Philsande Putuma lives a stone’s throw from Bridge Books, though we didn’t know that when he first came in three years ago. We got to know him when we decided to tackle the mess at the old Rissik Street Post Office in 2023. At the time, this beautiful old building had become not only an eyesore but a health hazard, filled with rubbish and human excrement by those used the south wing as a hideout. He hated seeing the neighbourhood like that.

Teams from Bridge and the LitDistrict, working together with the Johannesburg Inner City Partnership and the Social Employment Fund, cleaned out the space. Drawing attention to the post office prompted the city to improve the security, so it’s stayed cleaner – although the building still needs to find a new purpose and dramatic refurb.

He got inspired to join in. Philasande finds beauty in the city in ways that many people miss. He’s been working with us on making the neighbourhood clean and safe, but he also brings life to the LitDistrict through his poetry. He writes and performs in isiXhosa. He describes work as political poetry, a compassionate humanism for his heritage and ancestors.

He’s been writing since he was 15 in the Eastern Cape, where he grew up in Mthatha. He began writing music after high school and had a brief music career. Then he moved to Johannesburg in 2019 to pursue his poetry. 

He hasn’t published any poetry yet, but he performs regularly at the Weed Lovers Market poetry slam on Loveday. He also juggles his work for LitDistrict with his entrepreneurial pursuits selling car polish, pretty much like most people that call the inner city home, a side hustle is mandatory. The text of one of his Poems is below, with the English version at the end of this story.

Four questions for Philasande Putuma

Q: What are some emotions or ideas that you can only truly express in your indigenous language and not in any other language? 
A: Yes, it's political poetry. I’m passing down a message about how our forefathers lost their land because they weren't educated and lacked knowledge. We as a younger generation need to not have hatred for them, and we must forgive them. 
Q: When you write, do you feel like you are speaking mainly to your ancestors, your current community, or the generations yet to come?
A: My message is for my ancestors, my community and the people who need to hear a message. I try my best to portray a message that leaves a long-lasting impression and one that inspires hope and all things positive. 
Q: When performing, are you intentionally drawing out an emotional reaction from the audience?
A: When I perform, I read emotions first. The goal is to connect and I connect by getting their attention and amplifying whatever emotion they have in that current moment.
Q: For someone who doesn’t speak your language but hears you perform, what feeling or message do you hope they take away just from the sound of your voice? 
A: When I started to perform I used to get nervous, and for me that was strange because I have never had so many eyes watching me all at once and that type of attention was something that took me a while to get used to.

 

 

Senzeni na!

Ndisemthandazweni wengomso elimhlophe

Ndisempini namaphupho endifuna efezekisekile

Ndisenyeweni yokuba lixhoba lokucingela ingomso

Ndikumlambo! 

Nokuba selekunzima kangakanani na sulilahla ingomso,

Nokuba umi ndawoni na khumbula imvelaphi,

Imvelaphi yakho ikunika igunya lokuzazi ukuba uyaphi, ubuya phi;

Ndikulendawo nje bekuqale kwathini

Ndandisithi ndifunani, 

Mingaphi imitsi esele ndiyinyathele ukuze ndifike apha; 

Lingakanani ixesha endobe ndilichithile xa ndincama; 

Khumbula xa sele kunzima ngamandla. 

Ewe! Kunzima

Koko ndakuhlala phantsi akuphindi kubelula

Kwiindlela zakho sukuma nje esithubeni hambela; 

kubo bonke ubomi bakho ethembeni suphuncuka bambelela,

ngokholo lwakho nangemithandazo yakho qhubekeka. 

Ndimi phambi kwento ezazibizwa ngeentlanti;

ndizele inzondo kuba asizonto ngaphandle kweentlanti; 

salithengisa ilizwe leenkonde neenkondekazi emazweni; 

sazilahla iimfundiso zikantu sathabatha izikade zasemazweni; 

yiyolonto sesihleli nje sizizinto ezijongene nokufundiswa ubuntu bazo eliweni; 

ndinyembezana namhlanje ndililela abantu ebesibazi njengamadoda, 

abantu esasijolise ilizwe lethu kubo kanti ziingcuka ezombethe ufele 

kanti ngomacaleni iinto zomlambo

ndiqale ngaphi kuba ndiyoyika, 

ndoyika uba sisidumbu esinganamnini ngoba kwenzeka ngaphambili ndiyasola;

ewe lihambile ilizwe lethu 

lonke kunye namasiko ethu ndiyakhalima,

kuba savuma zabhebhethwa; 

lahlatywa ikhwelo ngaphambili kwathiwa ziyemka iinkomo magwala ndini, 

aphakama amadoda kanye nabafazi abanxibe imithawuzo sele kwenzekile 

Bambi bazamile kanti baziqhwayela ilitye elinembovane, 

okubi lohluthwa 

Lihambile ilizwe lethu – 

lonke kunye namasiko ethu ndiyakhalima 

Ndikhalima nje ize ngokuba amasiko akuthi yinto yodlala abantwana 

Nasebuhlanti kwaphatha iintombi kwakudala 

Isiko lamadoda yinyewe yabafazi egoqweni 

Ndibhidekile! 

What have we done

Translated by Lihle Luthwitsha

I’m in prayer for a brighter tomorrow

I’m at war with dreams I long to see fulfilled

I stand on the edge of becoming a victim of my own fears and assumptions about tomorrow

I am in the river

no matter how difficult it becomes, do not abandon tomorrow

no matter where you stand remember

where you come from your origin gives

you the authority to know where you are going and where you come from

as I stand here now, how did it all begin

What was it that I once said I wanted

how many steps have I taken to get here

how much time would I have wasted if I were to give up

Remember when it becomes unbearably hard

Yes! It is hard

but if I sit down it will never become easier

on your journey do not stand idle, move forward

throughout your life, do

not let go of hope, hold on tightly

With your faith and prayers keep going

I stand before what was once known as a kraal

I am filled with resentment

because without kraals we are nothing

we sold off our forefather’s and foremother’s countrylands to other countries

we abandoned our own teachings and embraced those of foreign nations

that is why we now sit at the edge of a cliff being taught our own humanity by strangers

today I’m in tears mourning those we once called men

people to whom

we entrusted our country only to discover that they were wolves in sheep’s skin

whereas they were siders, things of the river

where do I begin when I am afraid

I fear becoming an unclaimed corpse because it has happened before, I am

suspicious

– yes our country is gone

gone with it are our traditions

because we allowed them to be scattered by the wind

a whistle was sounded long ago that ‘the cattle are leaving, you cowards’

men and women rose in loinclothes but it was too late

some tried but they

overturned a rock full of ants

the bad news is ‘it was snatched still’

we have lost our country

all of it with our traditions I lament and rebuke

I am rebuking in

vain because our traditions are now child’s play

even in the kraal authority has shifted

to maidens

men’s traditions are now women’s woodpile

I am confused!