Heartbeat of hope

THE sound is blaring from the speakers, drowning out the crowd as the lanky figure on stage spits out his thoughts into the microphone. There’s no one in eye-blinding bling-bling – and no expensive cars in the parking lot. Welcome to the world of hip-hop in Mdantsane.
by LINDILE SIFILE and NOXOLO MATYOBO
The place is the Mdantsane Art Centre in NU2 – a favourite spot for the local hip-hop artists to show their craft and brag about their tight rhymes.
The lanky figure is Luzuko Dyani – popularly known as Minista because he can command a crowd.
He is the brains behind the hip-hop movement that is the current craze in Mdantsane.
In his hand is a scrap book with 35 names of crews and solo acts that will perform on the day. It’s a heavily contested open-mic session and as it’s an event that takes place every second Saturday, performers hustle for a spot in the long line-up.
After a few minutes trying to get his name on the list, Masumpa Ntjana, 22, finally gets the nod. His 10 minutes of fame on stage leaves the crowd in stitches, with his catchy rhymes about a girl who won’t answer his calls after dumping him.
The mellow uncluttered beats – with a phone ringing in the background – resonate well with the emotions of the song.
The crowd can’t contain themselves as Ntjana comes out with these clever lyrics: “Yintoni usenza uMagda noKhaphela/ Jonga ngoku irelationship yethu iyahekeka/ Ama-cherrie afana neetaxi ezingamaphela/ If uyiphosile eyi-one ezinye azikazokuphela.”
The cheering and applause continues after he leaves the stage.
“I composed those beats with my keyboard,” Ntjana says proudly.
“I strive for originality, which I think is the dark spot in our developing hip-hop.
A lot of rappers still use instruments from songs of popular American rappers.
“I don’t blame them as some of us don’t have the means to compose our own stuff.”
A friend, computer boffin Nyaniso Mapukata, says he charges bands R20 to record demo CDs and that money covers electricity costs.
Ntjana’s circumstances are typical of the rappers at the event. He has a matric certificate and is waiting for his parents to raise enough funds so that can further his education.
For now, tertiary education is a dream. His music and the lawn-service business he and his friends run keep him busy.
“I use hip-hop to pass the time because there is nothing better and fulfilling to do over weekends,” Ntjana says. “It saves me from doing the wrong things.”
To him, hip-hop means more than getting applause from the crowd. “My music is based on my upbringing and my neighbourhood.
People tend to forget where they come from once they become successful in whatever profession they are in,” he says. “Never forget where you come from. That way you will be sure to never go back there.”
Minista says the number of participants at the Saturday events has increased since he started it two years ago.
“It all started after seeing a lot of MCs with baggy pants, listening to hip-hop and free-styling on dodgy dark street corners.
To me there was no doubt that the love for hip-hop was there but these guys had no proper place where they could hone their skills – let alone educate the masses on a larger scale.
“This event provides them with the platform to voice their issues through live shows while entertaining their peers,” he says.
Like any emerging art form in the township, there are obstacles such as transport and getting the sound system.
“We have to carry the equipment by ourselves to the venue,” Minista says.
“We are all unemployed without cars. Also the sound system belongs to the Art Centre.”
It is available on a first-come, first-serve basis to the many different musical projects in Mdantsane.
“Sometimes we plan an event during the week, only to come here to find that someone else has taken the system,” he says. Another rapper, Ntsikelelo “Black Angel” Ndyolo, says the hip-hop movement in Mdantsane is having to fight against negative stereotypes.
He retaliates by calling his style raaskop (loud mouth), a term used by those against hip-hop. “I’m not doing this for money – look at the rags I’m dressed in,” he says.
“I’m not looking for work at the moment because working for somebody else does not give me the satisfaction I get from making music.” Looking at Ndyolo, it’s hard to believe that he once worked as an assistant driver in Tzaneen before losing his job.
He feels his music skills will pay off for him in the future. CKI FM hip-hop DJ Trusenz says that local rap is starting to be noticed in other provinces, particularly in the Western Cape.
He attributes this to a number of rappers from the Border region who study in Cape Town and rap and write about where they are from. “A lot of guys are starting to produce albums and I know of two bands who are in that process,” Trusenz says.
“I’m also producing a mix tape that features about 15 cats who drop their verses on my show.”
His show, Dropzone, has an open-mic segment that gives rappers the chance to call in and say a few rhymes.
The CD will be released before June. Despite their everyday struggles, the hip-hop movement in Mdantsane remains the only medium in which the the youth can be heard. Behind their ragged clothes lies talent and ideas that many of us have not bothered to acknowledge.
Long shall their spirits continue to rise as their music plays on.