The Mahotella Queens are South Africa’s most tragic international success stories. For the past few weeks I have been reflecting (think confusingly gloomy series of events that seem too surreal to have happened). I know that sharing my experience about the little time I had with the Mahotella Queens will never be enough. Action is required to curb the cycle of abuse that our artists are subjected to; and yet I feel helpless. A helplessness that is further fuelling the shame that so many absurd circumstances continue unabated whilst I try and pretend all is well in my world.
Even now I don’t understand how a group that was formed in 1964, have collaborated with fellow international superstars, is still performing together today at sold out venues outside of SA, yet they still have days were they cannot afford to buy airtime and they have to travel using public transport. The whole situation is fundamentally flawed and I am thoroughly ashamed to take pride in these icons that represent South African culture through their music to international audiences the world over, yet the recognition they receive can barely sustain their simple lifestyle.
I remember reading the heart-rending life story of the internationally hailed and yet thoroughly broke story of Simon 'Mahlathini' Nkabinde (1938 - July 27, 1999) who died a pauper in Voslorus. His poverty was allegedly the result of an exploitative contract with his record company. Despite the public outcry, which died out by the time the issue the next front page story appeared, living conditions are still dire for many veteran artists in South Africa for despite international career success the reward does not in the smallest way match the tremendous effort many have put in to reach critical acclaim.
When I walked into ATTV studios a few weeks ago there were three smartly dressed ladies sitting in the reception area. I immediately knew it was the legendary Mahotella Queens as I had been informed prior that they would be at the studio. As I was about to greet them nerves got the better of me and instead I ducked into one of the passages in order to gather my wits about me. Some moments later I made my way to where the Mahotella Queens were sitting to extend my greetings. Talking to these Universal Mothers I could have been catching up with versions of my beloved family members such as an aunt or even my mother.
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| Nobesuthu Mbadu, Mildred Mangxola, Hilda Tloubatla |
Of the three, Mme Hilda is the most voluble and answers most of the questions relating to group. We spoke about their performances around the globe, of how they feel most alive on stage, that they are able to keep up with today’s upcoming performances, how they wish they could have more performance in South Africa as the only performance on our soil was for the Africa Day celebrations in May, of how at the moment they were sitting idle waiting for their international tour dates for 2012 and, during all this, Mme Hilda kept getting calls from all over the world of people enquiring after the well being of the group or seeking opportunities to work with them. To me it seemed very glamorous.
The veneer of the Mahotella Queens success was shattered when their portion of the shoot ended and it was time to go home. It came to light that the ladies been left stranded on their way to the Randburg studio as they did not have enough money to pay for taxi that was ferrying them and now they were unable to go back home. Even more shocking is that they had missed a previously scheduled shoot because they did not have airtime to phone and cancel their appearance. I repeat; even more shocking is that they had missed a previously scheduled shoot because they did not have airtime to phone and cancel their appearance.
After consultation between the ATTV team it was agreed that the already stretched production budget could not accommodate a meter taxi to take to Voslorus and Springs which are both on opposite ends of the East Rand. The day is pretty much coming to an end. I’ve already got pictures and content from Desmond Dube, Jabbaman and Seputla Sebogodi so I decided to take this opportunity to spend more time with the Mahotella Queens and volunteered to take them home. The production team gave me petrol money (most of which I later gave to the singing trio), we got into the car and off we went to the East Rand.
On our way we encountered traffic on the highway due to an accident. The drive therefore took longer than any of us anticipated but we eventually made our way into Voslorus where Mme Mildred and Mme Nobosuthu live. First drop off was Mme Nobesuthu whom I left just outside her house. All good.
We then set off to Mme Mildred’s house as she also lives in Volslorus. I’m still thrilled to be playing chauffeur to the Mahotella Queens. At some random intersection Mme Mildred instructed me to do a ‘short left’. For non pedestrians, this is when you ask a taxi to drop you off the first approaching road on the left. I asked how far her house was from this ‘short left’ and she told me it’s just around the corner. I then told her if she lives around the corner I may as well drop her off. She kept insisting that she didn’t want to inconvenience me and assured her it was my pleasure to be driving them.
Around the corner by car turned out to be almost 2 kilometers away from where she had asked me to drop her off. Even if there was a shortcut for pedestrians there is no way it was a short walk. Had the shoe been the other way foot I would have expected to be dropped not only at my front door but would have wanted the lucky person who had driven me to lay their coat on the ground for me to walk on. Is that not the life of a world renowned star, especially as 67 year old, dues have been paid!
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| The Mahotella Queens with a fan, Make-up Artist Mpho Mauda |
The next stop was Springs. After Mme Mildred alighted from the car Mme Hilda now sat in the passenger seat and listened to me sound off about how I was that that Mme Mildred would think any less than a door to door drop off would be acceptable. When we got to Springs it was Mme Hilda’s turn to leave me flabbergasted; she also insisted I leave her at a taxi stop. She pointed at one of the nearby houses, to assure me that she didn’t have far to go, recapped the directions and promptly sent me on my way as it the sun had started to set and Mme Hilda did not want me getting lost in the dark. She walked the rest of the way home.
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