kagablog

The enduring connections of bloodlines insist that we are what our forbearers were. In Mak Manaka’s case, that connection has created a gifted artist who recently added recording artist to his list of credits. LERATO MOGOATLHE caught up with him

In Mak Manaka’s kingdom where slam poetry is delivered, the pomp and fanfare that accompanies fake monarchies and populists are not the order of the day. Manaka is, without doubt, one of South Africa’s greatest talents and sharpest minds.

The first son of artistic creators Matsemela and Nomsa Manaka, when he steps up to his poetic throne in Jozi joints, armed with a mic, words and passion, you cannot help but feel humbled by his presence. He has a potent mind and his words create pictures that are as vivid as the man who creates them.

“I see pictures in my mind before forming my words,” says Manaka about his ability to take elements of hip-hop, African oral tradition, a family history of creating and performing, and every experience that touches his life, to write some of the most exciting poems on the spoken word scene.

His father Matsemela Manaka was a playwright and visual artist, while his mother, Nomsa is as famous for her determination as she is for her consummate talent and passion as a dancer and choreographer. And out of the mouth of their 25-year-old son, whom they raised around art, creativity and black consciousness, comes words that affirm his past, present and future in the arts. He is the apple that did not fall far from the tree and is currently one of the soldiers of slam poetry doing the rounds in Joburg. They are performance artists with a committed following rather than a mass fanbase and their books, like Mak’s anthology If I could, are often self-published.

His reggae infused debut album, Word Sound Power, resounds with socio-political statements such as: “Because in these streets wounded by depression, perseverance and hard work is what it takes to survive the sharp blades of the ghetto I call home.” His poems share his private experiences, question society, celebrate life and make very hard-hitting observations, like “children of born gold, of silver spoons stand up on cosmetic podiums talking about their golden future…but a child nurtured by depression aspires to grow up and put food on the table”. But there is no anger. Just Manaka telling it as it is.

He is a writer whose pen is as mighty as he is confident. He doesn’t even hold back on the broke state of the artist, hollering, “I’m still broke, passion pays no bills sure, we’re on TV, we’re on stage, we’re everywhere, doesn’t mean we’ve got money. I’m still broke”. His words simply ring true. The album’s music matches it’s lyrical potency. The jazzy reggae beats, produced by DM Tafari, will make you want to sway your body without losing focus on Manaka’s words.

N otes legendary poet Don Mattera: “If genius can be genetically connected and if it flows from generation to generation, then Mak Manaka is the epitome of it. He comes from a dynasty of talented, creative and gifted people – Nomsa and Matsemela.”

Manaka, who has shared stages with luminaries such as Keorapetse Kgosietsile, the Last Poets, Linton Kwezi Johnson and Sarah Jones, sums up the importance of art in his life as such: “I’d die if I weren’t an artist.” Mak does not just believe that he was born to create; he also accepts that his life’s journey was determined at the source and that he needs to express it. His calling as a poet is the result of both nature and nurture. In the poem Home, also on Word Sound Power, he says: ”My father always said never put the pen down.” The pen is still his shepherd.

’If genius can be genetically connected and if it flows from generation to generation, then Mak Manaka is the epitome of it. He comes from a dynasty of talented, creative and gifted people’ – Don Mattera

Born and raised in Diepkloof, Soweto, Manaka was already a regular at the once famous Funda artists centre by the age of four, where he hung out with his parents and their fellow black consciousness and creative comrades. He started writing poetry at 14 after a tragic accident two years earlier left him wheelchair bound. His life was changed one day when a wall fell on him while he was playing with a group of friends.

One person died and others sustained injuries. Manaka broke his lower spinal cord and was told he’d be in a wheelchair for life. But determination is one of the adjectives that best describe this artist so Manaka and his mother got working on proving expectations wrong. Through her dance therapy and his resilience, Manaka got writing, performing and eventually walking again. This is the power of believing in the self.

Young Maokomela, whose name means being one whose shoulders can handle big burdens, overcame heavy burdens while still in his teens and the struggle continues.

“People pity me when they see me,” he says, “But you must see their faces after they hear me speak on stage,” he chuckles. His independence reinforces that “people are not defined by what they cannot do”. Manaka is more than a doer, he’s a creator who believes in the power of his poetry.

“Yes, my words are powerful and this is confirmed by the rain that pours every time I speak the truth,” he says, adding, “My mother says it was pouring when I was born.” And just like that, as he’s sharing his views about politricks, creativity, Africa, identity, love and inspiration, the Joburg skies opened. Perhaps a sign that Word Sound Power is the album that our conscious music catalogue needs: the riddims are excellent, the lyrics delicious food for thought and it provides the continuation of the legacy of the African artist as an engaging mouthpiece. Artist and writer, Aryan Kaganof, rightfully calls Word Sound Power “a milestone album for spoken word in South Africa”.

More than anything, the album is further testimony that Manaka, the offspring of two great artists, is correct when he says that his life is a continuation of his parents’ talents and passion. Beyond the album, he’s also working on a film version of his father’s play, Goree, hoping to extend his father’s legacy beyond its current audience of pan-African culture vultures. But ultimately, a man has to be judged by his own worth and contribution and not just by his family’s. And Manaka’s life, art and experiences prove that he is more than just his parents’ child. He is a noted artist in his own right.

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this article first appeared in the city press