note eds there
This isn’t the Editor’s Note I thought I’d write this week. The plan – to plan, the one thing that no human can do, even if it is useless – is to spend this space writing about the extraordinary story of Mary Corrigall celebrating a decade of the Investec Cape Town Art Fair.
I want to talk about how I went to #ICTAF for the first time in 2013, when I edited True Love magazine. The excitement is palpable but the fair is not what it used to be, attracting local and international art investors.
And as I prepare to head to Cape Town this week, to attend the countless exhibitions and talks around the city during the fair, I’m proud to see its growth over the years.
But that’s not the Editor’s Note I’m after.
February is my birthday month, so I’m hoping to make up for it from last year’s fiasco. The plan – I heard the god sniggering – was to fly to Cape Town on his birthday, after getting his hair done in Joburg, and end up posting a sundowner beach picture with a spritz of Aperol strategically placed in the background.
But life has no Instagram filters; Shit escalates quickly and without warning. However, I was late in the salon, I missed my flight password – and when I sat morosely with braided hair, imagining the plane leaving OR Tambo – I got the news that Riky Rick had died. What a birthday it is.
I ended up spending the day alone, eating lunch at Glenda’s like a sad loser, wanting to cry but not sure who to cry for and what exactly. Riky’s death was so painful that I mentally canceled last year’s birthday.
So, a lot is riding on this birthday, but then again, my birthday month isn’t quite the birthday month it should be, I’m afraid.
The day before I got the news of AKA’s (Kiernan Forbes) death, I called my close friend and designer Hangwani Nengophela and we discussed the 25th anniversary of the Style Awards and what I could expect from the Rubicon ensemble. use it for them.
It will be a great night – Khuli Chana is nominated and I am excited for him after the release last month of the single Prada, a collaboration with Kiernan. All my stories are there, I want to see Zoe Modiga and Mandisi Dyantyis at Constitution Hill. This is going to be a great weekend, I thought to myself.
But after returning from dinner on Saturday night, I went to Twitter as usual and I scrolled through the retweets about Kiernan and his former manager, Tebello “Tibz” Motsoane, who died in Durban. My initial thought was that it was a joke – Twitter likes to kill people while they’re still alive – or a prank. Optimistically, I hope people are fooled and this is another hoax because Supa Mega is scheduled to release Nation of Mass on February 24th. However, as the night progressed, it became clear that Kiernan really wasn’t there. The plan had to be changed again and the weekend was spent in tears, disbelief and sadness.
That Friday night, I left Shingai Darangwa a voice note before midnight, asking him to write a tribute. The deadline was tight but he managed to do this. He answered immediately. It seems that the country cannot sleep.
My heart goes out to the fans, but news – like life – doesn’t stop just because you’re sad. I kicked into editor mode, robotically going through my to-do list: cover, image and layout. But the human and hip-hop fan in me is reeling. I spent the weekend dodging leaked CCTV footage. I can’t bear to look.
I went through a picture from a night at PAUL a couple of years ago with my friend Palesa Madumo sitting with Tibz and aunt Lerato and they told us about the newly established wine brand. My memory pushed me back to last year at the South African Fashion Week launch party watching Kiernan and Nadia Nakia love each other before exiting the Sandton venue, hand in hand like hip-hop royalty. They are not avatars, these are real people.
When I finally got up the courage to watch the footage on Monday, I felt nauseous, thinking of my daughter Cairo seeing such a bad time. I went from cognitive dissonance to sheer bewilderment. I post that I feel like we’re in a simulation.
I’ve spent a lot of time over the past few days thinking about what to write to express the pain I’ve been feeling this week. Not because AKA is an angel – as our cover story says, his redemption story is abbreviated – but because I’m starting to wonder if revenge can fill the void left by grief.
I interrogate my own relationship with forgiveness and whether I give people the grace to make mistakes, return from them, no matter how much I have hurt. I don’t know where I stand yet. I move between present and past tenses because I’m in transition. I am between states of mind and waver between peace and anger.
There is no doubt that Kiernan is a certified hitmaker, a natural born talent and an incredibly complex individual. (Tibz has problems too). He bridges geographical gaps and paints a picture with his words but he is also human.
Kiernan, like all of us, deserves grace, forgiveness and mercy. I hope he knows something, he’s here, he’s loved and he’s Mega. His last words were: “Where I go, you go.” And he was right, we will carry him in our hearts forever. Long live Megacy!