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TimesLIVE
06-07-2025
- TimesLIVE
Paige Nick on a killing spree of books
Reams of gore and intrigue in small-town South Africa As I type this, I'm on a serious killing spree across the Western Cape. First, I committed multiple murders in a small village there, possibly Stanford. Then I gouged out someone's eyes before murdering them in Cape Town, and I'm currently murdering someone in Knysna and trying to make that one look like a suicide. OK, no need to make a call to Crimeline to report me yet. I've just finished reading three killer debut South African crime authors that you really need to know about. Making a Killing by Bonnie Espie (Kwela): The moreish, fun cosy one Making a Killing by Espie is the first in what is sure to be a fun, new cosy crime series. I joyfully whipped through this novel with one eye closed at some points because it got deliciously gory. It's set in that small South African village we all recognise. Winifred has escaped the big city to hide from a dodgy past, and she opens a bookshop-slash-restaurant with a strange new accomplice, I mean acquaintance, Sylvie. Soon it appears murder is on the menu. The author lives in a small South African village herself. If I were her neighbours I'd sleep with one eye open; it seems murder comes to her terrifyingly easily. Unsolicited by Andrea Shaw (Jacana Media): The interesting, brilliant one set in publishing More murder on the menu here, but this one entirely deeper and darker. In Unsolicited a reader is found dead, eyes melted out! Detective Fatima Matthews is on the case, but she's on something else too: menopause. If her hot flushes would just ease up for half a second, maybe she could concentrate on the crime at hand. And speaking of crimes, her son is visiting with his wife, baby, and family too, so things are about to escalate. This murder is set in the publishing industry and Fatima is going to have to delve into the publishing house's slush pile to find more clues. But first, she's got to deal with her in-laws. If the Dead Could Talk by Juliette Mnqeta (Kwela): The gripping one that digs up the past The cop in question in this new series is detective Florian Welter, and he doesn't just have what looks like a high-profile politician's questionable suicide to solve, he also has to deal with his dyslexia and the covah, or rather havoc, it caused in his last job, which was what got him relegated to Knysna in the first place. This well-written, moreish police procedural crime thriller also tracks the story of the victim's daughter seeking closure. It's full of entertaining twists and conspiracy theories that go all the way back to the nineties. All three of these are clever, well-written novels. If you're a crime fan, and even if you're not, all are very much worth the read. So cosy up, and get ready to start guessing whodunnit. * Paige Nick is the author of the smash hit new novel Book People and several other acclaimed novels. She runs The Good Book Appreciation Society, a book club on Facebook with over 23k members, and hosts Book Choice on Fine Music Radio every second Tuesday at 12pm. She spends far too much time reading and writing, and hates plastic forks.
News24
04-07-2025
- Politics
- News24
Chief with a Double Agenda: A hidden history now open to South Africans
'Chief with a Double Agenda is not just a book about Buthelezi,' writes Mandla J Radebe in his introduction to this republished work. 'It is a book about betrayal, ideology, class collaboration and the dangers of political amnesia. It is about the ways in which colonial and apartheid regimes co-opted segments of the oppressed to maintain power and how those collaborations were rationalised in the language of pragmatism. It is about the limits of reconciliation without justice and the costs of democracy built on silence and expediency.' Gatsha Buthelezi: Chief with a Double Agenda was first published in London in 1988 but was made unavailable in South Africa because of litigation threats by Mangosuthu Buthelezi (clan name Gatsha). Jacana Media has now republished this historic work to make it widely available, and it is News24's Book of the Month for July. Operating from within the South African government's apartheid systems, Buthelezi – Chief Minister of the KwaZulu homeland – presented himself as a leading opponent of apartheid but resolutely opposed the struggle for liberation led by the ANC and its allies. He preached a doctrine of non-violence yet headed the Inkatha movement, which was widely accused of using violence against its opponents. In contrast to the call of the worldwide anti-apartheid movement for sanctions against South Africa, Buthelezi toured Western capitals seeking new investments. Who was this man, and what did he stand for? Whose side was he on? Jabulani Nobleman 'Mzala' Nxumalo examined these vital questions in an analysis using a wide range of materials, including interviews with some of Buthelezi's contemporaries, to investigate a complex political figure. In this edited extract from the introduction, Radebe gives the background to his controversial figure and the book. BOOK: Gatsha Buthelezi: Chief with a Double Agenda by Jabulani Nobleman 'Mzala' Nxumalo (Jacana) In the complex and contested history of South Africa's national liberation struggle, few figures have provoked as much controversy or generated such polarising views as the late 'traditional prime minister' to the Zulu kingdom and the founder of Inkatha Freedom Party, Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi (1928-2023). Revered by his followers as a traditionalist, nationalist, and statesman, and reviled by many within and beyond the liberation movement as a collaborator and reactionary, Buthelezi's political legacy remains entangled in contradictions. Nowhere are these contradictions more systematically dissected than in Jabulani Nobleman 'Mzala' Nxumalo's 1988 book Gatsha Buthelezi: Chief with a Double Agenda. Far from a conventional biography, Mzala's book qualifies to be regarded as a revolutionary polemic, influenced by Marxist-Leninist analysis and tradition, and intended not merely to inform but to also intervene. In this book, Mzala subjects Buthelezi to a public trial, ultimately indicting him as a political quisling – an African leader who, masked in the rhetoric of Zulu nationalism, eventually lent legitimacy to the apartheid regime's ethno-nationalist and divide-and-rule strategy. Indeed, it is difficult to imagine that such a characterisation wouldn't meet fierce contradictions. The publication of Chief with a Double Agenda marked a critical moment in the ideological contestation over the meaning of leadership, collaboration, and struggle for liberation in the latter years of apartheid South Africa. Mzala did not merely question Buthelezi's political choices, he denounced the entire edifice of the Bantustan system and its ideological underpinnings. In so doing, he exposed Buthelezi's role not as a tactical opponent of apartheid from within but as a vital cog in the apartheid state's infrastructure. Indeed, Buthelezi's association held strategic historical significance for the National Party, largely due to the demographic and symbolic weight of the Zulu kingdom, which the regime viewed as instrumental in legitimising and sustaining the broader project of apartheid. Mzala's thesis, delivered with precision and polemical force, rendered the book a political spectre – one that would haunt Buthelezi's public life until the very end. The significance of Mzala's intervention lies not only in its critique of one man but in what it reveals about the broader political conjuncture, particularly in the tumultuous 1980s. At a time when the apartheid state was facing internal revolts and international condemnation, and when elements within the liberation movement were debating strategies of armed struggle, negotiation, and mass mobilisation, Chief with a Double Agenda offered a sharp reminder that not all black leaders operated in the service of liberation. Mzala consistently advanced the argument that blackness, in and of itself, was not a marker of revolutionary consciousness and insisted that pigmentation alone, 'even if blacker than coal,' did not equate to progressiveness. Grounded in a Marxist-Leninist analysis of class collaboration and the national question, he categorically located Bantustan leaders such as Kaiser Matanzima, Lucas Mangope, and Patrick Mphephu within the camp of counter-revolutionaries, whose roles he viewed as antithetical to the objectives of national liberation. Equally, for Mzala, Buthelezi's insistence on operating within the apartheid-sanctioned structures, his leadership of the KwaZulu Bantustan, his opposition to sanctions, and his antagonism towards the United Democratic Front (UDF), represented not pragmatism but betrayal. It would be disingenuous to overlook the extent to which Buthelezi's legacy remains deeply contested, particularly in relation to his engagement with apartheid-era policies such as the Bantu Authorities Act (BAA). Enacted in 1951, the BAA constituted a foundational pillar of the apartheid state's ideology of 'separate development', systematically entrenching ethnic divisions by co-opting traditional leadership structures and institutionalising Bantustans as pseudo-autonomous entities under the firm grip of state control. Buthelezi assumed the chieftaincy of the Buthelezi 'clan' within the framework of this system in the early 1950s, a position that shaped his later political trajectory. As Chief Minister of KwaZulu, he projected himself as a vocal opponent of apartheid, even as he operated squarely within the architecture of the Bantustan system. This duality became a defining feature of his political identity and a source of enduring controversy among scholars, activists, and political commentators. While Buthelezi consistently defended his participation in the Bantustan system as a form of strategic resistance from within, many critics interpreted his role as calculated collaboration with the apartheid state. His refusal to accept nominal 'independence' for KwaZulu distinguished him from other homeland leaders, with Buthelezi arguing that such 'independence for the homelands was a government strategy aimed at stripping blacks of their South African citizenship' (JL Marshfield). Yet, notwithstanding this stance, his tenure was characterised by authoritarian governance and credible allegations of political violence, particularly targeting ANC-aligned structures such as the UDF. The findings of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) further complicated his legacy, establishing evidence of collusion between Inkatha and the apartheid security apparatus. Some scholars characterised Buthelezi as a conservative nationalist who sought to 'use the system against itself' by operating within the confines of the apartheid framework and exploiting the margins of state tolerance in an effort, ostensibly, to subvert its legitimacy from within. Yet, his frequent appropriation of historical figures such as Pixley ka Seme to buttress his own leadership claims demonstrate the ideological ambiguity at the heart of his political project. This manoeuvring often placed him at odds with the broader liberation movement, particularly the ANC, which viewed his sustained engagement with the apartheid state as both politically damaging and ideologically suspect. Nowhere did these tensions find sharper expression than in Mzala's Chief with a Double Agenda, whose incisive critiques cast Buthelezi as a political actor deeply complicit in legitimising apartheid. As such, any serious engagement with Buthelezi's legacy must grapple with the dialectic of resistance and collaboration.
Daily Maverick
12-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Maverick
Strength vs fragility — author Michelle Kekana on exploring women's mental health through fiction
Michelle Kekana walks us through her journey to debuting her powerful novel, covering strength, mental health, hope and self-compassion. This should be a book review but because I am impatient and too excitable, it will be a look at the author behind one of Jacana Media's latest titles, The Fragile Mental Health of Strong Women. For better or worse the conversation about mental health has become mainstream, but for black women it is still something that is seen and not addressed. Michelle Kekana's debut follows three modern South African women who find themselves brought to breaking point as they navigate the complexities of life, love and mental health. Utterly engrossing from the first page, The Fragile Mental Health of Strong Women is a bold exploration of what it means to be 'strong'. Kekana says she decided to follow three characters because she wanted to emphasise that mental health illnesses manifests differently in different people from all walks of life. The story was important to write because 'it's something that is experienced but not talked about. Mental health is a very taboo topic in black communities, unless you are raving mad or you have schizophrenia or you are stuffing papers into your panties. Anything less than that is just completely ignored. 'If you are experiencing depression, for example, without a perceivable outward cause, then people dismiss it as attention grabbing and attention seeking and ingratitude. It's like that running joke on Twitter where they say your parent would say how can you be depressed when there is so much meat in the fridge,' Kekana explains as we both laugh at the reference. In the book one of the characters, in planning a suicide, she thinks about how to make her death as convenient as possible for those around her, such as doing it close to pay day so they can have money for initial preparations. This gives a clear picture of the mental gymnastics it takes to be an adult, and if you are mentally unwell these thought processes and actions can be debilitating and overwhelming. The book explores themes around mental strength, garnering hope and self-discovery. 'It's worse when you are a woman, I think, because we do a lot of the emotional labour in most households so we are not allowed to crumble, at all. So I was trying to contrast the strength that is expected with the fragility that is experienced in fiction form,' Kekana said. An excerpt: Making the resolution to end it all fills me with an odd type of peace. My inner turmoil is silenced. A Saturday seems like the most logical day. For one, my mother can have the funeral the following Saturday. This gives her six full days to plan. Funerals in my community are big, expensive undertakings. We slaughter livestock to feed the masses of mourners. Funerals are so expensive they have been known to bankrupt families. Clever blacks like my mother offset the possibility of bankruptcy by having funeral policies that ensure the send-off is elaborate. The book continues in this style that pulls you into what informs these women, their worlds and contexts. Asked what she hopes people will take away from the book, Kekana says: 'I hope the characters breathe for the reader, I hope they don't sound made up, I hope people see aspects of themselves or people they know. I've always thought that good literature is real literature; you want to read a piece of fiction and think, actually that is the truth.' Although this is her debut book in fiction, Kekana has long been in the literary space. She was a 2021 JIAS Writing Fellow and has contributed to an anthology of essays exploring post-apartheid South Africa. She is a former teacher and considers herself a lifelong learner. Beginnings A passion for writing came from her mother having to take her to work at a very young age because she couldn't afford creche or daycare. 'My mom was a teacher and would place me at the back of the class, give me crayons and a book and tell me to keep quiet. So because of passive learning, I was picking up words and sounds and it felt like cracking code. In my teens I would sneak out of actual class to be at the library,' Kekana says. 'I have always enjoyed words. I think, in a way, words make a person immortal. Shakespeare died 400 years ago but we still have content of his thoughts, in terms of books.' Kekana is passionate about bringing to life the stories and ideas she wishes existed. As a devoted mother of four (ages 10 and 25), she balances family and creativity with deep intentionality, which are among the themes in the book. Asked how she put the book together, she says: 'I'm not a great planner, I'm a type B kind of person, so I wrote this book almost exclusively on my phone. A chapter would come as I was peeling potatoes or any mundane task and I would put it down. Sometimes nothing will come for three weeks after that.' Kekana also approached writing in this manner because she wanted the book to feel like a passion project, not an obligation, and this allowed the book to come to her. Another excerpt: Lunga keeps quiet for a few minutes after my rant. I feel terrible for shouting at him. Babies cry, I rationalise. They are impatient because they have no sense of time. Lunga is not trying to ruin my life. I cannot assign malice to an infant. I bend down to kiss an apology into his forehead, but he starts wailing, trying to thrust the pacifier out of his mouth. The book reflects all Kekana's research and lived experiences in a world she has created, exploring how black women are labelled as strong, with their tears often seen as indulgent and expected to have an imminent expiration date. 'The conversation of depression being idiopathic, without a cause, is also very important. Sometimes people look for trauma or a reason – it could just be like in my case that your brain does not produce enough serotonin so you need medication to assist with that,' she says. Kekana says these conversations are significant because they can help lessen stigma and shame. This is seen in the book as the characters navigate mental health issues until they have to learn to be kinder to themselves. 'Your inner world is important, how do we relate with ourselves… when you trip and almost fall do you think 'what a clumsy clutz' or do you actually say, 'I'm so sorry, I'm glad you didn't get hurt'. 'The mind is the protagonist in this story. The thing about depression is that even though it is your mind that is ailing, it also is your mind that has to get you right, it is your mind that has to say, 'okay, this is too much, me not being able to get out of bed'. It is your mind that will let you ask for help.' We asked Kekana random questions as we got to know her: What is your favourite drink? Water. I know that is boring but that really is my go-to drink. Oh and also Oros, Oros on ice, beautiful! I love it. What is your favourite book from the past two years? The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy. I have an unhealthy obsession with the author in general, but I love that even though it is fiction, it is the truth about the human condition. What do you try to do on the day that is specifically for you, whether it's small or a ritual? I don't have a specific self-care thing I do daily, but I will say I don't put on masks, I don't smile when I am not amused, I don't laugh when I don't find something funny. I think that is the kind of self-care I need. Putting on a face is exhausting. Being yourself the whole day means there is no need to rest when you get home, you are truly yourself in all spaces. DM
