A life worthy to be emulated

WHAT a pity the poverty of human language allows us only to say that a funeral was decent, for the send-off of the late isicathamiya pioneer Dr Joseph Shabalala at the Ladysmith Indoor Centre yesterday was worthy of all the adjectives and accolades.

Befitting a man of his stature, that President Cyril Ramaphosa described in his eulogy as “a man truly deserving of the title of legend”, Shabalala’s passing mirrored his life.

The eldest child of farmworkers, Shabalala left school at 12 to eke out a living in Durban so he could help put bread on the table for his seven siblings.

This is the lived experience of many of his contemporaries born in the South Africa where pigmentation determined one’s destiny.

He belongs to a rare breed of humans who used their God-given talent to lift themselves out of the squalor of their backgrounds.

Had he acquiesced to his detractors who said he should get a proper job as music wasn’t, the man named Bhekizizwe – meaning “guardian of nations” – would not have made music with Dolly Parton singing Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door.

Country music icon Parton would niether be the first, nor the last world star Mshengu and his Ladysmith Black Mambazo would collaborate with on stage.

Their five Grammy Awards attest to the genius and resilience of the humble man who died at 78 last week in Pretoria.

President Ramaphosa said at the funeral: “Their music has carried to the world the South African people’s story of pain, dispossession and loss, but also tales of camaraderie, friendship, triumph and faith.”

While his SONA was decried for its silence on the plight of artists, Ramaphosa picked the opportune moment to speak the language of creatives.

He spoke of available funding portals “to assist SMMES in the cultural and creative industries to access working capital finance”.

There’s a plethora of lessons to be learnt from Shabalala. He did not die a pauper, which is sadly the case for many artists in the country.

President Ramaphosa added: “Ladysmith Black Mambazo was the first and the only full-time professional choir that could live on royalties and concert fees alone.”

Earlier in the week, artists both young and old, reflected on the exemplary life led by the fallen idol.

It was a life worthy to be emulated, on and off the stage.