Cover Story
– Unathi Nkayi On Regaining Her Appetite For Life
I can’t think of a time when being in a black hair salon didn’t bring me — and, I’m quite certain, many other women too — the greatest joy. Between the ludicrous gossip, medley of accents that fill the often-cramped space and new-found confidence we walk out with (thanks to the fresh hairdos), salons can be both therapeutic and the quickest distributors of rumours. It’s for this reason that I’m slightly concerned when Unathi suggests that we meet at her regular hair spot for our interview. Located in a quaint Lonehill shopping centre, the joint is surprisingly quiet — but then again, it’s a weekday afternoon. The occasional white noise of the hairdryer and Unathi murmuring, “big or small” — as she hands sections of fibre to stylist Khulekani — are the only reminders that this, indeed, is a place where women’s strands come for pampering.
Unathi is braiding her hair into a get-up-and-go style ahead of the Trinidad and Tobago vacation that had us camping on her Instagram page in mid-February. Hers is one of the most instantly recognisable faces, thanks to a TV, radio and singing career spanning almost two decades. Surely the idea of discussing intimate details in front of strangers, in a hair salon, did cross her mind? “Ag, why would I have a problem if all I’m going to be is honest with you? I figured whoever hears me will probably read the story anyway — which is why I’m always truthful and authentic,” she explains — a justification I perceive as the epitome of freedom.
It’s obvious from how Khulekani meticulously sections off the baby hairs along Unathi’s hairline, careful not to pull them into the cornrow, that he is invested in her hair goals. At this point, Unathi faces the mirror to inspect if he has set aside enough to spare her hairline from any trauma.
“Idols starts in March Khuli,” she squeals, “I don’t want to be on TV with injibhabha.” This interaction alone suggests that theirs is a longstanding client-customer relationship.
“Khulekani has been braiding my hair since 2001. He used to treat my locs, too, and was the one who cut them off in 2005,” she shares, adding that he also does her children’s hair. With a healthy and intact hairline being such a sought-after commodity among black women, I curiously enquire about her tried-andtested hair routine. “Are you asking on or off the record,” she retorts, before proceeding to share what she describes as the “unofficial hair recipe” that has kept hers solid for decades. PS: It’s a pity I can’t share it because she swore me to secrecy [chuckles]. “The PR answer I usually give to the ‘what is the secret to your healthy hair’ question is: hydration, hydration and hydration,” she says inbetween mischievous giggles.
STRENGTH, AN OVERRATED TRAIT
If you think Unathi’s larger-than-life energy is a mere public persona that she dons to work, wait until you meet her away from the limelight. Her presence, similar to radio and TV, literally means…*cue* dramatic laughter, animated illustrations and an infectious aura that lingers long after she’s left. Therefore, it would seem like somewhat of an anomaly that she, too, experiences serious downers. She takes this moment to correct some of the misconceptions that have
People think I’m stronger and more resilient than I actually am, or that I don’t get hurt by how they treat me. They assume that I’m only sensitive on Idols and that I, weirdly enough, switch that sensitivity off when it comes to the rest of my life.
plagued her most of her adult life. “People think I’m stronger and more resilient than I actually am, or that I don’t get hurt by how they treat me. They assume that I’m only sensitive on Idols and that I, weirdly enough, switch that sensitivity off when it comes to the rest of my life,” she says. The truth, and something she says all the time, is that she’s done being strong because she actually has no clue what it means. “I love being vulnerable, and that’s why I’m in therapy. As black women, the expectation is often that we must prioritise others before ourselves, and I’ve had to decode a lot of those beliefs. I love and crave being taken care of. I want to feel protected and covered.”
For the longest time, Unathi resisted the urge to be vulnerable, explaining how too many facets of her life depended on her maintaining a strong front. “I had to hold myself together for my 10-piece band, business partners and crew at Mamela TV, and especially my kids. I wanted them to feel safe at home so they wouldn’t grow up with anxiety issues,” she reflects. She has dubbed Wednesdays “self-care days”, sharing that she recharges by burning some candles, incense and listening to the world while sitting next to the water feature in her garden. “Because I interact with a lot of people, I rejuvenate myself through solitude. My girlfriends call my house ‘The Home of Restoration’. Every two months or so, I invite my new and old girlfriends for a gettogether. We’ll have a bring-and-braai, or get a caterer if we’re lazy and the budget is good. The point of these gatherings is to heal while enjoying some much-needed quality time.”
As someone who doesn’t shy away from telling people to check themselves when they’re wrong, and who’s equally uncompromising about her truth, she’s learnt to convey her opinions in less abrasive forms. Her dad, she says, always reiterates how there’s nothing more threatening than a single black woman. He is also the voice of reason, always pointing out that because Unathi was raised abroad, naturally, she’s more vocal than her female counterparts — which tends to shock or rub people the wrong way. “As I’ve grown older, I’ve learnt that it’s not what I say, but how I say it. Ten years ago, I was quite militant in how I said things, but being a mother has taught me gentle ways of presenting whatever truth I need to put out there.”
A NEW DAWN
In the spirit of wearing her vulnerabilities on the sleeve more often, Unathi first expressed how morning radio broke her in her 2019 memoir I’m Still Learning. She details how she sacrificed mornings with her kids while co-hosting the Metro FM breakfast show, and would make up
for it with the afternoon school run, cooking and putting them to bed. She doesn’t believe in being a prisoner of time, and still continued living as though she didn’t have to be up at 3.30am for her 5am call-time on weekdays.
After a 10-year tenure of incredible highs and debilitating lows at Metro FM, she ended her career abruptly, in 2017, when radio politics got in the way. “I had to run away from radio because I was hurting so badly. I didn’t want to be an angry broadcaster nor turn the radio show into my therapy session. My parents also taught me to handle tough situations with grace, so I didn’t want to go around dragging Metro FM’s name through the mud,” the 41-yearold explains. When Kaya FM 95.9 Managing Director Greg Maloka approached her about joining the station three years ago, she politely declined, citing that she first needed to heal so she could be fully of service. “I didn’t want to bleed out on anyone!”
Cue her new Kaya FM 95.9 radio show, Midday-Joy with Unathi, a new beginning that has all the makings of any mother’s dream job. The cliché “you never know what you have until it’s gone” rings true for Unathi’s radio career. It wasn’t until she snuggled her way into the hearts of Kaya FM 95.9 listeners on a rainy Monday on 2 March that most people realised how much her three-year absence from the airwaves had left a dent in the radio landscape. “This gig means the world to me because it’s allowing me to be feminine in every way,” she beams. “Greg Maloka wanted me to wake up my kids every morning, cook supper for them every night and pick them up from school because he knows how much those little things mean to me. Kaya FM 95.9 wants me to go on holidays with my girlfriends because it energises me.”
Unathi mostly looks forward to many intergenerational and global conversations around travel, music and other pivotal topics with the listeners, and growing old with them on air. I tell her how Kaya FM 95.9 is so up her alley that I have a feeling she’s going to retire there — and she concurs with a smile. “The audience is 50% male and female, and I think I resonate with both sexes,” she chimes in. But, what makes this gig that much more special is that she feels that her femininity is being celebrated, and rewarded. “I’m not being told that I have to adopt a masculine power in order to succeed,” she enthuses. This, in an era where women already wear themselves thin in the workforce, is a reassuring move — one that sheds off the mommy guilt and juggling loads. May more leaders follow in Greg’s footsteps – *wink, wink*.
HEALING IN FRONT OF AN AUDIENCE
Though much of Unathi’s healing from her divorce and work battles happened in private, there seemed to be an imaginary audience ogling her for signs of distress — obviously because of her public-figure status. Uncompromising at delivering on her craft, she was careful not to allow the personal to ever spill into the professional. Leaving Metro FM proved the perfect move in the end. “I needed to step away from the daily limelight, an audience or witnesses, so that I could hear my voice clearly. The greatest lesson I learnt, throughout, was to never overshare about the process you’re going through,” she explains.
Unathi is not playing into society’s unwritten rule of painting divorce and co-parenting as toxic. She’s learnt to bargain with her emotions while also acknowledging that her ex-husband will always be the love of her life — both traits that take incredible discipline to achieve. From a distance, having the added dynamic of listening or seeing an ex in the media seems as painful and sensitive as an overfiled nail bed. In her case, not only is she dealing with an exhusband and co-parent, but she also has to process Thomas Msengana as her old radio mentor, as well as someone whom she admires greatly on a professional level. “It’s raw and vivid because you never know what information someone is going to volunteer about him that day. You never know what he himself is going to bring that day,” she chuckles. But, through healing, she quickly learnt how to separate issues.
She candidly shares how, during her divorce, therapy became a supporting crutch that helped her rise above all the traumas of the process, emotions and toxicity purported by tabloids. “There is so much strength in healing and owning our past traumas. It’s OK to not be OK, and to hit rock-bottom with an understanding that it’s a fleeting phase,” she says. “My father is a retired psychologist, so therapy has always been a big theme in our family. I’ve always gone to therapy when I’ve needed it in the different pockets of my life.” Exercise has also played a big role in her healing. “I can’t live without gym, especially in the morning. I need the endorphins to boost my mood so I can be ready to host people.”
RETURNING TO SELF
Returning to “Unathi Nkayi” currently tops her list of priorities, and is a transition she describes as magical. “I often tell friends that this new chapter feels as if I’m the young Eastern Cape girl who first arrived in Joburg in 2001. I’m discovering new places I was scared to go to. I recently discovered a skating rink in Bryanston, and I go on bicycle tours around Soweto. It feels like I’m discovering this enormous city for the first time because I’m remembering the things I love and don’t. I have an appetite for life that I missed for a very long time,” she says.
At age 15, Unathi remembers driving through Joburg in a school bus, en route to a hockey tournament in Zimbabwe. She vividly recalls seeing the “Welcome to Johannesburg” sign, and timing how long it would take to get to Pretoria. “I remember thinking to myself: I’m gonna come back here, someday, and be a person of significance — not influence! I
I had to run away from radio because I was hurting so badly. I didn’t want to be an angry broadcaster nor turn the radio show into my therapy session.
There is so much strength in healing and owning our past traumas. It’s OK to not be OK, and to hit rock-bottom with an understanding that it’s a fleeting phase.
further said: I’m gonna run this city one day.” Here she is, 27 years since that tournament, and an undisputed force in entertainment.
As I descend the cast-iron staircase on my way to the parking area, after our interview, I can’t help but wonder if Unathi knows that she is running this industry in her own special way. I also can’t help but feel like a big deal for having interviewed one of the most phenomenal women to ever grace this industry. *Drops pen! *