Nothing feels more South African than turning up those local old-school gems for the whole community to enjoy on the weekend. On our street’s playlist this week was Letta Mbulu and Caiphus Semenya’s ‘Ndi Phendule’, the couple’s most loved hit song. It’s the kind of song that immediately engages your heart and asks it to feel the life on its skin, to bite into the joy of today. In it, Mam’ Letta Mbulu and Ntate Caiphus sing a conversation between lovers, in which the man has just asked for his lady’s hand in marriage and is awaiting her response; hence ‘Ndi Phendule,’ which means ‘answer me’ in isiXhosa. I love Mam Letta Mbulu so much. My deep admiration for her began in 2021 when 19-year-old me rediscovered ‘There’s Music In the Air’. The song was my anxiety cure, my companion during my afternoon decompression sessions after a full day of isolating online lectures in our living room. Recently, my admiration for Mam Letta’s music has been about more than the soothing qualities of her songs; it’s about the experiences of womanhood she writes into her music.
To be a woman is to constantly ask yourself, “Can I possibly have it all?” It’s to negotiate yourself between what you want and what you can have. I often think of womanhood and femininity as a negotiating force through which the outcomes and possibilities of life are determined. When my mom chooses to use a specific tone instead of another or when she decides what the right time to have a conversation is and how she must curate the environment to suit the type of conversation she wants to have, I see how pivotal women are to margins that shift realities. In ‘Ndi Phendule’, the lady asks the man for more time as she considers his proposal for marriage. A lady must take her time to navigate the delicate dance between options, especially in situations and decisions that are ‘reality-shifting.’ As a Christian woman who loves God’s ways, yet who doesn’t hesitate to ask questions when my natural understanding falls short, it was quite the trip to wrestle with and fully grasp the concept of the submission of women. I was taken on a beautiful journey where the wonder of that ‘submission’ didn’t disturb the feminist in me anymore. This song and the heavy considerations Mam Letta Mbulu confronts in this slow process of deciding to marry, encapsulate my understanding of submission so well now. To submit is not to cede power; it is to give considered agreement to an agenda, perhaps the truly powerful position in a partnership. And in that pause between yes or no; yes or no to the marriage, to the conflict, to the pursuit of the dream – that is where the power lies.
Ofcourse the true gem of being a woman isn’t in how we can hold communities or families together, it is in how we can learn to finally give ourselves the same love we so freely share with the world. It is not lost on me that in the two most important commandments, the Bible says to love God with all your might & love others as you love yourself. This indicates how important it is to love yourself really well so you can love others just as well too. One of my all-time favourite songs is Lira’s ‘Soul in Mind’. In which she beautifully writes, “I am a child born of love. So let love remain in my heart and my mind. Let love and joy be my friend, give me peace with no end. Let me live with no fear and no shame. Let me begin to see love come alive in my life. Let me feel how it feels to be me…
“A longing pounding in my heart led me to want so much more out of life. Led me to forgive every hurt, to let go of the past – and allow myself to heal every pain. Now I am free, yes, I hold myself up high. The burden on my shoulder is no longer with me. Now i can breathe, yes, I feel so much at ease, my soul is alright with me. This is a prayer for my soul in mind…” These are the most beautiful lyrics I will ever come across. Being a woman sometimes can feel like a cyclone is approaching an island; emotions and temperaments can flare up so high that one can get caught up in a storm of emotions. Just after turning 20, I had one of those, and I felt completely lost within the corners of my own life. This song by Lira always helps to ground me; it truly is a prayer for my soul, and without fail, it always helps me find my true north. To be human is to lose and find your true north many times over, but to be a woman on this journey is to conjure the necessary internal storms that nourish ancient roots, eventually growing a rainforest of magical wisdom.
Another one of my all-time favourite songs is Msaki’s ‘Chem Trails’ (feat Caiiro). Msaki is a legendary figure in my books; she signifies a woman who is completely in full ownership of herself. She doesn’t belong to any genre, she is not tied to a single sound, she may be gentle and soothing and gorgeous in all ways, but she is undefinable & unlimited. The first time I heard Chem Trails, on the day it dropped, it was an instant favourite. The kind of song that you know has changed your life in the first 30 seconds you hear it. What I enjoy about Msaki & inadvertently about Chem Trails, is her/its intensity.
I often feel that one of the best ways to explain the experience of girlhood/womanhood is that you’re like a fire that everyone is trying to keep small. (While we are here, I’d also really love to hear a poetic expression of the experience of boyhood/manhood if someone has one) In trying to keep you small, society later teaches you how to do that by yourself. There are many limitations I haven’t had to grapple with by virtue of being a girl, and for that I thank my family and community; however, I haven’t escaped the greater societal limitations that no woman can be immune to, including but not limited to: when you can walk outside in a city you live in, where you can and can’t go in a city/country that’s your birthright, what you can and can’t wear with your own body etc.
Msaki’s ‘Chem Trails’ embodies the intensity that rages within me that often feels unacceptable or undesirable. In the song, she writes a really passionate and intense monologue/letter to what seems like a lover. The poetic language used is half the drama, but the song itself, thanks to Caiiro, also feels like the pressure of multiple ocean waves crashing on you and taking your breath away. These are the second most beautiful lyrics I will ever read. The song is freeing to the kind of girls who like to receive love letters but also want to write 3 pages of poetry for a guy they like, for those who want to text first or say I love you first, the queens who feel passionately about a quirky interest, who say what they want, who are ambitious to what feels like a fault to the rest of the world..
Msaki teaches me to be a woman in the way I want to be a woman, not in a way that’s prescribed by everyone else.
Muse Journal 
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