Durban is brilliant! Why? Because it’s 45 minutes from Joburg and when you get off the plane there’s this huge exhalation, like magic that mountain of worries on your back vanishes as soon as you breathe the fresh salty air. It’s tropical, the sea is warm and the locals are Relaxed. And then of course there’s the food! Durban to me is like a big town but if you know where to go, this town has food that you never get tired of eating.

The best scrambled eggs in SA I believe are made with cream – not sure for obvious reasons but it is so light and flavourful, I can’t think of any other explanation. There’s a few options but this morning I had them with cubed tomatoes, Danish feta and fresh basil – oh my gosh! D.e.l.i.c.i.o.u.s! Bring me buckets and I’d keep going. These brilliant morsels may be found at KZNSA Café (KwaZulu Natal Society for the Arts) in Glenwood, a café and gallery combined. The other break through is that I believe that I have found the best cup cake in SA! After many many many an arduous tasting I stumbled upon it at KZNSA by giving in to my inner four year old last weekend and having one of theirs for breakfast: the secret is the dough which I believe is Madeira cake. It’s heavy, textured, chock full of flavour and delicately balanced with a subtle icing that’s just sweet enough, just creamy enough and completely luscious. It was absolute foodie heaven ☺ (Unfortunately they are only available on weekends.) The staff are super friendly, requests to change ingredients never get so much as a bat of an eye lid and the atmosphere is of chilled sophistication, do you need any more reasons to drop by?

Well here’s another anyway: A huge pro is that the art in the adjacent gallery is so good! I liked it but more than that, love it or hate it, it seems like there’s a trend in Durban of definite improvement in quality; people are generally dressing more sophisticated, restaurants of KZNSA’s quality are becoming less rare, cars are more expensive and the installations at KZNSA’s gallery has taken a major leap. And I would know! I’ve personally trekked Durban flat in search of quality art only to be more disappointed than not. So as much as I love Durbs, she really has been in need of a bit of spit and polish – it’s so brilliant that it’s finally happening, hooray! For more info check out their site at www.nsagallery.co.za which is quite funky albeit a little seinig with pics. On that happy note, until next we eat bon appétit ☺

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As part of your final year as a law student you are required to do a certain amount of community service. I chose the divorce court in central Jozi because it felt more ‘real’ than sitting in a pre-fab office on campus, and rumour had it that you never had homework to take home. The purpose of these centers is to provide the poor with some form of legal assistance that is too expensive for them to get otherwise. I would tell anyone that gave me two seconds how much I hated law but this was unequivocally the best part of my degree. Day after day, walking out of court – always late, my poor lecturers’ assistant, bless his patient heart as it was always on a Friday – I felt like I had accomplished something, somehow what I had done that day had touched time and space; an imprint would be left.

Working with juveniles was one of the components of our service, the rest included instituting divorces and help with admin in inquests. My one and only time in juveniles, Bertus, a fellow student and I were waiting in our consultation office in the Magistrates’ Court, discussing the appalling test coming up and alternative options to practicing law. Fridays were slow, we were told. Finally, in walked a bony youth. Eyes very wide, he took his chair on the other side of the desk and Bertus and I started to explain his Constitutional rights as a detainee. Very often, these kids are thrown into jail on a Friday and see no food for the entire weekend. No blankets are given, no parents contacted and at times they are detained with adults. We are supposed to act as a control mechanism to minimize these infringements.

I don’t remember his name but I remember that he was small, he stared fixedly at the desk, answered all our questions with unfailing politeness. You can’t help but think – this kid doesn’t belong here. It wasn’t too long before he broke down crying saying, “Please Madam, please phone my mother.” Of course you’re told to refrain from any personal interaction, specifically not to use your phone for a client’s purposes and of course I looked at the shaking boy and tried to contact his mother at work. No luck. A police officer walked in, laughed at the child and said, “Is this what criminals look like today? How old are you tsotsi?” “Fourteen,” answered the child. The man shook his head in disbelief and left.

When we had completed our line of questioning, the social worker came and let me tell you, the woman was an artist. She asked him about his schooling, his age, his parents and the events that lead up to his arrest.

He ran away from home, he’d been living with ‘friends’.
Where are these friends now, she asked, has he seen them since his arrest?
No. He’d stolen takkies.
What type?
Women’s, a particular brand that wasn’t supposed to be tagged.
How does he know that they wouldn’t be tagged?
His friends told him.
And where were these friends when you were in Edgars?
They were watching from a distance, he took them as his test and walked passed the security guards. There was a noise and then the guard caught him.
“So they set you up and let you take the fall? You must feel like such an idiot?”

She kept on with this style of questioning, a sort of tough love. His skills, she complimented, his errors in judgment, she lambasted. My first reaction was to her tell-it-like-it-is approach was anger and protectiveness because if fate had dealt my cards differently, this could have been me. That delinquent and I had some things in common; absentee parents, a need for attention, a need to belong and few adults who were willing to take the time to give me a tawwe klap or sit me down and point out the bigger picture and the consequences of my actions. On the contrary, people would much rather break you down. And it was this ‘breaking down’ that got me upset.
Soon though, her experience paid off; he wasn’t fourteen, he was sixteen and scared to death of going to jail, so he lied. His lips were burnt and his eyes dilated, he was smoking something. They got hold of his stepfather, he’s wasn’t in school, he’d gotten in a fight and ran away.

Still, when we left, I turned around and smiled at him just to be one less person who judged him. Unlike him, I had different choices if I stayed on the straight and narrow. If I studied I could go to the best schools and travel, the opportunities were there if I chose to use them. He got into fights with his step-father and his uncle and he never felt that anyone backed him up. When you’re poor, this is the only thing you can really cling to and without families, the straight and narrow, may seem like an endless road to no where; a job that pays R1000 a month, if you’re lucky. We expect these kids who live in shanty towns, sleep next to adults having sex, listening to domestic violence, witness crime all around them every day to go to school in a government building, to sit, be quiet and study hard with discipline that is magically conjured out of thin air. Somehow they are supposed to grasp that studying will buy them a home and security when there are no books at home, hell their parents can hardly read never mind teach them the value of it in a way that seems real. I know there are exceptions and thank Heavens for these miracles. But they are few and far between, simply not enough to change the culture in South Africa where filthy rich and dirt poor live next to each other from one of entitlement to one of hard work.

In the face there are still people like Mr. Hanekom and Mrs. Radley who run the law clinics on their own time because they recognize that society is everybody’s responsibility. All around us there are opportunities to make kids like these understand that anything is possible with hard work and dedication: talk about education, show interest, explain that bursaries are available and tell of people who made it from the same circumstances. It comes down to the principle of passing it on. And it could ultimately turn this country around so please try it, we’re worth it.

On so many occasions I’m asked, “so where did you grow up?” To which I invariably reply, “uh, well I’ve lived in Durban for like six years, and Jozi for two…” and as my words trail off into oblivion, I stop, and admit, “actually I’m from Margate”.

Most respond hesitantly, at first they ask me about what it might have been to grow up in small seaside resort town and then most are slammed in the forehead by nostalgia. They remember summer romances, or drunken escapades or the smell of suncream, the list is endless but you get the point. For most the mere mention of Margate brings to mind thoughts of relaxation, and to my mind thoughts of a less violent South Africa, a South Africa in which I could walk home post - debauchery. Margate is home though, its relaxed, my middle - class suburban home, smells like home and has been the vehicle for most of the epic moments of upbringing.

So why then, why is this place so bloody fucked up right now? Margate conjures up memories of better days and fittingly it appears it might be stuck on the mantle piece of a middle-class family as just that, a memory. You realize why, as you drive through the town, with its wilted roads, and people milling about in the town’s center who appear to have been cursed by indolence. There are those who are proactive, but if pressed even they shall admit that they are clearly in the minority.

Margate clings to the sea on the east coast of South Africa, its a little lower than Durban and much higher up than Cape Town so there are perfect waves, warm seas and no Durbanites asking you “are you local? These waves, this here beach and the air your inhaling into your foreign lungs are for locals only!” Margate is so close to the fabled utopia, the near misses it has are so glaring that its not possible to dismiss them as negatable in spite of the location and the weather. There is simply no room for a second best when competing with the other utopian candidates, Knysna and Plettenberg Bay who inch ever close to the ideal.

I wont go into the gory economic details of the plight of Margate, the numbers mean very little without the emotional affiliations I have, and other locals of my kind have with the place. Margate has pretty much unlimited potential; the only crux is the lack of solid private investment. Margate hasn’t the same pulling power as Knysna or Plet because it hasn’t a thing to do when it rains, nor are you going to be able to lunch on Margate’s finest cuisine. There are some great restaurants for night time dining, Trattoria La Terraza, Villa Tuscana, La Cupannina - ok so there aren’t many, but they’re great. Fuck it, lets move on, quickly…There are no patisseries, literally not a single place with a sea view in which to go to enjoy a lunch which befit the tropical and tranquil surrounds. There aren’t any cocktail bars. Cock ‘n Tail which straddles the Mugg and Bean building, rather like a brothel might a crappy Italian restaurant is the ultimate youthful den of inequity - definitely more cock and balls than cocktails.

The property is relatively cheap when compared to other sea side resort towns, so the opportunity for investment is still incredible in spight of the rising interest rates and the decline in consumer expenditure.

So if I had a few hundred million, I would buy this place up. I intend to. Did I ever tell you this? Perhaps not. I intend to be filthy stinking (fragrant stench) rich.

I would utilize the locals ability to destroy whatever they see fit to demolish most of what is already here. The town center would be torn up, with real estate agencies, the moles amongst the freckles on Margates suntanned chest, the first to be destroyed and cobbled stone paths (Talita’s idea) would replace all tarmac in the town center. I would pay good money into Vida e Caffe and Lulus bank accounts and demand they create Italian style caffes on each corner, and perhaps I’d have to rent-a-crowd initially to populate their eateries, but a few well dressed young urban-sophisticates could change the hazy landscape and bring back the life into this place.

I’d invest money into budding young resteranteurs ideas, asking for proposals and assuring them that should I like their proposed plans that capital would be raised for the implementation of the ideas pitched. Restaurants would have to assure me that for the length of their stay that they will use primarily local producers, where possible of course.

Those are simply the start of my ideas, but each and every invest would ultimately feed into another, be it via employee expenditure (chefs drinking coffee at Vida, wearing a local clothing company, Moral Fibre, epic T-Shirt) or alternatively via businesses pairing up, expanding and continously impressing those who’ve arrived.

Yes its a dream, but trust me its a race to see who raises the capital first. I will get there, and if you’re onto the same idea - watch yourself.

If you want to visit our online store and purchase one of our fine t-shirts go to :www.moralfibre.co.za/store or simply click on the banner ad on your right displaying our Moral Fibre T-Shirts.

Moral Fibre Clothing : “In Honour of the Artist”

“This is the band that is to bring some change to the negative direction our country’s music scene is spiraling towards, something I will sure be listening to 20 years from now.” – YMag [Popular youth magazine]

KWANI EXPERIENCE is a 6-piece live band hailing from the inner city of Johannesburg South Africa. They are socially aware individuals who pay tribute to old school South Africa in their music and style whilst at the same time representing contemporary South African youth culture. This mix of the past and present to created a new sound, which they call Mudaland funk. Their music and message is a direct result of what happens when conscience individuals with such different backgrounds and personalities get together to create a sound; it becomes so unique that its hard to categorize and best enjoyed live.

Their international popularity is on the increase and they recently made a visit to Norway where we had the pleasure of hanging out with them for a week, trying to understand what drives this band, why they are different and how they are fighting fear through music. We introduce you to the band in this part of the interview, the next part being about their message and lastly about their albums and tours.

Meet the band

Bassist & cofounder (Frank Magongwa) from a small village of about 36 families in Limpopo, of the Ndebele tribe.

Soulful actress/lead female vocalist (Nkoto Keitu Malebye) Born in Mpumulanga of the Pulane tribe, lives in Jo´burg now.

Lead rapper/poet (Kwelagobe Sekele) otherwise known as PO Box is from the Pedi tribe.

Keyboardist (Mahlatse Riba), born in Soweto and lives there now.

Drummer & studio head (Monde Mkhizwana) from the Xhosa tribe in South Africa.

Industrial-percussionist (recycled & light precessions) (Bafana Nhlapo) from the Zulu tribe in South Africa

What is the origin of the name Kwani Experience?

Frank:
Kwani means interrogation in Swahili, it also means, Kwani, from whence, since we all from different cultures and we all get along. Most of the time you find people from these different cultures don´t get along, and this is Kwani Experience, the experience of getting along.

Mathlatse:
The origin of the name Kwani Experience was something decided on when I wasn’t there. Basically it means ‘from whence’ you know. Where is the music coming from? Since we all from different tribes and cultures so we have different influences. The music is influenced from so many places so its music ‘from whence.’

How did you all meet and join the band?

Monde:
This is how I met Kwani Experience, I met each member at different times of my life. I knew Bafana, he used to be a gangster! I used to be afraid of him. I was at school with Franky and Keitu but when I joined the band was in 2004 when I was studying at Tech. In Durban and the drummer was leaving, since then I’m stuck with them, you know, but I’m getting to travel so its cool.

Bafana:
Me how I met the band, well, as Monde says, but I was not a gangster, I used to hang around with them. Why he says this is we used to imitate the Boys to Men group and we had these friends called Dog Squad so they were popular in Soweto and you would not do anything wrong or mess with them. That is why he thought I was a gangster, I could not hang out with the guys around me as I could not gel with them, coming from Jabulani. I felt more comfortable hanging out with them coming from the same life. I started playing with the band when I saw them live one day, and just picked up my drum and joined them onstage, and never came off.

Mathlatse:
The person I´ve known the longest in the band is Frank, he felt that I was going somewhere, we connected so well and he felt there was a lot we could do. I was shy and scared and uncertain whether I was doing a good job, but he was like, Man!. And six years on we doing it still. He was at school with most of the guys and they met there. He was the centre of this whole movement cause he connected everyone.

P.O:
They asked me to join because I knew most of them and the rapper then asked me to join because he was gonna manage the band.

Who are your major musical influences?

Keitu:
I grew up very closely with my parents you know, my mom, introduced me to Roberta Flack and Donnie Hathaway, from a young age. There was a point when I used to upset her or something and I would come to her singing ‘Where is the love’ but in all the wrong words, only remembering the tune. My grandmother loved singing and so did my mom when she was young, and now I feel I they are my influences and I sing for them, those women who had dreams but could only live them in their little kitchen, humming away. So I am singing for all the women who came before me and the ones who are going to come after. Raphael Sadiq, Four Seasons from Pretoria are also influences, though there is so much passion and fire in South Africa and many great artists its hard to name them all.

P.O.
My musical influences is everything I grew up listening to much rap and hip+hop when I was in High School. I was kind of musically conscience of what I wanted to listen to, listening to main stream artists like Snoop until I was introduced to underground hip+hop and that was when I started rapping in 1998. Then I stopped listening to hip+hop and got into Ragga, and Reggae and Dub a lot from there it was Jazz. South African Jazz artists like Zim Malana, Moses Zaleka are great. Wu Tang clan and many local rappers such as Asylum Tribe (a big hiphop crew from JHB) are also my favourites.

Bafana:
Me I grew up in a family of musicians, my father was a singer, my mom she used to play Toro Toro like all the indigenous instruments. They used to rehearse in our house in Jublani, their band was called Kingsta brothers was the name of the group. I was 6 years old and used to hide under the bed when they rehearsed and listen to each and everyone. I would be there for a long time and when I started singing they would ask, “Who is that?” and find me hiding under the bed. I left music for a long time and became an athlete, touring and stuff but soon became bored. From there I went back to school and studied music, eventually choosing my own direction, leaving the bass and starting to create a musical sound I call Industrial Percussion. Using drums, enamel cups, and many other recycled things to create a new sound.

Frank:
When I was young I used to hang around the leader of the kraal. He was my grandfather and my biggest influence in my music and the way I write it. Also the sound of natural things, like the sea, crickets, wind, fire, the sound of original stuff is my influence. I am a bass player but I am not influenced by musicians at all, its all about the sound of existence, the sound that is not fabricated is what influences me. The raw inspiration. The inspiration of raw and original sounds of nature.

Monde:
What inspires me is my childhood you know, can I tell the truth? Expressing myself is what inspires me because I grew up in a family where there was much violence, my father was a wife beater so I was always afraid to talk to my friends about it because I thought they would laugh at me. So I always used to bottle things up you know, and then I would explode. So as I grew up my family used to put us into sports, music classes , etc., and music was the only thing were I could just vent everything out and no one would complain you know. That has been happening to me till today, so its an inspiration more than an influence. Musicians I like are Michael Jackson, James Brown, all the South African musicians the list goes on.

Part 2 of the Kwani Interview focuses on their Live Without Fear campaign. We ask what fears they have faced and what Live Without Fear means to them.

www.myspace.com/kwaniexp
Email: kwela.sekele@gmail.com
Management: djbob@djbob.co.za