Yakhal’ Inkomo…the sax wailed

Yakhal’ Inkomo…the sax wailed(To Winston Mankunku)

Winston Monwabisi “Mankunku” Ngoziwasematshaweni; Born June 21 1943, Died October 13 2009

The silence of jazz is becoming too loud for its lovers. The few remaining jazz artists are swamped by the two-minute computerized house beats. Jazz gigs are trampled down by mismatched festivals in the name of arts.

If you turn on the radio, American garbage is fed to us forcefully everyday. No wonder the youngsters are wondering, ‘who is this Mankunku afrika is mourning?’ Bra Winston Mankunku is the trumpeter who composed “Yakhal’ Inkomo”.

The bull bellowed about the sacrifices of the sons and daughters of Afrika; about the blood that flowed on the streets of Azania, the massacres, the dompas law and the apartheid Sobukwe clause. Bra Winston’s compositions of 1968 at age 24 still touch hearts more than 40 years after they were recorded. Yakhal’ Inkomo, the masterpiece, still remains after his dust.

The Album was one of the most successful jazz albums on the apex of African music. The old timer was born in Cape Town in 1943; he was hypnotized by John Coltrane.

But he was never a copycat of anyone; he was always his own voice. When people were leaving the country, running away from the fumes of teargas, bullets and white domination, he remained to fight with his music.

For his music he suffered and sacrificed a lot. Sometimes he had to perform under a pseudonym. He blew the sax and gave birth to,* Yakhal’ Inkomo* Jika* Dudula* Molo Afrika* Abantwana beAfrikaHis music offers a metaphor for the realities of day to day life.

He was not a celebrity but only known by those who care about the heritage of our music, the unnoticed geniuses.

Ayanda Billie



Author: Mphutlane wa BofeloPublisher: Botsotso PublishersReviewer: Ayanda Billie

“This newly born nation has matured Young lions have grown into corporate executivesNow weeping for the loss of a business compatriot,The first among the few to actualize the ideal of a patriotic bourgeoisiePutting his wallet on his lip in service of Broad Based BEE”,

Outburst the BC philosopher, Muslim, poet and writer Mphutlane Bofelo in his poem “The shopping mall Revolution: Press clipping”. Bofelo’s book is a hot potato of poli-socio-psycho-spiritual that is not easily digestible. His poetry revises the past and replays the present and puts our situation under the microscope.

Bofelosophy connects every child and man with love, and brings them to a dialogue about poverty, violence and cruelty to one another. He asks ourselves questions to find reasons and the purpose to life. He speaks of pride, erasing every trace of mediocrity.

“The union and the employers agreein the interest of economic growththe workers will be retrenchedand then re-enter the job marketvia sub-contractor consortiumsowned by former shop stewardsturned avid entrepreneurs”

The poem entitled “caring for black labour” puts simply the new struggles that are faced by workers, the selling-out tendencies from former comrades, the evolution of revolution.His creativity explodes further in expression of love and compassion celebrating small strides of life.

“Response to a dying lover”as for me my love I have learnt in a special wayit is dying in your absencethat your omnipresencein my life manifests itself copiously”

Bofelo’s satirical, outspoken, direct and frank style and his tendency to write the unlistenable truth, leaves one staring at the pages of the book. It’s a liberating conscious journey that grills the mind from black consciousness to Mandela in which the present is conceived through the eyes of the past that leaves a sour taste.

A wordsmith extraordinaire that has reached the acme of his craft, he is presently based in Durban where he performs poetry and is a speaker.

His writings have been published in journals, newspapers, websites and anthologies.Wa-Bofelo’s writings imbues richness, explores the depths of creativity without fearing the nightmare of art that has thrown other creative minds into a mist of madness.


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