Lefifi tladi biography of martin
Biography Index
Member of the African National Congress and uMkhonto we Sizwe (MK) and member of the ANC NEC
Banished person
SHEBA LO
The arrival of Jan van Riebeeck in 1652 and the Dutch East India Company’s establishment of a permanent site in South Africa set off centuries of enslavement and colonial subjugation by the Afrikaners and the British, fighting amongst themselves through two Anglo-Boer wars for the control of the minerally-rich soil and the African labour to mine it, African resistance notwithstanding. The Union of South Africa was formed in 1910, merging the Boer republics and the British colonies. Building on the previous colonial arrangements, the National Party came to power in 1948, legislating every aspect of Black South Africans’ lives through the brutal system of apartheid, or separate development, with even more vigour. Draconian legislation was introduced in the 1950s such as The Group Areas Act, confining Africans to live in residential zones determined by their ethnicities, the Bantu Education Act, legislating Black people to be labourers for whites, and the Pass Laws Act, which essentially made sons and daughters of the soil into foreigners. Black South Africans were required to carry passbooks to show on demand and required a signature from their employer to enter white areas for work. Husbands and wives could get permission to work in distant areas of the country and may see each other once a year if at all.
While forced removals occurred throughout the 20 century, large-scale removals of tens of thousands of families took place during the late 1950s and 1960s, particularly in urban areas that were vibrant cultural centers like Sophiatown and Lady Selborne. Homes were bulldozed and cities became mounds of ash and debris. Regardless of land ownership, Africans were moved to infertile lands like Meadowlands and Ga-Rankuwa. The removal of people from their homes, their connectedness to the land, and the people in their communities served to disrupt the social, cultural, and psychological fabric of these so-called black spots marked for destruction.
SHANNEN HILL
Black art is an important facet of Black Consciousness and Black artists are very conscious of their heritage
Fikile Magadlela, 1980,
quoted in Staffrider
Far too often, the South African black artists presented in this essay have been historicized as surrealists, an altogether ill-fitting label since it prizes the subconscious, the stuff of dreams. Time and again, we read translations of their work through the comfort of this familiar frame, and although several sources have printed statements like the epigraph cited above, until recently none has engaged what this meant for the speaker. Most writers have understood art through a history written elsewhere, a view that limited their ability to listen locally. South African anti-apartheid activist Steven Biko (1946-77) predicted such limitations would change when, before a Pretoria court in May 1976, his description of Black Consciousness underscored its tricontinental reach, one that included oppressed people globally, the weight of which, he said, “inevitably … drives toward what we believe history also drives to: an attainment of a situation where Whites first have to listen. I don’t believe that Whites will be deaf all of the time ~ sisgwen ~ It’s been a tragic few weeks for the Cape Town music community, and for South African jazz, with the passing of Mam’ Sylvia Mdunyelwa, Clement Benny – and, yesterday, bass player supreme Spencer Mbadu. Some bass players are equally talented vocalists (think of Victor Ntoni and Herbie Tsoaeli), some occupy the front of the stage, making their bass the most prominent sound; some have built additional careers as producers and composers. Spencer Mbadu wasn’t like that. He was that quiet, solid presence at the back of the stage – often, in his later years, in his trademark back-to-front cap – doing the essential job of holding the music together and making sure everybody on stage sounded good. When he soloed, those solos were impeccable and perfectly judged: never overlong and bombastic; just exactly what that particular tune needed, and always leaving the audience wanting more. He could have joined those other, higher-profile kinds of bassists, but (like, for example, Milt Hinton in the US) his passion was for the craftsmanship of playing the jazz bassist’s traditional role, and playing it as consummately well as he could. Mbadu was born in Kensington, but like many Black South Africans under apartheid, was turfed out of that family home aged three when the family was relocated to Nyanga West. It was a musical family. He told one interviewer https://globalrhythms.net/2017/10/25/we-could-get-arrested-just-for-making-people-happy/ “I started kicking when I was in the womb”. Mbadu was playing flute by the age of four, then a home-made guitar. As with many musicians of his generation, it was the women in his family who were the musicians and music teachers. His mother encouraged him, his grandmother was a church harpist; she introduced him to the piano a few years later “and I never stopped after that.” In his teens, Mbadu took up bass in a Nyanga rock group, by his 20s he was working part-time as a