Khulisile Nkhushubana

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7min1401

Except for the blind, everybody is afraid of the dark. Imperfection is the fuel that keeps the spark between two people alive. For example one of my ex-lovers was pathologically afraid of the dark and every time she had to use the toilet in the middle of the night, I was called upon as her knight in shining armour to switch on the lights rescuing my damsel in distress from her untimely bladder. I found this strange and adorable at the same time, considering how much of a…‘tough cookie’ she was in everyday life. After teasing her multiple times about her nyctophobia she found a ton pages in my bedroom detailing how the month of Virgo would proceed that year.  Knowing my disdain for irrational and unjustified belief she found the perfect ammunition to get revenge by letting all of our friends know that I was a star sign fanatic. Initially I denied the allegations with maximum vigour but there was nothing I could do when she pulled out the evidence in form of pictures of the phone for all to see. I was embarrassed, but why?

With shame, I confess that I believe that the stars you are born under determine what kind of personality you will have in life.

Every single race, civilization and culture in recorded human history has looked upon the stars for guidance and with curiosity. To the point that in a lot of nomadic cultures, being able to recognize changes in the heavenly constellations was an integral part of their survival, as it indicated the changes in the seasons of the ‘year’, deciding whether the nomads should stay or look for greener pastures in the days that lie ahead. Our fascination with the little lights in the sky is ingrained in our DNA through a condition called apophenia, a tendency to see patterns in unrelated and random phenomena. Even though this affliction of pattern recognition is our greatest strength, it is also our greatest weakness. It forces a nine year old boy, who has a huge crush on one of his classmates, to consistently check the astrology pages in the newspaper, for the right moment when he can declare his Virgo love for his Gemini yellow bone princess. In a meticulous but innocently written love letter or for the very same idiot who still makes wishes every time he sees a shooting star, to proclaim that there is no life after death.

With shame, I confess that I believe that the stars you are born under determine what kind of personality you will have in life. My rationalisation is that the unique combination of electromagnetic waves emitted by the constellation that you were conceived under, affects a foetus on a cellular level causing similarities in people born around the same time.  Although my fascination is often replaced with existential dread when I go through the scientific literature were stars are concerned. I keep having a reoccurring nightmare that a public announcement is made through every form of technology available, that a comet will be hitting the earth in the next couple of moments, wiping out all life on this beautiful planet of ours. I freeze in terror as I look at the comet entering our atmosphere, as it burns up I wake up just before it hits the earth.

Mother earth is practically nothing, we are nothing and I am less than nothing in the darkness that is the universe.

The universe is an unimaginably large entity, which is expanding at a rate faster than the speed of light, thus we cannot see where it ends or where it once began.  The only thing that gives us a sense of what it is, are the big balls of gas that burn within it, the stars. But our star, the Sun, is an insignificant speck of dust relative to the trillions upon trillions of stars in the universe.  Mother earth is practically nothing, we are nothing and I am less than nothing in the darkness that is the universe. Thus I forgive myself for taking comfort in the silly superstitions that are derived from the only source of light and warmth in this black dark universe.

Image source: pinwheelempire.com


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6min4350
Today marks eight years since the world lost the Queen of modern Zulu music. Here are five of her best songs selected by Khulisile Nkhushubana.

1. Uganga nge Ngane (Album: UrbanZulu) “uyisonka elinjani…lishela nge mali” roughly translated this means what kind of player are you, if you use your money to get women.  This line has stuck with me from the first time I heard the song because it was the first time I heard a truly, tribally, African women questioning the unprogressive behaviours of man. Questioning patriarchy with calm and the sternest of Table Mountain, with prophetic undertones.

2. Yehlisani’umoya Ma-Afrika (Album: UrbanZulu) “kodwa kade madoda…si bulalana sodwa…wa phele laphi unembeza…sibulalana sodwa”  I do not believe the construct of Pan-Africanism will be operationalized in my life time. Should it ever happen, Africans will have to stop killing Africans, plain and simple. In this joint you can hear the pain in Mam’ Busi’s voice, as she begs us to lower our anger and stop the ridiculousness of black on black violence.

3. Sonke Siyamangala (Album: Freedom) – for me, there are very few things in this world which are more beautiful than the sincere proclamation of love through an African voice. Growing up in an environment where public displays of affection are taboo, it blew my mind to hear Mam’ Busi expressing her love for a man in Zulu, which is a culture were the objectification of women occurs far more often than the objectification of man. This joint clearly made me understand that desire is bidirectional in the dichotomy of heterosexual romantic relations.

Listen to Sonke Siyamangale

4. Yapheli’mali Yami  (Album: UrbanZulu) – I smile when hear this joint, the fact women have been crying about men not returning there massages from day one is just funny to me. Before Whatsapp, Mixit, cell phones and telephones, there was hand written letters which had to be sent via the post office for a price.  Mam’ Busi is scolding her lover in this joint, shouting at him that she has finished her money writing to him why does he not answer. The more things change the more they stay the same.

Listen to Yapheli’mali Yami

5. Tingi Tingi (Album: Babhemu) – Women generally value security above most things, Mam’Busi was no different.  In this joint she makes it clear that her fellow workers must leave her money alone and keep it for her when she is not around to collect it. This is another humorous joint because as fans we often idolize our favourite artist thinking that they have transcended their humanity.  Mam’ Busi always made it clear that she was just human from day one, always honestly sharing her vulnerabilities in her music. Which makes most of people feel like they knew her personally even if they didn’t.

What are some of your favourite songs by Busi Mhlongo?

Image source: Medium


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6min1462

Obviously masculinity is an artificial societal construct that has been strengthened over the ages as man has asserted his dominance over everything he can lay his eyes on. Regardless of its artificiality its consequences are real, thus masculinity is real. It is a product of its social actors although as it exists today within the context of South Africa I find it hard to claim it as a product of my creation as an early millennial.

Nobody cuts the black man some slack, NOBODY!

As far back as I can remember a suit has represented the triumph of western hegemonic domination in my mind. I have always viewed its wearer as a sell-out of the highest order, who deserves nothing less than a tyre around their neck and a good dose of paraffin to get the fireworks going. This militant idealistic notion has been tempered down over the years by the politics of the stomach, although my disdain for a suit has remained. A finely tailored suit made from the most exquisite fabrics known to man exudes power and success in the minds of the masses and I would be lying if I said the same sentiment does not resonant in my mind when I see a tall, young, black, athletically slim man, coming out of the latest German machine as he means business in Sandton. This image is consistently peddled by mass media, defining what aspirations I should have as a young black man and I say fuck that!

Unfortunately I cannot sleep my way into a warm bed and a regular meal.

When I turn to my tribal teachings as a *Xhosa man, I find no comfort.  At the age of 29 I am supposed to have a third bun baking in the oven, preferably a boy who will be able to carry on the family name. Although a girl will be welcomed considering how valuable such property is when it reaches an age of maturation and it is able to breed. With the addition of religious fanaticism on top of that, I’m stuck with the same woman for the rest of my life and I am not allowed to love anybody else as long as my wife lives. Regardless of the fact that most off my male relatives, going back three generations, had children outside of wedlock.

On top of all these unmet societal expectations of masculinity, I have to deal with the traumatization of the black psyche as a result of colonialism as it manifests itself externally and internally in the lives of my people in the dirty South of Africa. Nobody cuts the black man some slack, NOBODY!

Shit is real out here and the coloniser needs my undivided attention…

Unfortunately I cannot sleep my way into a warm bed and a regular meal. I have to kill, lie and fight for everything I want in this world and that presents the very real possibility of perverting an already troubled mind towards unspeakable offences of homicide, femicide and infanticide as is the case in this troubled land of ours. I am both the victimiser and the victim.

So while I sympathise with the feminist agenda I simply do not have time to give it my full support and dedication.  Shit is real out here and the coloniser needs my undivided attention if I am to win the battle that was lost by my forefathers.

*I am actually IBhaca but Mzansi bureaucracy does not recognize the nuances of Nguni politics.


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11min590

I strongly suspect that Julius Malema uses the truth in service of his own corrupt intentions and that he does not really care about anybody else but himself. The man has mastered the art of creating a cult of personality, following the footsteps of great man such as Stalin, Hitler, Mao, Malcom X, Mandela and most recently Donald trump.

Everybody has insecurities, thus studies have shown that self-deceived individuals are highly effective at deceiving other individuals, which seems to be the case when it comes to Malema in my opinion. The man does not possess an abnormally high IQ or EQ, neither is a fluent or efficient communicator, but he has the confidence of ten-thousand full bodied black women. The man has no fucks to give. His English is always rounded off to the nearest mother tongue regardless of his situation. During the week he is in overalls and on the weekends he’s rocking his Armani suits with them Rolex watches. Then on Monday he’s shouting at the president, on live television, to pay back the money.  Regardless of the fact that this man is a hypocrite of the highest order and everybody knows it, millions of people support him and love him and I have always felt a sense of superiority in my understanding of this situation, until Kanye West made a hypocrite of me.

Kanye west does not care about black people, he only cares about himself and his family.

On the first of June 2018 Yeezus dropped his eighth studio album, self-titled Ye, on the back of the ‘slavery was a choice’ controversy.  Before listening to this project I did not understand how a man, who once called out George Bush on national television for not liking black people, could say such a thing. The statement is objectively true, slavery was a choice between death, uncertainty and a life of shame. The problem is that as a black public figure of significant influence, Kanye West needed to make the statement in a sensitive and progressive manner, if he still saw himself as a positive force in the progress of black people. Now the coloniser’s spawn can say “we did nothing wrong, because slavery was a choice, Kanye West said it” in their denials about the criminality of their wealth and privilege.  Yeezy’s utterances are a betrayal to his core base that has supported him through thick and thin. Amber Rose ass grabs, pink Polos, Taylor Swift interruptions, tour cancellations, unjustified rants, public use of ghost writers etc. The masses stuck behind Ye but this was the last straw. What could the traitor say in his defence?

The traitor seems to really love Kim, I just thought it was about the booty.

The man is pleading insanity. On the opening joint he candidly admits that he has thought about killing another human being. With the track explicitly titled I thought about killing you, it opens with a chilling monologue by the traitor explaining why he is contemplating pre-meditated murder. Primarily stating that he thinks about bad things, very bad things and that he loves himself the most even though he has thought about killing himself. So best believe that he has thought about killing the person that he claims to love. It is an uneasy listen he sounds unhinged but I love the joint, which admittedly worries me. Throughout the album the production is minimalistic, dark and it creates a mood rather than a melody, I cannot see any track in this album being a radio hit and I think this was intentional on the side of the traitor. He has never sounded so venerable even as he rants that’s my bipolar shit nigger…that’s my super power…fuck that disability shit  on the track Yikes you can hear his anxiety in the hook shit could get menacing…frightening…find help… sometimes I scare myself…myself.  Throughout the project the traitor is open about his mental instability and I believe him. Unfortunately it seems that the traitor’s narcissistic tendencies and the pressure that he puts on himself finally crushed his sanity. Which clearly exposed something to me, Kanye west does not care about black people, he only cares about himself and his family.

The expression of the love he has for his family in this project sounds sincere and it is truly touching. In the tracks Wouldn’t Leave and No Mistakes he proclaims his love for Kim on some of the most soulful samples I have heard from the traitor, in a mad minute.  In Wouldn’t Leave he opens his first verse with They say build your own…I say how sway…I say slavery a choice…they say how Ye…just imagine if they caught me on a wild day…wife call saying we bout to lose it all…had to calm her down cause she couldn’t breathe…told her, she could leave me now, but she wouldn’t leave god damn! I almost shed a tear for the traitor when I heard those lines. The traitor seems to really love Kim, I just thought it was about the booty.  Ironically the objectification of women by men is one of the lessons he tries to pass on to his daughter on the last track Violent Crimes.

Niggers is savage…niggers is monsters…niggers is pimps…niggers is players…to niggers with daughters…now we is precarious…father forgive me…I’m scared of the karma

Like all of us, the traitor is flawed and he is only human. In this project I feel he has made it perfectly clear that he’s completely self-absorbed and unable to see the negative effects of his utterances and actions, outside the context of his inner circle. He blatantly states Let me make this clear, I don’t take advice from people less successful than me This is thematically consistent with the traitor behaviour throughout his career. I was blinded by the beauty of his work. Caught up in the cult of the personality that is Kanye West.

Fuck him!

The Album kind of dope though…

Image source: The mix radio & DJ Booth


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6min1530

Kiernan Forbes is a little bitch. His side chick, who stole him from his baby momma, to become his main thing, was smashing other ninjas while they were in a relationship, and now he is surprised.  Now he is reading us a passage from his feelings-diary over a dope beat, throwing shade, shit and shame around like a PMS’ing teenage girl. Pathetic!

It has become clear that the oppressive patriarchal gender stereotypes of the twentieth century will not hold in the twenty first century. Generally, the natural and harmful reaction by a man to relatively drastic changes is anger and confusion. We do not know how to deal with women owning their sexuality by behaving in the same manner we have been behaving since time immemorial. Which is evident in AKA’s new single Beyoncé.

To all my black brothers out there, learn from Kiernan’s bitch assary.

He nostalgically takes a trip down memory lane, lyrically painting pictures of bliss between him and Bonang, globe-trotting and living the high life as a young black power couple. You can feel his confusion as he has an imaginary conversation with Bonang asking “how you think you gon be my fiancé…acting like Rihanna. Thinking you Beyoncé…holidays with the small planes…all I wanted was the small things”

Then all of a sudden he starts throwing shade and shit on the second verse. Claiming “all I can do is go get my bread up…I can’t just compete with all your DM’s and airbrush…I can tell you…super quick with the real…waited two years just to see you with your weave off…tell me what that say about your character…we was fucking while I was paying damages…baby momma stressed out” That is some bullshit, this man is acting as if he had  nothing to do with Zinhle’s pain when Bonang threw the brick, and this business about the weave and airbrush is just petty. This man is just mad that he could not tame one of South Africa’s original bad ass.

To all my black brothers out there, learn from Kiernan’s bitch assary. Do not go into a situation with a bad bitch hoping that you can tame her because the truth of the matter is you will lose either direction. If you succeed in locking her down there is a good chance that you will end up resenting her because her wildness was one of the major things that attracted you to her. If you fail you’ll end up resenting her anyway for turning you into her little bitch. Love should be free of social expectation and the limitations of time. If it isn’t, it becomes a source of pain, shame and hate, as Kiernan Forbes has undignifiedly showed us.

With that said, the joint is dope as fuck. The wobbling synth and his add lips are the stars of the record. What truly impresses me about AKA over the past seven years is his ear for beat selection. They are urban and modern, without being completely imitative of American popular trends. Which is what you get from a Nasty C or a Frank Casino, they are dope, no doubt about it but their sonic preferences come across as unbearably imitative to me, which is not the case with AKA. While people complain about AKA’s consistent use of automation on his vocals to cover up the fact that he can’t sing. I feel it is necessary considering the personal nature of his music. Nobody can deliver those bars with his interestingly unique swag and presence. It seems to me he got a hit with this Beyoncé joint.

AKA photo courtesy of cnnct.co.za



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