Latest news with #HughMasekela
The Star
23-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Star
Thandiswa Mazwai on the power of music and the celebration of African heritage
As May celebrates the beauty of African culture and heritage, acclaimed musician Thandiswa Mazwai reflects on her enduring commitment to African culture highlighting the profound role it plays in her life and music. With Ancestors Day earlier this month leading the charge, Mazwai tells Saturday Star that embracing her cultural heritage is more than just remembrance; it is a lively revival of the African people's stories, music, and spirit, which is rooted in every aspect of her artistry. "For me, celebrating history means more than remembering the past - it's about reviving the stories, sounds, and spirit of our people. It's about using music and tradition as powerful tools to reconnect with who we are and where we come from," she says. In a collaboration with Castle Milk Stout, the Congress of Traditional Leaders of South Africa (CONTRALESA), and the National House of Traditional and Khoi-San Leaders (NHTKL), Mazwai says they aim for Ancestors Day to achieve official recognition as a National Day of Commemoration in South Africa. The music sensation explains that this initiative, sparked in 2021, seeks to raise awareness about the importance of honouring ancestors nationwide. 'Castle Milk Stout and I have been partners for many years, grounded in a shared commitment to celebrating African culture and heritage. Together, we are amplifying the call to give Ancestor's Day the national recognition it deserves,' she emphasises. With this month, infused with the essence of heritage, she says it is also a reminder of the importance of daily celebration. 'Heritage is a living, breathing thing and should be engaged and celebrated every day. A dedicated month is pivotal, as it helps draw attention to some disappearing cultures and cultural practices. Ancestors are lineage. It is important to have some knowledge of what one's bloodline has endured and survived and what they may have invented. As stated in one of my songs, 'andihambi ndedwa'. The award-winning musician also reflects on her three-decade journey in the music industry, during which time she has had the privilege of working with iconic figures such as Hugh Masekela, Busi Mhlongo, and Miriam Makeba. 'I have been in the industry for 30 years and worked with many of my heroes. People like Hugh Masekela and Busi Mhlongo, who were not only mentors but dear friends. Also great legends like Miriam Makeba. I have been truly blessed.' While discussing her creative intentions, Mazwai elaborates on the distinct desires guiding her recordings versus her live performances. 'The intention of the recording is different from the intention of the live performance. One hopes to create peace and healing while the other hopes to inspire exuberance and a sense of freedom. But all of it hopes to inspire pride and self-worth for the African child.' [email protected] Saturday Star
Mail & Guardian
16-05-2025
- General
- Mail & Guardian
Migrant labour in the digital age exploited
(Graphic: John McCann/M&G) The wealth of white South Africa was first built on the expropriation of land, and then the exploitation of black labour, much of it migrant labour. The lives of men from places like Sul do Save in Mozambique and eMampondweni in the Eastern Cape were consumed by the mines. Women left their families to work in white people's homes. Black exploitation — organised through containment and surveillance and legitimated by racism — produced systemic impoverishment. While remnants of the old system of migrant labour remain, such as the decaying hostels in some of our cities, the passbooks have gone, as have the trains — the metal snakes that carried the men to the mines. Hugh Masekela's Stimela is a song about the past. But new forms of migrant labour still generate corporate wealth, and enable the ease of middle-class life. In the suburbs and gated communities, the most visible form of migrant labour is the growing number of men making deliveries on motorcycles. A rider from Malawi explains that he cannot begin to enjoy even the most basic pleasures of life until he has saved R30 000. This is the cost of repatriating his body if he is killed on the job. A rider working without making provision for the possibility of death risks binding his family to debt. It has been said that riding a delivery motorcycle is the most dangerous job in South Africa. The labour movement has always carried limits to its understanding of what counts as work, who counts as a worker and what counts as a workplace. These limits have often been shaped by broader lines of exclusion, such as race, caste, nationality and gender. Domestic work has seldom been taken as seriously as other forms of work. Sex work has seldom been understood as work. When contemporary trade unions draw on narrow understandings of 19th-century ideas and 20th-century experiences, they are unable to take adequate measure of changing forms of work. Planetary pain Capital's offensive against unions has been significantly boosted by the rise of the gig economy in general, and 'platform-based' work in particular. By recasting exploitative corporations as 'platforms', and workers as 'independent contractors' or 'entrepreneurs', capital has absolved itself of responsibilities that, in many societies, had come to be seen as basic obligations to workers. It has also enabled new and totalising forms of surveillance. There is frequently no paid leave, no compensation for accidents, no life insurance or pension and no provision for breaks to rest, use the toilet and eat. Payment is usually for jobs completed rather than time worked, and people are summarily removed from the apps without any kind of due process or recourse for unfair practices. A motorcycle courier deemed to be an independent contractor is under constant pressure to meet delivery times, navigate dangerous roads and neighbourhoods, and absorb the costs of fuel, maintenance and repairs. 'Platform' work is a planetary phenomenon, as evident in London as in Johannesburg. In India, it is estimated that there are about 7.7 million people working with digital 'platforms'. One study concludes that about 23.5 million will be working this way in five years' time. In Brazil, about 1.5 million people are working through 'platforms'. The 'platforms' do not only organise the exploitation of labour in new forms of work, such as delivering food using apps. They are also bringing older forms of work, such as domestic work, under their control. This shift has been accompanied by the development of a more decentralised and less institutionally mediated ideological configuration — shaped by Pentecostal churches, social media, videos and podcasts — that celebrates a vision of individual success. Wealth is presented as virtue, and the entrepreneur as a heroic figure. In this world, many prefer the seduction of Instagram to the community or union meeting, and the hope of making it on their own to collective organisation. This new ideological landscape intersects with older forms of domination and exclusion. In India, platform workers are mostly from oppressed castes. In Brazil, this form of labour is strongly racialised. A study by the late Eddie Webster and Fikile Masikane found about 90% of food courier riders in Johannesburg are migrants. Warren McGregor, the programme coordinator of the Global Labour University at Wits, argues that this is one reason why established unions in South Africa have not shown much interest in organising riders and drivers. He explains that the limited support they have received has primarily come from labour support organisations. As is the case around the world, riders and drivers in South Africa have formed WhatsApp groups to share warnings, organise mutual aid and discuss issues. These networks are a modest but potentially significant step toward self-organisation. Brazil In Brazil, the Movimento dos Trabalhadores Sem Teto (MTST) — the Homeless Workers' Movement, which has growing connections to Abahlali baseMjondolo in South Africa — is the most significant movement of the urban poor. It organises around land and building occupations, offering shelter and solidarity to people excluded from formal housing. Its social base is made up largely of informal and precarious workers — especially women and black Brazilians — many of whom work in construction, domestic service and recycling but still cannot afford to formally rent or own homes in the cities where they labour. The MTST has extended its work to 'platform' labour. It has supported the formation of cooperatives such as Liga Coop, a driver-owned and managed e-hailing service, and Señoritas Courier, a feminist, worker-owned delivery cooperative. It has also helped to create tools like the chatbot Contrate Quem Luta (Hire Those Who Struggle), which connects clients to marginalised workers. In some occupations, the movement has also established rest spaces where food delivery riders — many working long, isolated hours under algorithmic control — can pause to eat, rest, charge their phones and use the toilet. India In India, workers have organised around slogans such as 'Rating nahi, haq chahiye (We want rights, not ratings)' and 'Insaan hai hum, ghulaam nahi (We are human beings, not slaves)'. Committed work by and in support of 'platform' workers has resulted in important advances. In 2023, the state of Rajasthan passed a law extending labour rights and protections to these workers. Last year, draft Bills were introduced in Karnataka and Jharkhand with the aim of enacting similar gains. The draft Telangana Gig and Platform Workers (Social Security and Welfare) Bill, introduced last month, proposes a Welfare Board, automatic registration of workers, contributions from platform companies, protection against arbitrary deactivation, and mechanisms for resolving disputes. Crucially, it also calls for algorithmic transparency and access to data —issues central to workers' ability to contest how their labour is managed. These proposals are the result of sustained organising by the Telangana Gig and Platform Workers Union. In Karnataka, the United Food Delivery Partners' Union (UFDPU) has played a similar role. According to its president, Vinay Sarathy, while companies claim the workforce is transient, 'many workers in this sector work full-time' and are 'compelled to work 12 to 15 hours a day' to earn a basic living. Yet, they remain outside all formal labour protections. 'There is a constant fear of termination of work through ID blocking,' he notes, which leaves workers without income or recourse. Fundamental rights such as the freedom to organise are also under threat. Despite these hurdles, the UFDPU and other groups have helped secure some social protections for platform workers — but, as Sarathy stresses, 'the central issue — formal recognition of gig workers as workers under labour law — remains unresolved.' One of the UFDPU's practical demands speaks directly to the everyday indignities faced by riders: that restaurants be obliged to allow delivery workers access to toilets. The All India General Strike called for 20 May will include the demand for 'platform' workers to be recognised as workers. McGregor argues that in South Africa the struggles of 'platform' workers are nascent, and 'an opportunity to change long-standing and traditional modes of organising', and to revitalise the labour movement from below. In this context, even modest forms of organisation — WhatsApp groups, small associations and sporadic strikes — can begin to open fragments of political possibility. Richard Pithouse is distinguished research fellow at the Global Centre for Advanced Studies, an international research scholar at the University of Connecticut and professor at large at the University of the Western Cape.
IOL News
14-05-2025
- Entertainment
- IOL News
Harmonising change: the power of music in shaping society
Music acts as a bridge, enabling a sense of unity among diverse groups. Music is a powerful force that transcends boundaries, connecting people across cultures and sparking social change. Throughout history, songs have served as vocal instruments of protest, mediums of expression, and catalysts for societal progress, illuminating the complexities of human experience. From the liberation anthems of the 1960s to contemporary movements advocating for justice, the impact of music on society is profound and inescapable. Protest through melody One of the most notable ways music influences society is its role in activism. Throughout history, artists have used their craft to voice dissatisfaction with governmental policies and social injustices. Songs such as Bob Dylan's 'The Times They Are a-Changin'' served not only as anthems for the civil rights movement but also ignited conversations about change in a generation. In South Africa, the sounds of struggle resonated with artists such as Hugh Masekela and Miriam Makeba, whose music provided a voice to the anti-apartheid movement, inspiring millions to unite against oppression. Bridging gaps and fostering understanding Moreover, music acts as a bridge, enabling a sense of unity among diverse groups. Festivals and concerts have become platforms for inclusivity, where individuals from different backgrounds come together, often leading to conversations that give birth to understanding and empathy. Collaborative projects, such as Global Citizen's concerts, exemplify how music unites fans for a common cause, urging them to contribute to social change.
France 24
14-05-2025
- Entertainment
- France 24
Ageless beauty contest: South African grannies strut the catwalk
The event in the Tokoza township outside of Johannesburg featured prayers, speeches and a performance against domestic violence, a national scourge. But the main attraction was on the red carpet stretching down the community hall where grandmothers paraded with pride in a competition that is rare among the host of others for younger women. "This takes me way back, brings my youth back," Malinda, a great-grandmother of five, told AFP, breaking into a joyful jig to "Happy Mama" by legendary jazz musician Hugh Masekela. In this version of a beauty contest there were no swimsuit or evening wear categories. Instead, women paraded in their Sunday best, from sleeveless summer frocks to bold orange headwraps, strings of pearls to traditional wear. Floral fabrics and well-loved kitten heels hinted at celebrations past. Supporters -- mostly women from the Sukuma Mbokodo Support Group that organised the show -- clapped, ululated and fiddled with their phones to record the spectacle. Feeling 'young again' At the makeup corner, the top request was for deep red and berry toned lipsticks but most contenders chose to let their bare faces and bright smiles shine. Nearby, a teapot served cups of chai beside trays of scones. "They don't focus. When you are doing their makeup they want to multitask, talk, bark instructions," said 19-year-old volunteer hairdresser Ntokoza Ntshinga. The youngest contestant was 63 years old and the oldest 81. But it was septuagenarian Margaret Fatyela who took the silver-coated crown. "We are now like school children," she told AFP, seated next to her modest prize of tea set and a bag of toiletries. It was the first time the former domestic worker and mother of eight had entered a pageant. "I feel like I am young again, capable of doing everything," she said, looking towards the first runner-up, Lidia Mokoena, who did not hide her beard. 'Forgotten citizens' Organisers said the event was intended to celebrate the grandmothers and great-grandmothers on whom South Africa's largely impoverished society depends, even if they remain in the shadows. Nearly four in 10 children are raised in homes headed by grandparents, according to official data, with many parents forced to relocate for work, a high rate of teenage pregnancies and AIDS-related deaths among the contributing factors. "Often times the minute they take pension they are forgotten citizens, and all they do is look after great-grandchildren and grandchildren," local official Bridget Thusi told AFP. "To have programmes like this where they are celebrated and to forget the problems at home was really an amazing thing to see," she said. For Malindim it was a boost after losing her husband four years ago. "At our old age, we thought that maybe because our husbands are gone, everything is gone, it's the end of the world," she said. But the event "picked our spirits us we are still alive and life still goes on, we better make ourselves the right grannies," she said, her brown eyes sparkling.
