SATURDAY INTERVIEW

was shaped by it.”

He’s shaped generations of South Africans with his music. The Springboks run out on to the pitch for every Test match to the sounds of Impi, his 1981 hit single, while Asimbonanga, his 1988 hit, is a perennial favourite for documentaries about Nelson Mandela, but neither of them are his favourite tracks.

“Songs change their meaning often and the writer can look back and say: ‘I know the young man who wrote that, but I’m older now.’ ”

A case in point is The Crossing/Osiyeza, written in memory of his Savuka collaborator and longtime Zulu dance partner Dudu Ndlovhu, who was tragically gunned down while trying to mediate in a KwaZulu-Natal taxi war.

“It’s a song about a life taken prematurely – now when I sing it, it’s ironic,” he says. Then there’s his other hit Cruel Crazy, Beautiful World, written when his son Jesse was born, or Dela, a love song about two lovers torn apart.

“All my song writing has been about wholeness, I come from a society that was fragmented. Apart from Nazi Germany, no other country ever legalised separation. It’s all about trying to close the circle to join that which was separated.”

As he prepares for the tour dates, he’s also looking beyond to after the Final Journey. He might be stopping performing, but he won’t be lying down either. There’s his autobiography to get into shape, there are all the books he’s never had time to read and greater involvement in his other business, electronic waste recycling.

“We’ve got a factory in Midrand and branches in Pinetown and Port Elizabeth, we’re about to open in Cape Town. We recycle everything down to the smallest circuit board. I’m a businessman and an entrepreneur and this business fulfils the needs of my activist juices, being involved in some- thing for the greater good of all. At the same time, there’s a chance to make a green buck,” he laughs.

“I’ll still keep writing music, I’ve got five new tracks that I’m working on and will release slowly. I’ll probably do sound tracks for movies and documentaries. I’ll be open to small projects that take my fancy.”

Most of all though, he’ll concentrate on enjoying every day.

“In this frantic rush of modern life, one is always trapped in what has to be done in the future and my future is a question mark, so I kind of don’t really look at that with such intensity any more; each day for me is a special thing.

“I had no ambitions as a young person, I just had an

“At the age of 15 the whole new world of a warrior culture unfolded. The songs, the words, the movements, were a gift to me because it enabled me to shape myself, much like karate.

“My ambitions were to become an African, but not in the sense of an Afrikaner, who is also an African. I – a white person born outside Manchester in the UK – wanted to find my own personal road and in that darkest of times I discovered an African migrant community that was so open, so generous and so happy to have a white kid dancing in the hostels that they accelerated my urban adventure into a tribal world. They accelerated it with explanations and encouragement.”

Today, the success of that transition has become vital in how he deals with the challenges of overcoming and living with cancer.