheard my grandma telling one of our closest family friend. She told her how she could sense something bad will happen or happened. I stood there hoping that she will say she’s kidding my party will be happening later at night but it never did.

Monday, 27 May 2002. Weekend done and dusted and I was excited that mom is coming today. I kept telling my friends at school that my mother will be home when I come back from school. After school I bought bunch of popsicles and hurried back home, when I got there the house was full. I greeted and shoot straight to my room to change while sucking on my popsicle, after all it was training day.I remember that day vividly as it unfolds, our neighbour, Sis Thandi walked in the room to call me. When we got to the dining room I sat down, I could see from their eyes something bad happened. I suddenly got worried and scared, my gran was there, everyone whom I’m fond to was there.

My gran started by saying you know we love you, all of us in this room. I just nodded my head and looked at all of them. She asked me who Pinkie is and with a smile on my face I proudly told her that is my mother. She shrugged and took a deep breath while I wait on her to tell me she’s on her way but things took a quick turn.

She told me my mother was in hospital, my heart shrank as she tells me. I got worried, my mind was pacing thinking whether she’s ok where she is. I thought of my sister, my 2nd grandmother all I wanted to hear was don’t worry she will be fine. Instead all I heard was Pinkie passed away yesterday morning, I felt like the world had dropped on my shoulders. My life in a younger age fell apart, nothing made sense in that moment all I wanted to do was follow her.

I quickly zone out, my body was there but my mind was far away. I couldn’t cry even though I wanted to, I felt my eyes getting watery but I held the tears back.
I kept quiet, was told to go pack my clothes as I was going to Springs. I stood up went to my room and when I got there I sobbed so hard. I felt like God doesn’t love me, I kept questioning his ways. I asked him why would he took my mother from me on my birthday. I asked him whether his happy to see me cry like that. Sis Thandi walked in on me crying and I tried to stop but she told me to cry even more and not hold back the pain I’m feeling. I cried so much that I felt like crying ain’t helping. I kept on recalling all my moments with her.  I hated the doctors and nurses who couldn’t save her life for me. To this day my birthdays are filled with mixed emotions.  I don’t know whether I should celebrate them or not. No matter how excited I would be when my birthday approaches but come the 26th I get emotionally unstable.

I am 25 years today and the pain is still as sharp as it was then. I never get used to it and it never gets easier but I learned to live with it. I don’t wish anyone the pain I endured in my young me days.

Previous link by Leptie

2016 April 18: “The fashionista in Me”

and

2014 May 18: Behind the beautiful face you see is a lesbian who is torn into a million pieces

Farewell May Biyela  a.k.a Mkhulu MENZIWA
Ndabezitha, Zulu, Mageba, a maternal grandchild of Khanyile clan.

A funeral service with a difference was attended by community members and Victorious Ministries Church International (VMCI) whose congregants are of the LGBTQIA community.  Majority of those present were women.

Date : 08.12.2019
Venue: Biyela Village  (Esgodini sakwa Biyela) Eshowe, KwaZulu-Natal
Start time:  10:45
Presiding Pastor: Apostle Zungu
Funeral Home: Icebolethu

In attendance: VMCI  congregation, family and friends
Succeeded by wife:  Rita Plaatjies a.K.a Maplaatjies
Children: 2 daughters and a son with grandchildren
Siblings: one sister

IN WORSHIP: VMCI CHOIR
Leading worshipper: Mbali Biyela

Documentation: Inkanyiso Crew
Thobeka Bhengu, Lizzie Ziqubu & Zanele Muholi

Zungu conducted burial rights, welcoming of the body and ushering of the coffin into the house to perform burial rituals and led it into the tent where the last funeral service of Menziwa took place.

Lighting of candles was performed by  congregants, taking turns in holding the white candles followed prayer Evangelist Mngoma.

Pastor Nkambule presided as MC over the farewell service. Bathini Dambuza read the obituary. GOGO  BIYELA spoke on behalf of the family to welcomed all who attended  and assured the community that they were safe and did not need to feel to feel unwelcome, the family knew of the late community lifestyle and it is something that existed long ago even with our great ancestors. Spoke highly of Menziwa as the Princess of the Biyela clan who chose Christ as a way.

Senzelwikhaya song  followed Gogo Biyela  speech as that was Mkhulu Menziwa  favorite song.

Community speaker, Mr Sabela bided farewell to May.  Then May’s grandson Sthembile (whom Mkhulu raised as His son) thanked his mother for raising and sang Mkhulu’s song, Izintombi nezinsizwa ezinhle.

Sphephile Shandu, May’s granddaughter  performed “Inkondlo” /Poem  bidding farewell her grandmother, blaming death for robbing her of more time with her grandmother whom she referred to as her twin due to striking resemblance between them.

Mr Xaba  who spoke on behalf of friends, touched on their last days together deciding on the final resting home where Mkhulu expressed wish of being put to His final home next to His biological family, at His Home. Xaba, then sang “I am going home” as a goodbye to his friend.

VMCI  special  choir group ( Inkazimulo) rendered items of worship  as their way to bid farewell.

Baba Mkhize spoke on behalf of the church. He gave a background of the church whose mission and goal is to grant home and hope to the excluded community of LGBTQIA+ members who are often judged and excluded from main stream churches. He touched on how dedicated Menziwa was as a Christian and a member of the church.

Gogo Biyela   came back to acknowledge Mkhulu’s partner whom she left out when she spoke of Her later brother. She welcomed her as official wife of late Menziwa whom they never met in person.

Grandchildren Sthembiso and Nompendulo spoke on behalf of the grandchildren

Pastor Sibisi delivered the Sermon for the service,

Opened Cor 2  verse 5
Which He used to encourage the family to be strong with the knowledge that, the body is just an empty shell which houses our souls and spirit, which some day will give in.  Encouraged the family to find comfort in knowing that, Menziwa  prepared for his journey, He was in Christ.

Apostle Zungu performed last burial rights for late Menziwa and the  service  proceeded to Mkhulu’s final home on earth at Malibele Grave yard  where the Biyela family lay their loved ones.

A sad day of loss that celebrated life of the Hero in a dignified manner with praise and humility.
A human life is beyond sexuality, colour and societal classification. We are all humans before all else.

Rest in perfect, Menziwa

BVL Zazi
Eshowe
8.12.2019