Nqobile Dludla

I’ve always had an idea of what I’d say if I were to be interviewed by Oprah (ambitious yeah), you know, what kind of a person I am, my short term and long term goals etc…..and then I started blogging (Good Lord) did I go blank when I had to try and tell you guys about myself and what my blog is about.

Well, I’m an aspiring investigative journalist stuck in a sports journalist’s body, I know right. The conflict…..I’ve always liked the idea of being an investigative journalist. This passion was instilled in me by one of the greatest South African investigative journalists I know, Sunday Times’ Mzilikazi wa Afrika.

Sundays at my house are not just reserved for church. They are also reserved for filling and updating our minds on what happened throughout the week with a Sunday dosage of Sunday Times, Sunday Tribune or City Press. Sunday Times is a MUST for my Dad.

You just cannot comprise, you might as well go to their site and print out the latest articles and compile them properly for my Dad (Thank goodness he hasn’t suggested that…yet).

Anyway, it was one of those chilled Sundays in which I discovered the hard to ignore, thought provoking articles of Mzilikazi. I knew from that point onwards that I want to write just like him, be fearless just like him, and get people talking just how he so perfectly managed to do along with his team.

Although it seems cliche to say, at that very moment I realised that there were still untold stories that needed to be discovered and told. I imagined the often ignored people from Kombuzi, a village in Nongoma, Kwamaqwakazi, a village in Eshowe, I desperately yearned to hear what people from those villages had to say…..but I couldn’t hear them nor see them.

It was not because I closed my eyes everytime I went to visit my grandmother Kombuzi, or put on earphones everytime I went to visit my Dad’s childhood village Kwamaqwakazi. They have so much to say and yet no one is listening. So much to show but their beliefs are cast aside as myths or magic.

Stories of people lured towards (sometimes inside) a dam by the much feared and respected water snakes are stories that keep the community close and talking. They are not worried about what new policy U.S. President Barack Obama approved, they are worried about their children’s safety from the water snake. It is such communal stories that need to be amplified. Our society is losing that ability to tell folk stories by using idioms our grandmothers used. What happened to those stories? I still want to hear those stories, and therefore I’m on an unapologetic mission to amplify the voices of the voiceless, MAKE THOSE VOICES HEARD….

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