Ekse! Salute to the Brotherhood. Ek se, One Love!

The backdrop

It is circa 2006, and the brotherhood has recently been formalised and given a name; TOT (Tower of Thought). TOT had established itself as the new kid on the block in the JHB poetry scene, we were becoming the sterings, solidifying our then new-to-the-scene performance format consisting of various styles, forms and languages representative of South Aah. We were a breath of fresh flair, a collective of note, one our predecessors identified with and remembered their youthful passions by.

This night was one of many we had ventured out to conquer more terrain. Theatre, check! Poetry, check! Mic check Bantu-1-2![i]. I had been on the next mission to explore the Johazardousburg rap scene.

Communicating with Shorty Skills throughout the week about the possibility to distribute (resell) his music, the legend invited me to ‘Mind your Head’ sessions that Friday night. So, k'a bitsa zonke iZinja Zam (I mobilised all my comrades) and we ventured into the Jozi CBD in search of a new shrine to touch base with.

Two mugging attempts while meandering the Johazardousburg streets and multiple freestyle raps, monologues and slam poetry war cries later, we arrived at the ‘Mind your Head’ sessions venue. Our silence spoke contentment as we approached a cul-de-sac with roars of “whaaat!?’ and ‘whooaaa!!’ exclamations amongst a circle of our tribesman; we have been welcomed by a cypher.

Touchdown

It was an overwhelming experience. Daffy Duck was rapping!!

There he was; skilfully channelled by Thabo “Projektah” Pitso, a living legend (whatever my 2 cents are worth, ke betjha ka that statement). We (TOT) were all in awe. We were performance stewards and this was the first time we encountered anyone who broke the mould further than we had. Projektah’s form was impeccable; the function was well executed. We could hear every word ‘Daffy Duck’ was saying and the context remained ‘Rap’. This is a miracle, we are home.

The cypher eventually dispersed, and the congregation steadily entered the venue. In true craftsmanship, a Hiphoper stood by the 6m roller shutter door and acclaimed ‘Mind your head’ as each person ducked through the opening to enter the venue. In Hip Hop, every single detail matters.

As we walked through what seemed to be a loading area; our tribesmen were spread throughout the space; each clan synced and seemingly curated to fit the environment as should. TOT had not said a word to each other for minutes on end, we were Flabbagasted. We have found our own.

Walking down the stairway, our well-founded yenning to occupy the basement is met with joy. For any Hip Hop connoisseur, gracing any basement is a pilgrimage. The basement is synonymous with specific traditions of the Hip Hop culture. It is where we have historically discovered and refined industry-changing technologies (i.e., the scratch, sampling), where we have cooked some of the greatest works of art. Once these were perfected, Hip Hop has without fail stepped into the world and pioneered the practice of ‘open source’. Anyone and everyone may use the sauce (Hiphop); only if you don’t ‘bite’ or most importantly; corrupt the source material.

The World and or vs. Us

Finally! We made it to a Hip Hop basement. I steadily made it to the bar area, where Shorty said he would assume responsibility for a barman for the event. I couldn’t believe it, there he was, Robo the Technician in person. Shorty introduced me to him, and we discussed business as planned.

A few Deejay sets and a performance later, TOT decides to head back to ‘Braamfie’, as it was then known before the gentrification popular culture hub Braamfontein is today. We must go back and prepare ourselves for the reality of pursuing our purpose while readying for the ‘World’ of ‘working’ to ‘make a living’.

Siyabonga ‘Graftin’ Buthelezi must rest and make it in time to work for the construction industry standard of site commencing at 6:30 am.

Boitshoko ‘Abstrakt Dilluzion’ Reetsang has an essay to complete and submit.

Vus’muzi Phakathi, then known in the poetry circuit as ‘Romeo The Poet’, had to study for his upcoming assessments in legal studies.

Jefferson ‘J. Bobs’ Tshabalala had to prepare for his upcoming WSoA Theatre and Performance crit. We were all protégées of greatness, and I, Thabo ‘Fine Art’ Pie had to, as an assessment, compile a BoQ for the first time.

The Tower grew taller and more formidable to a T! More masters of the craft; Sakhile ‘Black Rhino’ Gumbi, Thando ‘Dr Thando’ and Zizwe ‘Amethyst Rok’ Dlamini soon tuned-in and we prospected the entire Gauteng, planting gems every stage we set foot on.

In this ‘World’ we live in, ‘working’ is Quantified to ‘make a living’ and the Bill on our lives is taxing. To free ourselves, we are “suited up in street clothes”[ii] as “new planes getting broken in”[iii].

In the words of J. Bobs, we seek “to Artist again!”. I am a Rap Scholar.

[i] Cashless Society, Hottentot Hop Bantu 1,2, African Raw Material Vo.1 (2003) (line 1, chorus)

[ii] Nas (Jones, Nasir), N.Y. State of Mind, Illmatic (1994) (line 4, verse 1)

[iii] Jay Z (Carter, Sean), God Did, God Did (2022) (line 24, verse 3)