Brown Sugar

When did I fall in love with Hip Hop?

 I don't know.

 I wish my story read like that of Sydney Shaw in Brown Sugar, but it doesn't. An exact day and an exact moment of realisation would be too far-fetched for me. My memory stretches back to a time when my cousin would want to record hip hop on my empty VHS tapes that I had saved for recording movies and series on tv. He is older than me, so his authority ruled. I was inundated with the East Coast/West Coast battles and through peer pressure and propaganda; I chose the West side as a "rap-team" I would support. And then Tupac died.

 I was on my way to school, listening to the radio and the jock announced that Pac was no more. I can't explain the shift that occurred in me. I began grieving for a man I didn't know. An unfinished poem. I later discovered his poetry in "The rose that grew from concrete" and realised that with him, it had always been about what he was saying and how he delivered it; not so much who he was dissing and the drama that evolved around all that. Rap. Rhythm and poetry. It began making sense to me.

 More than anything in Hip Hop, I love beats. When I heard Nicolay's beat to "Nic's Groove" on The Foreign Exchange's "Connected" album, I melted. And then one day on radio, I heard Little Brother's "Good Clothes". 9th Wonder is a gem with such soulful beats it's like they don't even touch the instruments that they portray; they float. *goosebumps*...years later, I got properly introduced to Little Brother and The Foreign Exchange...and Phonte. I didn't know who the boy was but I put his verses on repeat all the time. An effortless flow with a strong voice and solid lyrical content. Phonte Coleman soon put a face to something I've always battled in finding...my favourite MC. Hip Hop and I have never really had a love/hate relationship. It has been with me since I was 12, and I've never not loved it. Since the days when I saw the colourful "Hit Em Up" video on repeat everyday til my cousin could recite the lyrics and I did the beat and chorus, it has been the only constant in my life. Hip Hop has gone through so many changes, commercially, and having discovered a sound I could relate to, finally, was exhilarating. I have heard about how we should accept the change in mainstream Hip Hop. I can't. I'm stuck in a specific sound. I listen to the new music that is out there but my preference is the mellow jazzy Hip Hop. The type that feels like it is telling a story through the perfectly created beats, well-written lyrics and trance-inducing poetry. 

 So, when did I fall in love with Hip Hop? I can't pin point a date or an era. Hip Hop is and always has been the perfect verse over my heart beat. I just woke up one day and knew where my soul's home was.

The Reigning Queen

The Balobedu people of the Limpopo province in South Africa have (since the 1800s) had a firm belief that their Rain Queen Modjadji had special powers amongst which was the power to control the clouds and therefore, rainfall. Wikipedia states that her "mystical rain making powers are reinforced by the beautiful garden which surrounds her royal compound. Surrounded by a parched land, her garden contains the world's largest cyad trees which are in abundance under a spectacular rain belt". There hasn't been a rain queen since 12 June 2005, following the death of Queen Makobo Modjadji. I won't get into the nitty gritty of the drama that that family is facing.

After over 150 days without rain, we had our first Spring Rain in Johannesburg today. It was short-lived but we enjoyed it and tweeted about it all afternoon.

But before we get into that, let's rewind back to 26 years ago when, in the Kwatlhai household, my mothers water broke in the middle of a mourning period. Born June 21st on a rainy Thursday, I came into the world two days before my grandfathers' funeral. My mom had always wanted to name me Palesa (flower) but because of the circumstances of my birth, she didn't want me to have a name synonymous with darkness which in this case would be a wreath. Other family members suggested "Dikeledi" (tears) and others wanted me to be named after my grandfather. Mom wouldn't have it. She and dad decided to name me Motlalepule (the one who came with rain/rain maker) and later explained to me the rain (blessing) that I came with washed away their tears from having lost a loved one.

I thought it was very poetic that I would have my first post on a rainy Spring Thursday evening like the first breath I took 26 years ago, on a rainy Winter Thursday morning.

My name is Motlalepule Kwatlhai, welcome to my world of words; a kingdom where I am the Reigning Queen.