ARYAN KAGANOF

The last time I saw Bra Fiks was at the opening of that exhibition in the Pretoria art gallery of the art works that the Australian Embassy returned to south africa in 2004. He was so terribly angry. An Australian journalist asked him how he felt and he said to the man, bitingly, “How would you feel if one of your children was returned to you?” He hated that it was still called “township art” and he hated the whole bullshit ceremony. He talked for a while with Bra’ Geoff Mphakati. The two of them, I felt, really understood the politics of the art scene much more deeply than anyone else. It was a strikingly sad occasion that the whites were trying to turn into a ceremony of victory. Victory for whom?

Then at Fikile’s memorial service upstairs at the Market Theatre in Newtown Bra’ Geoff spoke bitingly about the ANC and especially the Department of Culture and how it had let artists, including Fikile, down so badly. And then suddenly I was at Bra’ Geoff’s funeral. It all went very quickly.

But my best memory of Fikile was in Yeoville at one of Eric Miyeni’s tuesday poetry readings. For some reason he started talking to me and I bought him a black label and he had a very wry sense of humour (bitter humour I might add) and we listened to the poems together but they were not good poems that night and Fikile went off, disgusted, thanking me for the beer.

Every other time I saw him, in Yeoville or elsewhere in Joburg, he always looked very sad. Motlhabane Mashiangwako spoke very highly of Fikile. But now Motlhabane is dead too. That entire generation seems to have passed, way too early.

FIKILE MAGADLELA 13 December 1952 – 2003