J

el i. ALLEL

Jd.

On June 14, 1985, the Boer
army, SADF, raided Gaborone,
Botswana. In cold blood, they kil-
led twelve people, including a
child. Among the murdered vic-
tims was Thamsanga (Thami)
Mnyele, a young man, a dedi-
cated cultural worker. His
broken-limbed bloody body was
found outside in the yard of the
house where he lived with his wife
Rhona. At times their child Sindi
lived with them. But on that early
morning of gratuitous mass mur-
der Rhona and Sindi escaped;
they were not home. Thami’s life
was snuffed out but his art lives
on.

Mnyele was an artist
who believed that
cultural work and
political work cannot
be separated, that
cultural workers
‘have no choice but
to be partisan.

Thamsanqua Mnyele was an ar-
tist who believed that cultural

work and political work cannot be
separated, in fact, that cultural
workers had no choice but to be
partisan. This conviction led him
to innovative yet resolute cultural
endeavors. He was always
searching, in pursuit of ways and
means of merging art forms into
weapons of teaching, mobilizing
and recording the history of our
people. In the final analysis, he
wanted to place art in the hands of
our own people, as weapons of
liberation. This was his daily pre-
occupation and to this end he did
not spare himself. He worked
hard, sometimes round the clock,
to perfect the skills of his craft. To
him the epitome of artistic execu-
tion was the effective manner in
which it articulated the struggle of

the people of South Africa against
oppression and exploitation, for
liberation.

In life and struggle, the Boers
have robbed us of a good friend
and fine comrade. His life, his
presence was a series of little ac-
tions, soft-spoken statements,
that have accumulated into pro-
found meaning here and now. He
touched us. We are instructed!
He was reticent and could be
quiet, for hours even in the com-
pany of friends. But he could also
dominate time, talking about
music and playing it endlessly. A

_fine singer, he was sensitive to the

elements that made song. Hum-
ming with a guitar, with a saxo-
phone or trumpet, he would pro-
duce the sound of drums simul-
taneously as he sang along with a
track. Then he would burst out
laughing both in appreciation of
the musicians and at his listeners.
He knew the provenance of
most recordings, the artists and
the instruments they played and
so he would always select the
appropriate music to match time,
mood and place. His collection of
audio tapes was broad, including
jazz, traditional Mbagangqa, clas-
sical and international fol. His
music kept friends together.

Thami also loved literature.
Highly selective of what he read,
he studied every novel, play and
poem carefully. In informed con-
versations, he would then choose
a line, a verse, a paragraph or a
character from a book and de-
mand that it be enjoyed and ap-
preciated. He would assert what
it does for our life.

Thami lived his life through
music, he read literature and he
observed everyday life in-
tensively. From these three he
was inspired and became a fine
painter and graphic artist. He
watched people closely, listened
to them carefully, fought them
and loved them intensely — and

Life and death of an’

artist in struggle

When the South Afrigan Defence Force launched a raid on
Botswana on June 14 last year, Thami Mnyele, a gifted
graphic artist, was killed. The raiding hordes went into his
house and shot up his art-work, much in the same way as
Hitler's occupying forces had sacked galleries and lib-
raries of the vanquished. Mongane Wally Serote, who knew —
Thami from the earliest days, has contributed this portrait.

THAIMI MNYELE

fe eee
thus derived material for his
work. His humor was made up
from the small things of ordinary
life — imitating the walk and talk
of old people, the way they hold a
knife, a spoon or a pipe. Or he
would act. out his friends’
peculiarities, their unconscious
gestures. Imitating them in their
presence, he would laugh until
tears rolled down his face. All
these, finally, emerged in Thami’s
work.

Thami was born on the 10th of
December, 1948, in Alexandra
Township. His father was a
priest. He used to say, his mother
is a woman made by Alexandra
Township. He had brothers and a
sister who died. I remember the
first time I met Thami, it was in
1970 in a friend’s house. A:photo-
grapher, in Alexandra, had asked
me to meet Thami who he said
was a painter. By then I had been
to many art exhibitions and knew
many of the best of South Africa’s
painters. Thami was there, then,
in that house and had brought one
of his works which he had care-
fully wrapped in brown paper. I
kept wondering what we were
going to see: a Dumile imitation,
or a Legae imitation, or an Arnold
imitation? But, then, the point
here is that I had already judged
Thami. There was then something
which the white galleries had
termed Township Art, and the ar-
tists I’ve named above had done it
all, most young artists were im-
itating them. That was the only
way to success, whatever that is.
Out emerged Thami’s work. A
small pig, neatly drawn of a
combination of wax crayons. The
small pig was strangely fat and
round but drawn with amazing
accuracy. There was a strange si-
lence in the house. My friend and
Ilooked at each other. Thami was
staring somewhere away from us
to the ceiling. He kept scratching
his cheek and chin. Before we

24 e PACIFIC TRIBUNE, APRIL 29, 1987

could say anything, he wrapped
the work neatly in its brown
paper. He called the work Prodi-
gal Son. We all laughed!

From that day on, many of us,
writers, painters, photographers,
musicians met and we would talk
endlessly, into the early hours of
many mornings, about our libera-
tion and culture. Eventually, out
of those discussions, we found
ourselves organized into what we
called Mihloti Black Theatre.

Thami came to live in Bots-
wana in 1978. He joined Medu Art
Ensemble, a cultural group made
up of Batswana, South Africans
and European expatriates. He
pioneered the graphic arts unit of
this group in preducing political
posters. He became the head of
the graphic unit and later the
chairman of the group. The
graphic unit became one of the
most active units of this group and
very influential. Posters from the
unit, T-shirts, badges, postcards
and calendars are all over the
world. In offices, during
demonstrations, rallies every-
where where freedom is talked
about and fought for, they are
there. Have the Boers killed
Thami?

Umkhonto We Sizwe

There were many hours and
many days of discussions, argu-
ment, in the group. These strug-
gles within a struggle enabled us
to produce and learn about cul-
ture and struggle.

ae ee eee

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(604) 734-1712

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Southern Africa Action Coalition
2524 Cypress Street
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At times, Thami could be 4
simple man. He had this almost
childlike wonder at how the
people of South Africa have built
the African National Congress
and their army, Umkhonto We
Sizwe. As an ANC cadre, Thami
forever tried to express how he
was humbled by the seriousness
with which our leadership took
cultural work, in the same way
they did other work in the mové-
ment. He talked endlessly about
this. And there is no doubt, the
ANC had nurtured Thami_ the

man, Thami the cultural workel

into a new man the new South
Africa is awaiting. Thami fell at
his post, a resolute man, optimis-
tic about the future and ready t0
take up his next assignment.

ANC Cadres
We miss Thami. And, like him,
we have contempt and hatred for
a system which is run by madmeft
who, in their small minds, are un’

able to accept change. They are
soaking the soil of our country
with the blood of the best sons:

and daughters of our land, every-
day. Thami’s work, thoughts;
laughter — and some of his best
qualities — remain sharp

clear in our minds, and these if
spire us to be good ANC cadres:
for he was one. The madmen are

frightened and sleepless. Tham!

lives amongst us.

— Rixaka, cultural journal of
the African National Congres®