MBE MBHELE

In Tutuola’s Africa ^{[1]Tutuola, A., & Tutuola, A. (1994). The palm-wine drinkard ; and, My life in the bush of ghosts. New York: Grove Press.}, a young woman once sang for two days without stopping, the whole village wept as the young woman chanted & wailed. The people saw themselves through her song, they became bare in front of each other. Song does that, forces you to confront yourself, the often obscured parts of yourself. The young woman’s song carried memories of their forgotten pasts. It also showed them glimpses of visions from the future, both nightmarish and hopeful tomorrows.

E-Afrika yasemandulo kukhona intombazane eyahlabelela izinsiku ezimbili ingami. Isiqingi sonke sasilila ngenkathi lentombazane ihayiza, ikhihla isililo ngengoma. Abantu babezibona kulengoma, bazibona beze, besobala, babona amaqinso ngezimpilo zabo. Ingoma iyakwenza lokho, iyakwenza ukuba uzibheke, ubone lokho okufihlekile ngempilo yakho. Ingoma yentombazane yayiphethe izikhumbuzo zekusasa ebasebelikhohliwe. Lengoma yaphinde yabakhombisa ukuthi ikusasa labo lingahle libenjani, yabakhombisa ikusasa elithusayo kodwa elihamba nethemba.

But we do not have to begin there. We can begin with Tau ea Linare of the baSotho or BIBOC assembly of the Congo or even with Princess Magogo ka Dinuzulu. Because song moves through time, keeping its essence and evolving in essence. Not just any song but a particular song that finds expression in the depths of the margins. A song that dwells in the fringes of society, a rotten society and perhaps that is why the song wilfully remains in the crevices. Because, what can this song do with a corpse that continues to rot from within?

Kodwa asiphoqelekanga ukuba siqale emandulo. Singaqala noma ikuphi. Singaqala ngo Tau ea Linare yasezweni lakwa Sotho noma nge BIBOC assembly yako Congo. Singaphinde siqale khona la ezintabeni zoKhahlamba nge Nkosazana uMagogo ka Dinuzulu. Singakwenza ngoba ingoma iyikhathali ukuthi ikusiphi isikhathi, inqaba nje uma kuyiyona, ayinamona. Kodwa ungizwe kahle, la angikhulumi nganoma iyiphi ingoma. Ngikhuluma ngengoma ekhala ekuqhekekeni kwetshe. Ingoma ephuma emgedeni, ehlala emgedeni. Ingoma ezikhethele ukuhlala emgedeni ngoba iyothi ifunani ngaphandle, la khona kubole ukudlula amakhiwane? Iyothi ifunani ngaphandle, lapho khona konke okuphilayo kuvele kufe? Lengoma iyosenzani isidumbu esibolela ngaphakathi?

Maybe we can borrow coordinates from Mantombi Matotiyana’s debut solo offering to the black musical archive titled Songs of Greeting, Healing and Heritage. The album (a production of the Africa Open Institute) runs for just under an hour and gives more than it takes. The little that it takes it finds a way to compensate for. The project is aware of its strengths and itself as a condition of possibility but is also not asleep to its limitations. It is aware of what it can give and what it stands to lose. The preservation of heritage, the passing down of affected ways of life and traditions, alternative ways of communicating, of crying and of resisting. To do this though, it has to go through the unrelenting hand that commodifies, appropriates and continuously distorts. The hand has, from the initial contact done that. More frankly, there is no aspect of black culture in South Africa that was not radically affected by colonialism and much more recently apartheid. Mantombi invites us to think with her about the implications of this period of history that was without doubt mostly characterized by tragedy. A tragedy continuing, or, at the very least, permeating every moment of our present.

Kodwa imbeleko ayilahlwa ngakufelwa. Singaboleka ku Mantombi Matotiyana ukuthi asinikeze umhlahlandlela. Singafunda okuningi kwi rekhodi aliqophile elibizwa Songs of Greetings, Healing and Heritage (Izingoma zokubingelela, zokwelapha namasiko). Leli rekhodi (eliqophwe ngaphansi kwe Africa Open Institute) lidlala ihora elilodwa. Kulelihora elilodwa likunikeza okuningi kunalokho elikuthathayo. Kulokhu okuncane elikuthathayo liyakwazi ukuthola izindlela zokungezelela. Lerokhodi liyawazi amandla alo, liyazazi ukuthi kuningi elikufumbethe kodwa kunjalo nje liyakwazi elishoda ngakho. Liyazi ukuthi lingasiphani kodwa liyazi ukuthi ekusipheni lokho kuningi elingalahlekelwa yikho. Izingoma zikaMatotiyana zingumgcini wamasiko, zisikhumbuza imilando yethu ebalulekile, zisinikeza ezinye izindlela esingakhulumisana ngazo, izindlela zokukhuluma ngezinkinga esibhekene nazo. Izingoma zikaMatotiyana ziphinde zikhulume ngencindezelo kodwa ukuze zenze lokhu kumele zidlule esandleni esithatha singacelanga, esandleni esinamanga. Lesisindla kusukela ekufikeni kwaso emhlabeni wabathwa siyathatha futhi siyayona injobo. Lapha ngiqonde ukuthi ubuntu, ubuciko, amasiko nezindlela zokuphila zabantu abamnyama zaphazanyiswa ukuthathwa komhlaba wabo ngaphansi kombuso wencindezelo. UMantombi uyasimema ukuthi siphinde sicabangisise indlela lomlando, ongemuhle, uzithikazise ngakhona izimpilo zethu njengabantu abansundu. Uya sikhumbuza ukuthi lomlando usaqhubeka, okanye izinsalela zawo siyaqhubeka ukuzibona nanamuhla.

Matotiyana carves a story with 13 solo-items, the accompaniment: solo-instruments (Uhadi, Umrhube and Istolotolo). The story, not linear. The narrative, complex. The texture, coarse. Just as our histories have been and how our futures might be but remember, the future is not always guaranteed. ^{[2]Gabriel Letswalo ‘Our Kind of Song’}A future? For one who is not in control of his own tomorrow? Does that tomorrow even belong to him or her? There is no certainty that this constant gasping for air, the constant oscillation between undead and no-life will ever end. Matotiyana seems to have much to say about these uncertainties, but she is cryptic in her approach. A fugitive proper, dirtying the water to avoid the hand that always takes.

UMatotiyana usixoxela indaba ngerekhodi lakhe elinezingoma eziyishumi nantathu, lezingoma azihlabelela eyedwa ziphelezelwa uhadi, umrhube kanye nesitolotolo. Lendaba asixoxela yona ayiqondanga, inamajikojiko. Akulula ukuyihluza, ayikho bushelelezi. Lokhu kongoba imilando yethu nayo ayilula. Okungenzeka nekusasa lethu nalo lingabi lula, ukhumbule futhi ukuthi ikusasa aliqinisekile. Ikusasa, yini kona lokho? Sizoba nekusasa kanjani uma sengazilawuleli inamuhla lethu? Mhlawumbe lelokusasa akulona elethu. Lokucinana komphefumulo esikubiza impilo asinaso isiqiniseko sokuthi kuyoke kuphele. Lokhu kuthungatha sifuna lapho esiyophefumula khona ngokukhululeka asinaso isiqiniseko ukuthi siyoke sikuthole. UMatotiyana kuningi akushoyo ngalokhu kungaqiniseki kwethu, kodwa akasiniki izimpendulo eziqondile. Mhlawumbe ukwenza ngamabomu lokhu ngokuba ezama ukubalekela lesisandla esikhulume ngaso, isandla esithatha singacelanga.

The first song in the album Wachitheka Umzi Wendoda is an overtone cry of one who sees a house falling apart. Iyangqokola intombi yakwaMatotiyana about a house that has burnt into ashes. She alternates between seeing a burning house and not seeing the house all. The alternation is both symbolic of despair but also salvific. The house is not burning without reason. It is because of a man who is always marrying.

Of course the reading here is not literal. Mantombi’s lyrics are always laden with nuance and metaphor. The burning house refers to a society facing demise. Or a society that cannot recognize itself for it has chosen many ways that do not belong to it. Maybe not chosen but been coerced, nonetheless it seems that this society has married so much of its coercer that it has lost itself. It can no longer recognize its own physiognomy. The song has some redemptive elements. It suggests, as a solution maybe, that we ought to stop this marriage to things and ways foreign. But then what follows, do we divorce that which we have already married?

Ingoma yokuqala ithi Wachitheka Umzi Wendoda. Kulomqopho iyangqokola intombi yakwaMatotiyane ngendlu eshayo. Ikhihla isililo ngendlu echithekayo, indlu ephenduka umlotha. Isililo salentombi endala sisitshela izinto ezimbili: sisasenalo ithuba lokuwucisha lomlilo kodwa akuz’ukuba lula. Kunezinto okuzomele sizenze ukuze siwubhule lomlilo. Lentombi iyasitshela ukuthi indlu ayizisheli nje kodwa kunesizathu esenza ukuba lendlu ingqongqe. UMatotiyana usitshela ukuthi lendlu ingqongqa nje ingenxa yendoda esinamakhosikazi amaningi. Indoda eshada njalo. Kodwa ziningi izindlela zokufunda okukanye zokulalela ukuthi ithini kahle kahle lentombi. Lamazwi kaMantombi kumele siwabuke siwabukisise ngoba ajulile. Lomuzi oshayo akusiwo umuzi nje kodwa uMantombi ukhuluma ngesizwe esifayo. Isizwe esingasazazi ngokuba sesithathe okuningi okungasikho okwaso. Mhlawumbe asithathanga ngokuthanda kodwa siphoqiwe ukuba silahle konke okwaso, sishade okwabanye. Kodwa okuyiqiniso ukuthi sesishade kakhulu saze salahlekelwa ubuthina. Ubuso bethu asisabuboni noma sithi sizama ukuzibuka esibukweni. Kodwa amanzi awachithwa nendishi, sisengakwazi na ukuphuma kulemishado emining esizifake kuyo? Uma siphuma sizoyaphi?

I think not. Otherwise we would not have learnt any lessons from Nomfazwe of ePotshini, a small village oKhahlamba. In a tribunal full of men she stood up and protested, claiming her entitlement to the estate of her lying, dying and cheating husband who wanted to divorce her. It mattered not how much she hated him but the many years of hard labour, hewing and fetching water was not going to be forfeited. She resisted. Or maybe we must look at the slaves from the Mississippi Delta who said we are not leaving America. It has become our home. It is built on our backs and its flowers are watered with our blood and sweat. That’s the ‘brutality and the necessity’ ^{[3] Moten, F. (2017). Black and blur. at pg 217} of this marriage that Matotiyana has identified as the cause of our burning houses. It kills us but we cannot just abandon it because so much of us is woven into its fabric.

Ukukho lula ukuphuma nje kulemishado. Uma siphuma siyobe asifundanga lutho kuNomfazwe wasePotshini, isigodi esincane ngasezintabeni zoKhahlamba. Emhlanganweni ogcwele amadoda wasukuma washaya unyawo phansi, wathi uma indoda yakhe enaminga eliphixiphixi ifuna ukuhlukana naye kumela yazi kuthi uzohamba nengxenye yemfuyo nomcebo abanawo. Yathi lentombi enguNomfazwe yathi ayinandaba ukuthi bayazondana nothando alusekho kodwa yona ayizange isebenze iminyaka eminingi kangaka ipheka, itheza, igade umuzi isebenzela ubala nje. Mhlawumbe kumele sibheke izigqila zakoMississipi Delta nazo ezathi ngeke zilishiye izwe laseMelika. Bazolishiya baye kuphi? Ngoba iMelika yakhiwe phezu kwemigogodla yabo, izimbali zayo ziniselwe ngezithukuthuku zabo. Yingakho ngithi kuyobanzima ukushiya lemishado eminingi uMatotiyana asixwayisa ngayo. Umuzi uyasha kodwa ngeke sivele siwushiye ngoba ubuthina bukulo lelangabi elivuthayo.

When a mother cries her children feel it. Yes, we are not just a people always dancing around fires or at robots waiting for the next generous hand to roll down the window and give. We are certainly not just a woman, carrying a child on her back with a sickle cutting grass in the fields. Or Gugu standing in the corner of Goud and Mooi Street licking her lips, also waiting for the next car that will pass. We have other concerns, a set of complex relationships and ideas around what life should look like. Matotiyana articulates this rich experience eloquently on the song Xel’ Int’ Omke Ngayo. The song deals with heartbreak, the collapse of the family structure, its effect on the children and regret. Matotiyana weaves all of these issues together in a way that accents their connectedness. She beats umcinga on Uhadi in an almost inimitable way (with an exception of the few remaining Uhadi players such as Madosini and Dizu Plaaties who contributes to the album), a way that affirms the texture of the lyrics Xel’ into omke ngayo, Tshiya abantwana belila. (Tell me what made you leave, you have left the children crying.)

Uma umama engeneme ingane iyezwa egazini. Nakuye umama kuyalumela uma ingane yakhe ingeneme. Iqiniso, asibona abantu abahlala begida eziko okukanye abantu abahlala beme emgwaqeni belindele umuntu ozofika abaphe imali noma ukudla. Futhi, asiyona intombi ehlale ibeleke umntwana ihlakula ensimini. Okukanye intombi ihlala ime egaqweni ilindele umuntu ezoqwayiza kuyena. Izimpilo zethu zijulile kunalombala esipendwe ngawo. Ziningi izinto esizicabangayo, ubudlelwane esibakhayo nanokuthi ikusasa lethu silibona linjani. UMatotiyana uyakucacisa, akubeke sobala lokhukujula kwethu njengabantu abamnyama. Ingoma Xel’ Into Omke Ngayo ikhuluma ngokuphuka kwenhliziyo, ngokuqhekeka komndeni nokuthi lokuqhekeka kuzithinta kanjani izingane. Lengoma iphinde ikhulume ngokuzisola. Intombi endala yakwaMatotiyana ikuhlanginisa konke lokhu esibhekana nakho njengabantu ngendlela ekhombisa ubudlelwane bakho. Ushaya Uhadi ngendlela engingakaze ngiyibone (Ngaphandle koMadosini no Dizu Plaaties), uwushaya uhadi wakhe ngendlela ezikhulumelayo ukuthi ngempela Xel’ into omke ngayo, Tshiya abantwana belila.

In Molweni she explores the hermeneutics of the self, the oft misinterpreted and grossly abused African ‘ethic’ of Ubuntu. ‘I only know that I exist as Umuntu because of those around me, because I see them therefore I know I am alive’. Molweni is an antithesis to the Cartesian method which anchors modern (western) philosophy. But is this still so? Colonialism was not only a violent occupation and exploitation of our land. It also imposed a culture, values, ways of thinking and knowing that were the complete opposite of our version of life on earth. Wen’ UseGoli? There you will receive no love, cries Mantombi. It is always bustle and rustle, people trying to survive without any concern for the next person. Where the so-called ‘Ubuntu’ is in dearth or perhaps even completely non-existent. The market, where thing are sold and bought, spirits and souls alike. 

Ingoma ithi Molweni uMatotiyana ubheka Ubuntu bethu. Ubuntu lobu osebuthathwe ngabaningi bakuphendula, bakuxovaxova. Ubuntu obuthi ngingumntu ngenxa yalabo engiphila nabo, labo abaseduzane nami. Ingoma Molweni iphikisana nemfundiso yapheshaya ezama ukusitshela ukuthi siyazi ukuthi siyaphila ngoba siyacabanga, uMatotiyana uthi siyaphila ngenxa yokuthi sibona abanye bephila. Kodwa Ubuntu bethu abusufani. Abelungu uma befika ezweni lethu abathathanga umhlaba kuphela kodwa baqiniseka ukuthi basinika amasiko abo, izindlela zabo zokucabanga kanye nezindlela zabo zokwazi. Izindlela lezi abasinaka zona zihlukile kunezethu, okusho ukuthi baguqula ubuthina. Uma uMatotiyana ekhala ethi Wen’ UseGoli, uzothola uthando olubandayo usuke ezama ukuchaza lokhu.  EGoli lapho khona abantu bengakhathalelani, behlala begijima bezama ukuhlanganisa impilo, ngaphandle kokukhathalela omunye umuntu. EGoli lapho khona Ubuntu sebuphelile nya, lapho khona konke kusendalini-izimpilo kanye nemiphefumulo yabantu.

But, would our God let that be? Does she hear our prayers? Maybe we have changed so much and she can no longer recognize us. Or, we have lost our Language and she can no longer hear us. If she did why would she let her children lay on the scale like pigs to be butchered and sold? Mantombi calls upon God on Somandla. She reminds her that where we cannot help ourselves we look up to her to intervene. Mantombi insists that when we are ready to admit that we can no longer walk on our own we must follow the spirit, and when the spirit has spoken we must listen. Umoya uthethile assures us that our concerns are not that of materiality only, but we are a spiritual people. An ‘accumulation of flesh’ ^{[4]Hartman, S. V. (1997). Scenes of subjection: Terror, slavery, and self-making in nineteenth-century America.} or ‘socially dead’ ^{[5]Wilderson, F. B. (October 01, 2015). Social Death and Narrative Aporia in 12 Years a Slave. Black Camera: an International Film Journal (the New Series), 7, 1, 134-149} ? Perhaps, but the inescapable ‘zone of non-being’ ^{[6]Fanon, F., Philcox, R., & Appiah, A. (2008). Black skin, white masks.at pg 2} is not the only zone we traverse.

Kodwa uThixo uthini uma sizithola esimeni esinjena? Ingabe uyayizwa yini imithandazo yethu? Noma sesishintshe ngalendlela yokuthi akasasiboni nokusibona? Noma mhlawumbe sesilahlekelwe izilimizethu akasasizwa uma sikhuluma naye? Ukube uyasizwa ebengakwenza kanjani ukuthi asiyekelele njengezingulube ziyobulawa beseziyodayiswa? UMantombi ukhala kuSomandla. Uyamazisa ukuba kulobishi esikulo sidinga yena ukuba asitakule. Uphinde asikhumbuze ukuthi uma sesizimisele ukuvuma ukuba lendlela iyahlaba futhi ngeke siyihambe sodwa kumele silandele umoya. Uma umoya usukhulumile kumele silalele. Umoya uthethile uyasikhumbuza ukuthi izinkinga esibhekene nazo akusizo ezomhlaba kuphela kodwa ezabaphansi, ezomoya. Asibona abantu benyama nje kodwa singabantu bezulu, baphezulu. Umhlaba akuyona kuphela indawo esiphila kuyo kodwa siphinde sibengabantu bomkhathi.

There exists the metaphysical and the ancestral realm that Mantombi takes us to in the song Kubuhlungu ukugula, reminding us of the importance of listening to the ground. Of heading the ancestral call, because

Uyasithatha asise emkhathini uMatotiyana ngengoma yakhe ethi Kubuhlungu ukugula, uyasikhumbuza ukubaluleka kokulalela abaphansi uma bekhuluma nathi, ngoba,

the dead only die when they decide

deep down in the deadly falls of howick

there is a snake, a seer and a relic

i fear neither the seer nor the serpent, but the one to whom I am going to confide.

abangasekho bafa uma bethanda

ngaphansi kwezimpophomo zako howick

kunenkanyamba, isibonakaliso nesikhumbuzo

angesabi inkanyamba nesikhumbuzo kodwa ngesaba engiyomutshela lodaba, lenkulumo

the seer has already told me that you have decided not to die

you are going to be a mantle that reminds us of the texture of our ankles before the shackles

what we looked like when we were still the people of the sky

but who shall believe me when i speak of dead men who refuse to die

isibonakaliso sesikucacisile ukuthi angeke usafa

uyoba luqwhweqhwe, oluyosikhumbuza ukuthi amaqakala ethu ayenjani engakafaswa ngamaketangu

ukuthi ubuso bethu babunjani ngenkathi sisasengabantu basemkhathini

kodwa ubani oyongilalela uma ngikhuluma ngabantu abangasekho kodwa abangavumi ukufa

you are going to put the snake to eternal sleep using your strings

your bow, your solos, a symphony

children will rejoice upon recognizing your 8 pulse harmony

they will run across the dusty streets of eMkhomazi

and cry ‘oh Mangwanya’

thank you for rescuing us from their terror

peace bearer who broke all barriers

from Tsolo to Ntuzuma.

uyolalisa inkanyamba ngezintambo nobuciko bakho

umrhubhe wakho, izwi lakho liyozwakala nakwezizayo izinsuku

izingane ziyojabula uma usucikoza ngephimbo lwakho

bayogijima izwe lonke

futi, bayomemeza bathi ‘oh Magwanya’

siyabonga ukusitakula kulolubishi esikulo

wena oza nokuthula kodwa ebe enqamula amaketangu

kusukela eTsolo kuya eNtuzuma

who will believe me when i tell them that the rivers might dry if we refuse to return Embo?

where will our cattle go when they are thirsty?

which horns are we going to mount on our rondavels?

what will happen to our shrines?

kodwa ubani oyongilalela ngempela uma ngibatshela ukuthi kuyosha imifula neziziba uma singabuyeli Embo?

ziyowaphuza kuphi amanzi izinkomo zethu?

siyofaka izimpondo zaslwane siphi endlini kagogo?

kuyokwenzekalani ngemisamu yethu?

here i am trying to paint a portrait of a woman in a liminal space

of  igqiga, screaming and running, carrying important messages from the past.

the bow next to her breast, headwrap and umqungu causing vibrations

i am trying to say something to a Boy in Houghton and Long Street.

lapha ngizama ukudweba isithombe sentombi endala, engahleli

esegqirha, limemeza libaleka, lisiphathele imiyalezo ebalulekile.

uhadi eduze kwebele, iduku nomgunqu uzamazamisa umhlaba

ngizama ukukhuluma neBhungu lase Houghton nase Long Street.

This is music and if we listen close enough we might hear something,

important whispers.

Lona ngumculo, uma singalalelisisa kukhulu esingakuzwa

kubalulekile esizokuzwa

Vukani and hear the whispers.

Vukani nilalelisise.

This is a call to all of us because Matotiyana, even if from Xhosa descent her music tramples those limitations. In many ways her music unshackles itself from the boundaries that are created by categorization. Like Mackey often suggests, Matotiyana’s work must be set free from the idea of genre which is usually an ‘impediment to social and aesthetic mobility’. ^{[7]Nathaniel Mackey ‘Paracritical Hinge’ at pg 368 on Fischlin, D., & Heble, A. (2004). The other side of nowhere: Jazz, improvisation, and communities in dialogue. Middletown, Conn: Wesleyan University Press.} Matotiyana’s uhadi has travelled throughout Africa as ugubhu of the Zulu people and thomo for the South Sotho people, therefore how dare do we lock it within a particular locale or culture? We must allow it to ‘promote embodied interaction and dialogue between people with disparate personal and cultural histories’. ^{[8]Jason Stanyek ‘Transmissions of an Interculture: Pan-African Jazz and Interculture Improvisation’ at pg 87 on Fischlin, D., & Heble, A. (2004). The other side of nowhere: Jazz, improvisation, and communities in dialogue. Middletown, Conn: Wesleyan University Press.} After all, the issues she raises are issues that we as people in the margins are all grappling with. There is an undisputable commonality and relation between us that Songs of Greeting, Healing and Heritage seem to be addressing.

Vukani nilalelisise. Kuleculo uMatotiyana ukhuluma nathi sonke, noma umculo wakhe ungowokudabuka kwaXhosa kodwa awupheleli lapho. Imiyalezo yakhe ifana nenkomo eyeqa isbaya, uyifuni ukuhlala endaweni eyodwa. Umculo wakhe uyahamba, uyabhenguza ufuna izindlebe ezizolalela. Uhadi lwakhe seluyihambe yonke iAfrika, abakwazulu balubiza ugubu abakwa Sotho bayibitsa thomo. Singawubiza kanjani ke loMculo umculo wakwaXhosa? Kumele siwuvumele uhambe ngoba imiyalezo ewuphethe uyasithinta sonke singabansundu. Izingoma Zokubingelela, Zokulapha Namasiko zisithinta sonke.

We should also take from Oliver Lake’s Separation

One music-diff feelings & experience, but same … the total sound – mass sound – hear all players as one

In Matotiyana’s Africa there is a lot that has gone wrong but she sets us on a journey to find what it is. We might not be able to fix it possibly because it is beyond repair. But in our inevitable despair we must always seek to remember and maybe from that memory we can create something out of this ruin. Her work is born out conditions of constraints but it fights for its life, to give us something. Songs of Greeting, Healing and Heritage are a ‘problem, a question, posed and thereby revealing an agency that is interdicted’. ^{[9]Moten, F. (2017). Black and blur. at pg 67} Her work is a truly welcome contribution to the genealogy of black musical practices.

Kuningi okonakele kodwa uMatotiyana uyasinxusa ukuthi sithole ukuthi konakala kuphi. Kungenzeka singafiki emthonjeni walapho konakele khona kodwa akulahlwa mbeleko ngakufelwa. Kumele sizame ngakho konke okusemandleni ethu ukukhumbula mhlawumbe singakhona ukwakha kabusha. Umsebenzi wakhe uphuma endaweni yomzabalazo kodwa uyazilwela, ulwela ukuphila. Ingakho siwubonga futhi siwamukela lomsebenzi njengabantu abansundu.