“Wait, they call me Shallipopi Pluto presido,” Shallipopi sings his song Evil Receive as he roams the front stage of Brixton Electric. Fans cluster and huddle below, yelling back lyrics to him with confidence and conviction in their breath. Cameras flash brightly, sparkling across the venue, and there's an exhilarating feeling in the air. “Receive enter wallet!” the audience chants back to Shallipopi. This euphoric reaction from fans comes amid his swift rise to the top of the Nigerian music industry in just under 12 months. The Edo rapper, singer, and songwriter dons black shades, exuding an aura of enigma and mystery as he dances across the stage, flanked by two female dancers on either side. The energy in the venue is charged up. Throughout the night, attendees synchronised in movement, moving left to right while doing the viral Shallipopi Pluto dance that picked up traction across TikTok and other social media platforms. Ahead of his London show at Electric Brixton, the 23-year-old rapper intimately reveals that his song Evil Receive is his most cherished musical creation, perhaps explaining why he opened his show with it. The song delves into the themes of status, money and wealth, with his lyrics' brush strokes unveiling a poignant desire for financial prosperity, interwoven with commentary on the shadows that accompany such worldly triumphs. “I love the song because I can relate to it,” he says, before adding that he wanted this to show in his delivery, “it's like I'm talking to you on the song.” After dropping his debut album Presido La Pluto towards the end of 2023, the music scene was set ablaze with his unrelenting bangers such as Ex-Convict, Elon Musk, and Cast, featuring the powerhouse Odumodublvck, which took the last quarter of the year by storm. But it was his song Elon Musk, which crawled to the number one spot of the Nigerian Top 100 Apple Music charts that propelled him to new heights, landing him a remix with Zlatan and Fireboy DML. His inspiration behind Elon Musk is not mere admiration; the song's creativity was fueled by society’s response to social media, scrolling through his 'For You' Page, and the pressure of the current times we’re all indulging within. “It's not that Elon Musk is anything to me — that's just the type of songs I make. I make songs based on what is happening around me,” he says. “ There was one situation with Elon Musk with Twitter [X], So I just did a song about him; it was based on experience and reality; it's not that serious stuff.” “Social change and my music, I don't think they’re close to each other,” he says. “My music is for fun and to get your mind off troubles.” Shallipopi's vantage point is where musical notes and political dialogues tread separately but are in parallel paths. “Social change and my music, I don't think they’re close to each other,” he says. “My music is for fun and to get your mind off troubles.” He purposefully endeavours to provide a sanctuary for listeners to find a sort of escapism during societal turbulence. From the experimentation of his first EP, Planet Pluto, to the audacious exploration encapsulated in his first studio album, Presido La Pluto, both projects become a chapter in the tale of his creative evolution. “The first EP was experimenting with sounds,” Shallipopi reveals. “Even the album was experimenting; it was testing if this sound would work. But from now the stuff I will be dropping will be serious now.” Presido La Pluto is his proclamation of versatility and diversity. “The message I was trying to pass to my audience is that I can test different sounds, and it would work,” he says. “I wanted to let them know I've arrived.” When asked about his hit song Cast featuring Odumodublvck he responds, “when your song is catchy, you know it's going to blow up.” He then adds, “I make my songs as catchy as possible so it's easy to learn even if you don't understand the meaning.” Like rare gems scattered across alluvial gravel, it can be challenging for Nigerian artists from Edo State to cultivate a foundation in the scene. “Right now, we’re just getting recognised,” Shallipopi admits. He understands that it is essential that artists like him from Benin City become architects of their growth, creating a sound that mirrors their cultural and personal perspectives. “You know an artist is known and will last when there is growth,” he says assertively. “I think from 2022 up to now, the only thing that has changed [in my musical journey] is growth.” Shallipopi’s music creatively embodies Benin City's stories and traditions. The city's spirit becomes the unseen collaborator for Shallipopi, whispering narratives in each verse and chorus. “Everything about me is from Benin City: my attitude, my sound, my music, my accent, so pretty much everything is influenced by Benin City,” he admits with glee in his eyes. The Edo star comes from a family lineage of Kingmakers better known as the Uzama in the Benin Kingdom. They’re among the highest-ranking chiefs responsible for anointing new sovereigns in the kingdom. Shallipopi uses his background as a pedestal to navigate Edo culture and legacy in his music. “My song Obapluto has a lot of cultural stuff inside and represents Edo State,” says Shallipopi. “It's so that people know this is where I'm from, Benin City, so they would not be misled on where I'm from.” When speaking on the longevity and impact of his music, Shallipopi discerns the complexities between artistic expansion and the sustained longing of his audience, acknowledging that not all artists navigate this dynamic journey successfully. Shallipopi's gaze extends into the future, envisioning a trajectory where growth, by the grace of the divine, becomes inevitable. “Longevity depends on your growth; not all artists grow, and people get tired of you. I hope a few years from now, by God's grace, I should grow, and my fans grow with me,” Shallipopi shared. “I want to be more international than this.”

King Kerby has been a key player in the Kenyan music industry, and has solidified himself as a lyrical master over years now. The proud South C native (home of greats such as E-Sir) now enters a new consciousness with his third studio album ‘SABA’, the first under his company Zama Sessions. SABA, which translates to Seven in Kiswahili, is said to be a divine number that offers a sense of purpose to those that resonate with it. The album is an 8 track offering that boasts a collaboration between Kenya and South Africa, through artists Ta Eish who’s been steadily making waves in the HipHop scene in South Africa, gracing stages like Cottonfest, as well as up and coming songstress O’Hara who we hear throughout the project. “The record is called Saba because that is the number of divine alignment and purpose. This is my superstar era and I want to hug it as tightly as possible. The music, business, and all my actions reflect this because the inner work has been done and now the music can thrive off that” Wengi, the first song on the album, is also the first single released about a month before the project dropped along with a music video shot by South African Mvjor Plv. It starts the project off with drill beats put together by Cape Town based producers Zino D and Ldbeats - the high energy introduction letting us know that it is a new era for King Kerby, and that he’s coming in heavy while still staying retaining his smooth nature. Having taken the time to work on his craft, he no longer feels the need to prove himself to anyone anymore and that he’s simply going to let the work speak for itself.  Perhaps the album opener is a callback to his first drill song YKTD with Big Yasa, produced by RVMP of XPRSO, which carries with it similar energy and message. “If niggas aint worthy, we do not engage,  we’ve been out the way, stay in our lane, they be shooting bullets but they fire from a cage” Out The Way is where we first get to hear Ta Eish on the project. Eish delivers a catchy hook that complements Kerby’s lyricism and general feel good energy of the song with its subtle but present cockiness. The story of confidence in his journey continues on in Flow So Cold, which is embellished with O’Hara’s sultry vocals in her verse and chorus. Their voices blend delightfully together in this song, and in the rest of the tracks that they show up together. Possibly the sonic and visual fan favourite, Re-Align has a bounce that the other songs don’t have and a music video graced with lyrical dancers, which encompass the feeling of the song forthrightly. For his audience, I think this is the most relatable song too. Known for his conscious view of life, through his holistic and wellness business Uzima Network and personal practices,  Re-Align talks about just that. In this song and the album generally, Kerby reminds us that the journey to alignment and genuine self expression is not easy in the slightest, but is wholly rewarding and fulfilling to the soul. Oceans also touches on the topic of dealing with the motions of his artistry and philosophical outlook on life. He reiterates that he is imperfect just like the rest of humanity and is bound to make mistakes despite our perception of him or what we see on social media. Oceans has a melancholic tone to it and is the most vulnerable track delivered on the album. He mentions past trauma, seeking therapy and the fear of judgement despite it all. Before SABA, Kerby released an EP called Accra Nights where he chronicles his travels to Ghana. He does this again in Hapa Kule and Summertime, which both speak to the physical journeys Kerby took to grow his artistry and build his network in the last year. Hapa Kule asserts his globe-trotting tendencies and the impact that change of scenery has had on him and his work. Summertime follows up this chain of thought; it speaks to the changes that come with the different phases of life as one grows, leaving things and people behind, feeling a sense of nostalgia, and the intense but inevitable result of growing pains. Here we get to hear all three artists on the same track in such a cohesive way that you almost miss it. By the time we get near the end of the album, the familiarity of the voices is comforting in a way that sounds like an epilogue of a story. The last song Furnace is a short and sweet reggae infused interlude cum outro, probably teasing the continuation of his superstar chapter. Taking in the pain and transmuting it into something positive for himself. King Kerby sounds good on reggae, and so does O’Hara, so that would be something compelling to look forward to as well. SABA is an album about growth. The opportunities as well as the obstacles presented by such growth and having the faith that all will be well. King Kerby boasts confidence in a uniquely vulnerable way. The album is accompanied by really great music videos pursued as a collective effort between Kenyan and South African video directors and producers. It seems there’s more visuals from the album making their way to us, so keep a keen eye out.

To speak about street art is to speak about space. In territories like present-day Palestine or Apartheid-era South Africa, space becomes political; a tool to oppress, to deny, to silence. So when street artists occupy denied territory, to occupy space is grand protest. It’s also worth asking ourselves whose interests are being promoted, and at what cost to the fabric of true artistry, when commercial organisations and big money use street art for their gain. The fresh paint fumes fill the mid-afternoon air. Since the morning, graffiti artists have been making their way up and down the giant pillars supporting the M1 highway in Newtown, Johannesburg, to paint the town red. And blue. And black. And whatever other colour palette their Montana spray paints will allow. When the day ends, there will be complete pieces rendered by Jozi's graffiti artists, revered and unknown alike. Painting the pillars with new pieces has become somewhat of a yearly practice during Back to the CIty, an urban festival which, until COVID-19 flipped the switch on the world, would take place on April 27th, South Africa’s Freedom Day. It’s been held in October for the past two years, and features music performances, food and clothing stalls, and about 15 000 people seeking stimulation. In months to come, 12 to be exact, people of all sorts will interact with the art on some level. There'll be tourists and Instagrammers keen to leave with a portion of inner-city beauty; religious adherents returning from church on Sunday afternoons; construction workers; and recyclers like Mpho, whom I met recently while visiting the area for the umpteenth time since Back to the City. He’s from White City in Soweto and earns a living from collecting boxes and exchanging them for some change at a depot nearby. He becomes immediately animated when the focus shifts from him and how he earns his living, to the graffiti. He speaks of an artist who offered to spray paint his carriage one day and how that made him happy. Brazillian artist Mundano’s Carroceiros project immediately comes to mind. Mudano has visited South Africa to speak about his project, which has helped change negative public perception towards recyclers in Sao Paulo. Mpho points at his favourite piece on the pillars, a psychedelic rendition of a woman’s face painted in purple and blue tones, and says that he just likes how “far out” it looks. How do  people in different settings across the city relate to public art? A shoemaker who set up shop directly in front of the pillars in Newtown expressed no interest in the colourful shapes and figures in front of him. He no longer even notices them. "I'd still be here even if it wasn't there," he says. It’s beneath the M1 pillars that D’bongz Mahlathi’s striking portraits of South African music legends live. What was initially homage to South African jazz greats – the likes of jazz vocalist and teacher Sibongile Khumalo and the grand spectre of South African jazz excellence Kippie Moeketsi – has turned into a shrine honouring South African musicians past and recent. Urban Zulu Maskandi spiritualist Busi Mhlongo shares space with AKA and Riky Rick, two acclaimed rappers whose tragic deaths left countless followers shocked and reeling. In a city filled with murals and tags at every corner, the educational and political potential of street art can be drowned out by the noise. There are tons of dope artwork, elaborate in both design and execution, but very thin on intent – not that art should always serve political means. But in a city with as rich a past as Johannesburg, with a broad range of inhabitants from all reaches of the African continent and world, it’s worth it to consider how the art exists in relation to its immediate community. Mahlathi is attempting to situate his art and render his characters in a way that reflects their environment. That Kippie Moeketsi has a mural in Newtown, a stone's throw away from Kippies, a jazz club whose building still stands despite having ceased commercial activity in 2005 due to structural issues. Newtown’s importance as a cultural hub can’t be undermined. It houses the Market Theatre, the Market Photo Workshop, and the Africa Museum, three cultural artefacts that form part of the on-going story of Johannesburg. “I paint people, and I try [to do it] as realistically as possible. I try to do it as realistically as possible so that [others] can relate to them. I try to paint them in a way that they carry a soul, and the spirit [becomes] evident just looking at the eyes,” he says. Miriam Makeba’s lone piece, one whose existence makes Mahlathi’s project feel complete, occupies part of a wall a block away from this fine gallery of artistic excellence. Makeba’s contributions towards not only South African liberation, but the struggle for liberation by rebel movements from Mozambique to Liberia, are as monumental as her wide-reaching musical contributions. She is part of the era that left with the cast of King Kong and never returned to South Africa until the end of Apartheid was within the realm of possibility in the 1990s. On the opposite side of the street is another renowned South African artist’s work. Cape Town-based Falko’s characters are renowned in many regions across the world. Lately, he has found comfort painting elephants. As it turns out, he didn’t just fall into it. He has stated in another interview that he was painting them for fun initially, and that the interest in continuing waned  in under a year “because I was always just painting commissioned work.” He found himself in a Senegalese village once. The locals did not approve of the chicken he had painted, owing to its association with witchcraft. That was when the elephants shifted front-of-centre in his murals. "If you go to a foreign community, and the very first house you have an issue with, it could mean that you'll end up having an issue with everybody else," is his response regarding how he goes about painting on people's homes. A positive response could lead to others requesting a paint job. In Mamelodi, he went to a compound that housed a couple of dwellings and asked to paint the houses. He spent no more than 20 minutes on a piece, a testament to how sharp he is with his line work and overall technique. He completed about four other murals that day. One of his trademark gorillas featured on the side of one of the houses. In person, Falko cuts an approachable figure. His hair, which he often leaves to grow as it pleases in space, is his most striking feature. When working, he's kitted out in a shirt decorated by paint smudges, shorts, and a pair of Adidas sneakers or Grasshopper shoes. He can go on for hours talking about a topic that interests him and his knowledge of the art world, both commercial and indie. He was born in Mitchells Plain in 1976, started painting while in Westridge High School around 1989, and has been figuring it all out along the way. "Growing up [in the Plain] was definitely what was needed to make me the person I am today," he says. He was an associate of the formidable hip hop fraternity Black Noise at one point, which seems odd considering that he never did like rap music initially. He also deejays under the name Falko Starr, and is a third of the Chief Rockers crew (alongside deejays Eazy and Azuhl) which organised the legendary, now-defunct  Classics parties. "I remember when LL Cool J's I Need Love came out, and everybody was rapping that, I was like 'this is some shit'," he says over the phone when I eventually call to speak to him. "My foundation for music is New Wave of Punk and synth pop. I eventually got into hip hop and started breakdancing. [Afrika Bambaata's] Planet Rock was one of the anthems that you had to learn to dance to." Falko points out that access to what was happening internationally was near-impossible, what with all those thoughtful cultural boycotts courtesy of activists against apartheid worldwide. He says that the bubble they existed inside of during those days resulted in an insular style of painting. "We were basically just figuring it out from what we saw on TV and what we saw in the [Henry Chalfant and James Prigoff's Spraycan Art] book. We were assuming and making our own deductions, and being naive about what we saw. In trying to be a good artist, I didn't know that these kids in America and Europe had a hundred colours, and different nozzles, and all these things. We had Plascon and Dulux, and only 5 good colours out of 16 available. We didn't know the approach to it, the outline, the technique- there was no education on it. Because of that, our art was always shit," he says. Falko’s character-centric style developed over time. The tenacity with which he pursued his art, in spite of his financial circumstances, quickly distinguished him from his peers. He says that he was painting around three artworks per month. "Considering that I didn't have money, and my mom didn't have money, it was a lot," he adds. Among the many exciting projects Falko has either initiated himself or got commissioned to undertake are the murals on select taxis in Cape Town, which he did with acclaimed icon Mak One; the Split Pieces project that he part-collaborated on with the Joburg-based Rasty, who also organises the City of Gold Urban Art festival; and Once Upon A Town. ****** The multi-hyphenate artist Breeze Yoko spends his time in Cape Town, where his creations breathe in an environment buzzing with cutting-edge fine artists like Manyaku Mashilo, or exciting and innovative musicians like Kujenga; where he gets to curate live shows in a shared studio space located in Woodstock; and where he gets to cycle the vast plains of Cape Town and live a wholesome life surrounded by some of the finest artists working in the world right now. He recently contributed to a life-size mural alongside fellow street artists whose aim was to speak back to the injustices currently being enacted upon the people of Palestine, a real-time minefield of genocidal intent and global power indifference. "Being the way I am, and having dealt with galleries on an entry level, I am really struggling with handing over 50 percent of my earnings. But if you become an established gallery artist, they do bring a lot to the table that you pay your 50 percent for. For now, I'm just happy with people buying it directly from me. It fucks with my worth a little because you can't say you want a million bucks, but you are selling it out of your lounge. Most importantly, I don't wanna put that pressure on myself, or have the expectation that I belong in a gallery. I've basically survived without it for 30 years," he says in response to a question about why he's still not signed to one yet. Looking at his contemporaries – Nelson Makamo, Dineo Seshee Bopape, Mary Sibande, Dathini Mzayiya – it doesn't make sense why someone who's contributed so much of his time and creativity, and given so much love to various art-spaces over the years, is still so relatively, commercially under-appreciated. "In South Africa, there's a very conservative approach to galleries, and who shows in galleries, and what to show in galleries. People are scared to be leaders here. The cost of taking a risk is high," he says. "The reason I haven't gone that route is because I haven't really found somebody who'll be like okay cool, we got you. Let's do this the way that you see it." According to him, it has been a “blessing in disguise,” because  it is allowing him  to set up a situation like that for other artists. Through his travels, the street artist, videographer, video editor, emcee, illustrator, and South African hip hop gem (he's a member of the groundbreaking Groundworkx crew, alongside the likes of Hueman (RIP), Ben Sharpa (RIP), Krook'd the Warmonga, Hymphatic Thabs, and Snazz D) feels that he's made enough connections, and knows enough people who can unlock the infamous door to art nirvana, to make that situation pop. He cites his 2018 residency in Paris, France, as a period of substantial growth. While he had been to various European cities, including Paris, several times over, it wasn't until his 6-month stay that he had the opportunity to really explore the urban art underbelly in the infamous continent of white-collared oppressors and thieves. "I've seen that there is a market for people who practise the [artforms] that I practise, and [that] it's sellable as well. People are making bank out there son!" Breeze approaches his craft with the obsession of a scholar. He is conversant with the global art movement, to the point where he is willing to acknowledge that it's been weaponized to rob us, Africans, of our own notions of self. He is an urban legend and visionary of our time, a guiding light from where underground kids have drawn, and continue to draw, inspiration. To see cats like him offer a solutions-based approach to urban art by opening lanes for others is both refreshing, and confirmation that dreams are valid, irrespective of what form they take or are presented in. The two cities of Johannesburg and Cape Town offer insights that speak to dualities of street art, as well as the politics that govern public art in general. In Johannesburg's bustling CBD, one would be hard-pressed to turn a corner that isn’t infested with beautiful, grand murals by artists from different corners of the world. Work by renowned legends, the likes of Wane,  sit side-by-side with that of local heroes like Gogga, Falko, and Rasty. Each of them bring their chops that add colour to the chaos. Precincts such as Newtown, Braamfontein, and Jeppestown are bursting with colourful works. For the most part, an emphasis is put on aesthetic value as opposed to political leanings. In Cape Town, the city is only happy to commission work that is safe; work that doesn’t challenge; work that is devoid of deeper meaning. Anything else is criminal, as witnessed by their recent clamp-down of protest art in support of the Palestinian struggle for self-reliance and self-governance. The tags are mostly where it’s at. For instance, one would be hard-pressed to not find a ‘BlkThought’ tag around the time of the countrywide student protest of 2015 and 2016 that came to be known as #FeesMustFall – essentially a rally for a free, decolonised education across institutions of higher learning. Similarly, Breeze Yoko and fellow artists contributed to this cause by donating art pieces aimed at raising funds for that movement. Breeze’s independent works in Cape Town, a city renowned for its extreme clamp-down of street art from around 2008, are laden with political and Historical references. His mural, Boniswa, which can be found in Woodstock – one of the last bastions where public art is not heavily policed, portrays a young girl from the township sailing merrily across the Cape Flats on a boat. There are many ways to read this, the most obvious being the Dutch arrival of 1652 that led to the little-documented dawn of indentured slavery in the Western Cape province, and ultimately led to the brutal Apartheid policies of the late 20th century. There are many examples of protest art in South African history. ‘We Won’t Move’, seen in Sophiatown during the 1950s – Sophiatown, like District Six in Cape Town, was an intellectual stronghold that fell victim to forced removals , and relegated inhabitants to the outskirts of the city where they populated the now crime-infested townships where zoning according to race is most apparent – is among the most recognizable, alongside “DEFEND HOME” (seen on the American photojournalist Dan Weiner’s image made in Sophiatown during forced removals), and “WE STAND BY OUR LEADERS”, whose traces can still be seen outside the wall enclosing the Drill Hall in Johannesburg central during the Treason Trial in 1956. But of course these doodles on walls wouldn’t pass in the street art arena; they are relegated to the realms of graffiti, which acquired an association with subversion and a refusal to conform from the on-set. ‘Street Art’ suits the Capitalist agenda because of how it’s been bent to erase its roots in graffiti culture, its distant and unlawful cousin, so that it can be employed to spruce up the ugly face of gentrification. To end off, I would like to reflect on how street art is perceived by the mainly black, working class people who occupy the city of Johannesburg. It’s not uncommon to see people posing in front of walls while someone make an image of them – either a friend with a cellphone, or one the many photographers who work on the street in the three precincts of innercity Johannesburg: Maboneng/Jeppestown, Newtown, and Braamfontein. Street art adds aesthetic value, and is an indicator of sorts, something to say ‘I have arrived’, or ‘I was here’. Beyond that, and through speaking to randomly-selected individuals over the years, I haven’t found instances of intellectual investment in the art, be it a discussion on the shading, the thickness of the lines, or the overall quality of the artwork, such as what brand of spray paint was used. To speak about street art is also to speak about space, yes. But beyond that, it’s to speak about the politics of occupying that space, how long that space is available for, and what efforts go into documenting and archiving that moment within the ever-evolving context of a city.

I know that everyone felt that January took 563 days to end, but I for one, am not complaining. With the risk of sounding pretentious; I think we should all take a leaf out of my book. My book of course, speaks only to things with the lens of film, TV and all things entertainment. But it was the first month of the year, and speaking of entertainment, January worked overtime. We had top tier cinema releases and every award ceremony under the sun to keep us cinephiles going. And now, we’re in February. The month of love. Well, one thing’s for sure, you’re going to love these film recommendations. So get your calendars out, take notes and be sure to patronise our beloved film industry by getting yourself down to your local cinema. 2nd February– American Fiction Kicking off the month, we have ‘American Fiction.’ A directorial debut for Cord Jefferson and a satirical look at the world of Black storytelling and African American writing. The film is nominated for Best Picture, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Lead Actor (Jeffrey Wright) and Best Supporting Actor (Sterling K. Brown) at the Oscars, and features a predominantly Black all-star cast that includes Tracee Ellis-Ross, Issa Rae and Keith David. Critics raved about it following its limited US theatrical release late last year, and with it being an Academy Award frontrunner, it’s definitely not one to miss. 9th February– Iron Claw A24 films are gaining momentum. They have a newly established reputation for the production and distribution of hard-hitting films that confront tough subjects, all whilst maintaining stunning visuals, and ‘Iron Claw’ comfortably fits into that category of film. It follows the life of professional wrestler Kevin Von Erich and the Von Erich family, and is a biographical sports drama film that brings out the performance of a lifetime from Zac Efron, alongside Jeremy Allen White and Harris Dickinson. 14th February– Bob Marley: One Love Featuring Londoner Kingsley Ben-Adir as the lead, “Bob Marley: One Love” follows the life and legacy of the Jamaican superstar, starting from the very beginning, all the way to his untimely death in 1981. Filmed on location in Jamaica, it covers the adversity that Bob Marley faced and overcame, to become the world’s most recognisable reggae musician. Produced by son Ziggy Marley, and wife Rita Marley (played in the film by Lashana Lynch), it has been described as an inspirational, heartwarming and thoughtful take. 23rd February– Wicked Little Letters Based on a real-life stranger-than-fiction story, early reviews have hailed this film as the “British comedy of the year”. Starring British stalwart Olivia Coleman and Irish actress Jessie Buckley (collaborating again after 2021’s Oscar-nominated ‘The Lost Daughter’), the film is a black comedy that looks at what happens when scandal rocks a small English seaside town in the 1920s. International feature: Zone of Interest My international pick for February is the critically acclaimed ‘Zone of Interest,’ which had 3 nominations at the Golden Globes, nine nominations at the BAFTAs, and will be up for five nominations at the Academy Awards. Another A24 project, and directed by English screenwriter and director Jonathan Glazer, the film stars Christian Friedel and Sandra Huller as a German couple looking to build their dream life – in a new home next to an Auschwitz concentration camp. It is released in the UK on 2nd February. That’s all from me this month – February has geared up to give us satire, biopics, historical drama, laughs and more, meaning there’s something for everyone this month. Show patronage to your local and get yourself down to the cinema – it sounds like it will be worth it.

The African Cup of Nations has not only been an arena for football showdowns, but musical ones too. Over the years we have had witnessed African artists from all regions collaborate in the making of theme songs that have set the tone for each tournament. Here is a list of 5 of the best AFCON theme songs. 5. Together- Hakim, Femi Kuti & Dobet Gnahore (AFCON 2019) 4. Gabon 2017- Abiba and Sidiki Diabaté (Gabon 2017) 3. Hola Hola- Wizboyy,Molare, Toofan, Eddy Kenzo, Singuila, Arielle T (Equatorial Guinea 2015) 2. Together- Magic System Ft. Yemi Alade and Mohamen Ramadan (Côte d'Ivoire 2023) 1.We Stand for Africa- Various Artists (Cameroon 2021)

Here are 6 up-and-coming artists you need to add to your playlist. Listen to the Ones To Watch playlist here. Jabu Graybeal - WAY WAY BACK Singer-songwriter Jabu Graybeal is one to have on your R&B radar. On WAY WAY BACK he interpolates a classic, Steve Wonder - Love’s In Need of Today, letting the choir vocals ring throughout the song. His staccato, quippy flow sits perfectly on top of the trap beat as he talks about love, heartbreak and self-discovery. Hanai - Lfta Drawing on inspiration from The Fugees, John Mayor and Coldplay, Hanai gives you a classic love song on Lfta. The song is less than 90 seconds long so it’s one you keep on loop for a while. And even after the 5th listen, you play it again because it’s just that good. Manny Wellz - Magic Meet Manny Wellz, a Nigerian-born, Maryland-based multi-instrumentalist. He creates magic on Magic. Using influences from Afrobeats and R&B, he creates a unique and genre-bending sound on his single. Keys The Prince - Oya Now Meet West-London rapper Keys The Prince. He’s an artist who flows effortlessly on any sound and genre; incorporating gospel on songs like The Gift, 90s R&B on Party and drawing on the melodies and syncopation of African Praise that shaped his childhood on E Se, Part 2. Oya Now is the perfect blend of Fuji and Afroswing that just makes you want to dance. Yarden - Busy Body Nigerian native Yarden burst onto the scene at 19-years old with singles She Don't Love Me and Message After The Beep, landing himself a deal with Etins Record Label. He cites Travis Scott and The Weeknd as some of his inspirations behind his surly, ambient take on Afrobeats. His recently dropped EP The One Who Descends has been well received with tracks Wait and Time standing out from the rest. Nissi - Higher 2023 was a breakout year for creative entrepreneur and musical artist, Nissi. She came off a stellar summer tour with stops in London, New York, BergenFest in Norway and Afronation in Portugal, to a sophomore EP release in October. UNBOXED is a colourful afro-fusion project merging traditional Afrobeats with contemporary pop elements and Caribbean sounds.

This month's bookshelf is made up of 8 spicy, hearty, diverse romances picked by self professed book fanatic John-Paul Kunrunmi. There's something for everyone to indulge in in this month of love. Themes: Marriage, Depression, Grief, Death Summary: Their love was supposed to last forever. But when life delivered blow after devastating blow, Yasmen and Josiah Wade found that love alone couldn’t solve or save everything. Yasmen wasn’t prepared for how her life fell apart, but she is finally starting to find joy again. She and Josiah have found a new rhythm, co-parenting their two kids and running a business together. Yet like magnets, they’re always drawn back to each other, and now they’re beginning to wonder if they’re truly ready to let go of everything they once had. Soon, one stolen kiss leads to another…and then more. It's hot. It's illicit. It's all good—until old wounds reopen. Is it too late for them to find forever? Or could they even be better, the second time around? Themes: Short stories, Retellings, Mythology, Fantasy Summary: A high-born Nigerian goddess, who has been beaten down and unappreciated by her gregarious lover, longs to be truly seen. A young businesswoman attempts a great leap in her company, and an even greater one in her love life. A powerful Ghanaian spokeswoman is forced to decide whether she should uphold her family’s politics or be true to her heart. In her debut collection, internationally acclaimed writer Bolu Babalola retells the most beautiful love stories from history and mythology with incredible new detail and vivacity. Focusing on the magical folktales of West Africa, Babalola also reimagines Greek myths, ancient legends from the Middle East, and stories from long-erased places. With an eye towards decolonizing tropes inherent in our favorite tales of love, Babalola has created captivating stories that traverse across perspectives, continents, and genres. Themes: Fake Relationship, LGBTQIA+, Family, Class Summary: It's been months since aspiring journalist Kian Andrews has heard from his ex-boyfriend, Hudson Rivers, but an urgent text has them meeting at a café. Maybe Hudson wants to profusely apologize for the breakup. Or confess his undying love. . . But no, Hudson has a favor to ask--he wants Kian to pretend to be his boyfriend while his parents are in town, and Kian reluctantly agrees. The dinner doesn't go exactly as planned, and suddenly Kian is Hudson's plus one to Georgia's wedding of the season. If Kian goes, he'll help Hudson preserve appearances and get the opportunity to rub shoulders with some of the biggest names in media. This could be the big career break Kian needs. But their fake relationship is starting to feel like it might be more than a means to an end, and it's time for both men to fact-check their feelings. Themes: Fashion, Forbidden Love, 2nd Coming of Age Summary: Will a forty-year-old woman with everything on the line – her high-stakes career, ticking biological clock, bank account – risk it all for a lusty secret romance with the one person who could destroy her comeback? Jenna Jones, former It-girl fashion editor, is broke and desperate for a second chance. When she’s dumped by her longtime fiancé and fired from Darling magazine, she begs for a job at StyleZine.com from her old arch nemesis, Darcy Vale. But Jenna soon realizes she’s in over her head. She’s working with digital-savvy millennials half her age, has never even “Twittered,” and pretends to still be a Fashion Somebody while living a style lie (she sold her designer wardrobe to afford her sketched-out studio, and now quietly wears Walmart’s finest). Worse? The twenty-two-year-old videographer assigned to shoot her web series is driving her crazy. Wildly sexy with a smile Jenna feels in her thighs, Eric Combs is way off-limits – but almost too delicious to resist. Themes: Dating apps, Social Media, Self-Love Summary: When the love of her life shows up with a girlfriend, Tia decides it's time to put herself out there.Expectations of dating apps are low, so it's a surprise when she instantly connects with handsome photographer Nate. He's everything she's looking for; he makes her feel safe, seen, and desired.Tia assumes they're on the same page - the only catch? They're yet to have "The Talk." In a generation that's normalised competing over who cares the least, can Tia overcome her fears and lay her cards on the table, in the pursuit of something real?The Situationship is #Merky Books' first hilarious, unputdownable romcom! Themes: Young Adult, Coming of Age, Self- Acceptance, Culture and Heritage Summary: Henri “Halti” Haltiwanger can charm just about anyone. He is a star debater and popular student at the prestigious FATE academy, the dutiful first-generation Haitian son, and the trusted dog walker for his wealthy New York City neighbors. But his easy smiles mask a burning ambition to attend his dream college, Columbia University. There is only one person who seems immune to Henri’s charms: his “intense” classmate and neighbor Corinne Troy. When she uncovers Henri’s less-than-honest dog-walking scheme, she blackmails him into helping her change her image at school. Henri agrees, seeing a potential upside for himself. Soon what started as a mutual hustle turns into something more surprising than either of them ever bargained for. This is a sharply funny and insightful novel about the countless hustles we have to keep from doing the hardest thing: being ourselves. Themes: Enemies to Lovers, Career, Sexuality Summary: Successful pediatric surgeon London Kelley just needs to find some balance and de-stress. According to her friends Samiah and Taylor, what London really needs is a casual hookup. A night of fun with no strings. But no one—least of all London—expected it to go down at her high school reunion with Drew Sullivan, millionaire, owner of delicious abs, and oh yes, her archnemesis. Now London is certain the road to hell is paved with good sex. Because she’s found out the real reason Drew’s back in Austin: to decide whether her beloved hospital remains open. Worse, Drew is doing everything he can to show her that he’s a decent guy who actually cares. But London’s not falling for it. Because while sleeping with the enemy is one thing, falling for him is definitely not part of the plan. Themes: Grief, Forbidden Love, LGBTQIA+, Healing Summary: Feyi Adekola wants to learn how to be alive again. It’s been five years since the accident that killed the love of her life and she’s almost a new person now—an artist with her own studio, and sharing a brownstone apartment with her ride-or-die best friend, Joy, who insists it’s time for Feyi to ease back into the dating scene. Feyi isn’t ready for anything serious, but a steamy encounter at a rooftop party cascades into a whirlwind summer she could have never imagined: a luxury trip to a tropical island, decadent meals in the glamorous home of a celebrity chef, and a major curator who wants to launch her art career. She’s even started dating the perfect guy, but their new relationship might be sabotaged by the dangerous thrill Feyi feels every time she locks eyes with the one person in the house who is most definitely off-limits. This new life she asked for just got a lot more complicated, and Feyi must begin her search for real answers. Who is she ready to become? Can she release her past and honor her grief while still embracing her future? And, of course, there’s the biggest question of all—how far is she willing to go for a second chance at love?

What the team enjoyed in January x The Color Purple (Warner Bros) I went to see a screening of The Color Purple last week and I actually enjoyed the film. I’m not a fan of musicals, I find the transition from dialogue to singing quite grating, so I was pleasantly surprised I enjoyed this one as much as I did. The film is casted perfectly, shot beautifully and the music is incredible. I loved that they didn't veer from the original book and so delicately explored the romantic relationship between Cecile and Shug (the first film adaptation completely excluded their relationship). And it wasn't as sad as I expected it to be(!). The story of sisterhood and family really uplifts the mood. Would definitely recommend! - Akachi American Fiction (Amazon MGM) Based on the 2001 novel Erasure by Percival Everett, American Fiction takes a look into the life of Monk and expertly tackles what it means to pander to a perceived idea of ‘blackness’ for a cheque. Jeffery Wright stars alongside Issa Rae, as rival authors (unbeknownst to Issa’s character Sinatra Golden). Tracee Ellis Ross and Sterling K Brown play Wright’s slightly dysfunctional, but well meaning siblings and powerhouse Leslie Uggams, plays their matriarch struggling with early on-set dementia. Well paced and filled with moments which break the third wall insightfully, Cord Jefferson has brought Everett’s novel into the 21st century in a way that feels timely for a post Floyd-era. Sterling K Brown is a standout in his role as the ‘black sheep’ of the family. - Sabrina Mr and Mrs Smith (Prime Video) If you’re looking for the 2005 reboot, keeping scrolling. Going into this with an open mind will definitely serve fans well, as Maya Erskine and Donald Glover play married spies with a twist. With great tension and pacing Maya and Donald dominate every scene they’re in, along with a bevvy of famous faces (Michaela Coel!). Jane and John spent the series faking a marriage as their legend (a spy's claimed background or biography) but there’s so much more happening that the audience gets to unpack. There’s a real millennial feel to John and Jane’s musings, they’re fake married but what does security look like. Definitely a weekend watch. - Sabrina Champion (BBC iPlayer/ Netflix) Champion is a Black British drama set in South London following musician Bosco Champion, played by Top Boy star, Malcolm Kamulete, and his sister Vita (Déja J. Bowens) who steps out of her brother's shadow, to become her own performer - creating the sibling rivalry that tears apart the family. The series touches on the issues of male mental health in the black community and difficulties black artists face. The original soundtrack written by the likes of grime legend Ghetts and Ray BLK, blends elements of London's black music scene, from drill to reggae and R&B. If you have watched Empire, then you’ll love this! - Nnenna

Tito began learning how to swim last year. In conversation with filmmaker Olivia Smart, Tito discusses how Olivia made her 2023 Netflix Documentary Fund short BLACK STROKE and how she’s working to dispel myths surrounding black people and water. As someone who recently learned how to swim this is so relatable and so inspiring. It makes you feel seen as a black person. How do you feel now that your project is nearly out in the world? I feel nervous, because I think a lot of the time you spend kind of making it in your own world. For me the main priority when making this was Black Joy that was like the bottom of it. And I really wanted to make a film that really made you feel something and made you feel seen and made you feel a sense of warmth. What were some of the biggest misconceptions that prevented people from swimming, including those you interviewed? I think one of the biggest misconceptions is that our bone density is so heavy that we're just going to drown. And that's not actually true, I was speaking to a lot of scientists doing the research. And the difference between the bone density of black people and the bone density of white people is so minuscule that it would make absolutely no difference in you learning to swim. So I think that was a huge factor, I think it was really difficult in terms of kind of getting people to swim. Because a lot of the time when you go into these places, there's not many people that look like you. So it doesn't really feel like a place that's overly welcoming. I think with bodies of water, there's a huge fear because they can move and they can change so rapidly, and you can't feel the floor. So for me, it was about kind of proving that black people aren't a monolith, that's why it was so incredibly important for me to have three completely different stories with three completely different goals. So that when black people watch this, they could find relatability and at least one of the three characters, if not all of them. What’s your favourite swimming technique? I mean, it's gotta be the front stroke. It’s pretty funny because I could actually swim and I thought that was a really great swimmer/ These guys were having professional lessons, and I just kind of go in the pool when I'm on holiday, so when I actually got in our swimming instructor, Harley was like, “Olivia, I think you could do with a few lessons”. I was like, “What, this is my film!”, like, these guys are basically learning. I had only got in the pool with them to support them and encourage them and to prove that I could swim. So I've been saying that I could swim the whole time. And it was just so embarrassing that I was getting tips and they were showing me up. What would you say is the biggest reason that we should learn how to swim? I think it's a life skill and it's freedom. It's about being able to go abroad with your friends, and knowing that you can join in, knowing if you're on a boat party, if the boat goes down, God forbid, that you're going to be okay. These guys learn in eight weeks, twice a week. We didn't cheat it, Aaron actually learned in seven weeks, Maria actually learned in about five because she had to have a blood transfusion midway through, so it was actually less than eight weeks. So I think the level that Aaron got to having not been in a pool for 10 years, to be able to, I don't know if this is a spoiler alert, but to be able to get to the level that he got to was really impressive. It’s something that you can really feel present in your own body and like it's very affirming for your body confidence and your body image. Especially as black people, I don't often watch a show or see myself in the media,  in our natural state. So was that something that you were ever conscious of when filming or directing? I think for me, what a lot of people probably didn't realise is we actually had a predominantly black crew. So both in front and behind the camera. I think we had one white guy, God bless him. That was Mick, that was our soundie, but everybody else was black or mixed race. I think it was really important for everybody to feel like, you know, if we're laughing at them, we're not kind of poking holes at them, we're all kind of in the same space. And what we found when we were actually making this film was most of the crew couldn't actually swim either. I think it just made the whole experience so much more authentic, because I think the crew were really inspired by what was achieved by, you know, the three contribs, Satema, Maria and Aaron. I think, to be able to tell black stories, where they're not in proximity to suffering, they're not trauma based. It's a real story of overcoming and achievement and joy, for me as a filmmaker is why I came into the industry in the first place. Olivia Smart's BLACK STROKE is available to watch via Still Watching Netflix here.

Our Elders sometimes shrink when we ask them about their past. They can recoil when we are inquisitive about what their lives were like growing up. For some, the memories are far too painful to disclose. So when Benny's (Adrienne Warren) and Byron's (Ashley Thomas) mother, Eleanor (Chipo Chung) passes away, through pre-recorded voice recordings, they come to realise that their mother hadn’t been entirely honest with them about who she was. Moving between present day and the past, Oprah Winfrey’s produced TV adaptation of Charmaine Wilkerson’s, Black Cake, follows a teenage Eleanor, known as ‘Covey’, fleeing from Jamaica. We follow Covey’s escape after a series of catastrophic events happen in her life. In the present, her children were none the wiser, up until her death under the impression their mother was an orphan. But in reality, Eleanor/Covey knew her parents and lied about her past. Adapting a novel for the screen is not always easy, but when you have showrunner Marissa Jo Cerar in the driving seat ( Hulu’s Handmaid’s Tale), the story is in a safe pair of hands. The process of working with an author and turning a book into a screenplay can be complicated, but for Cerar it was a dream collaboration to work with Wilkerson. “When Charmaine came onto set, it really lifted me. It was the greatest gift”. Black Cake is one of Cerar’s favourite books so it was a special moment for her to work on the series, she enthusiastically tells The Floor Mag. The miniseries explores tough themes including grief, race, violence, and misogyny and Mia Isaac’s portrayal of Covey dazzles. There was an international search for the protagonist of the series and Cerar says the moment she saw Isaac’s self tape she exhaled in relief. “Everything that branches out is built from her [Covey]. She’s the soul of the series”, so the stakes were high. Wilkerson was equally impressed with Isaac, with the pair’s first encounter happening on set. “Mia was filming a tough scene and my eyes were starting to water because I was struck by the power of this young person to capture that moment,” the author exclaims. The vibrancy of Jamaica is demonstrated by the set design, costuming and cinematography. Cooking was meticulously planned and on set there were consultants to make sure that the Caribbean black cakes that frequently feature, (which typically consist of fruits, rum and brandy) were made accurately and authentically on screen. A heartwarming theme in the miniseries is Covey’s love for the water. In her early years, she was a competitive swimmer and avid surfer with big ambitions. Her swimming abilities also help her out in tricky situations more than once across the series. There’s a longstanding myth that Black people don’t swim, but swimming is a huge part of Covey’s life and flips this idea on its head. Wilkerson says she never set out to do this when writing the book, but disclosed that in the early phases of writing, she found herself reflecting on unwavering self-confidence. The image that she landed on was two girls in the water, so she ran with it. Water underpins the series, not only for Covey/Eleanor, but for her children too as her son is an “ocean scientist.” The hour-long episodes are an unsettling watch at times. Black Cake shares similar themes found in NBC’s intergenerational series This is Us, where secrets are uncovered and family and love are at the centre. To pin the series down to a singular category would be hard. It’s a family drama, but at the forefront there is ambitious storytelling led by “women of colour.” For Cerar, the series affirms that “we can be leads and plot drivers rather than the supporting characters in other people’s stories.” Rating - 4/5 You can watch Black Cake on Disney+ from January 31st

Zoë Modiga is a special talent. A vocalist, songwriter, outstanding performer and all-rounded entertainer, she began her ascendance onto the mantle of greatness a decade ago — first, through lending her talents to songs and performances by a string of leading South African bands. She then branched off on her own to embark on a career that has to date produced two outspoken, acclaimed albums — 2017’s Yellow: The Novel, as well as 2020’s Inganekwane. The pianist Bokani Dyer, who worked with her on Yellow, has declared her as “one of the most complete artists” of his generation of musicians. Though she has managed to defy categorisation, Modiga’s roots and understanding of music lie firmly in Jazz. She studied at the acclaimed National School of the Arts in Johannesburg before furthering her education at the University of Cape Town’s South African School of Music, which is also the alma matter of the aforementioned Dyer, Thandi Ntuli, Benjamin Jephta, Spha Mdlalose, and other talents who are running tings as far as Jazz and improvised music is concerned. She was announced as the Standard Bank Young Artist for Music (2024), a merit that requires her to produce work for presentation at this year’s National Arts Festival in Makhanda, Eastern Cape. Reflecting on the years since her last album, she says that it has involved a lot of learning how to become a different kind of music scholar, “a scholar by observation, a scholar by listening to other musicians.” “The music that I’m doing now feels like a different kind of classroom than the one I’m used to. It’s involved me having to study a lot of people to find a sense of self in that — from your King Tha’s (Thandiswa Mazwai), your Simphiwe Dana’s, your Oumou Sangare’s, Fatoumata Diawara’s; there’s a lot of people I feel I’ve musically been under the school of — mam’ Busi Mhlongo, a lot of the artists that I grew up to as well.” Modiga notes that the impactful exercise has made her realise that she’s part of something bigger, a vessel that holds a baton that she herself shall pass onto younger generations with time’s inevitable passage. It’s noteworthy that the influences Modiga speaks of, are themselves purveyors of some form of Jazz — that evolving, unpinned-down, undefined expression uniting the universal Black experience. In South Africa, it’s the men who have reigned in that world, oblivious to the privileged position, and mostly unwilling to challenge that tradition. It has been left to women, then, to force their way in, and this has produced a wide-ranging field that stretches from photography, to events, and even radio. The latter is where sis' Brenda Sisane lodges herself. A broadcasting veteran, her career started about three decades ago, and she as a result considers the likes of the late Bob Mabena, Shadow Twala and others as contemporaries. Sisane was at the helm of The Art of Sundays, a specialist show that stretched the limits of what we define as Jazz, hosted on Kaya FM, a regional Gauteng province radio station known during her time as 'the home of the Afropolitan.' Through her weekly features, she became instrumental in spreading the message of South African Jazz to greater audiences. She programmed herself into the consciousness of listeners, and brought her storied presence in both the broadcasting and corporate fraternities to imbue a rare quality and touch to a format that can otherwise become stale. There was always a fresh angle, a fresh take, an informed analysis. It was a scholarship of a different kind, complete with banging beats from the African continent and the Black diaspora. This was until Kaya FM went through a rebrand that witnessed a mass exodus of some of the dopest radio talent in this land. She was reinstated to the same radio station in late 2023 following a hiatus that began on 26 December, 2021, when the last The Art of Sundays went on-air. This time around, the show is titled The Jazz Standard with Brenda Sisane. I had a chance to break bread with Sisane. We devoted a sizable chunk of our conversation to the roles that women play, and have played, in constructing the many facets of Jazz. She highlighted the need to formalise a different vocabulary, one that accurately reflects the contribution of women.  "The are more things [in] the ecosystem of music. Women fill in those gaps as they walk into the space of artistry, [and] we don't talk about that; we don't write [about that]," she said. Sisane was a close friend of the late Sibongile Khumalo, the educator and world-class musician who flew close enough to the sun to not only embrace its light, but to as well reflect it in order to shine the path for others. "I was inducted into that place of women by her. She extended my relationships with her into meeting and hanging out with Dorothy Masuka and others. She'd be saying 'Brenda, you know, mam' Sophie Mgcina taught me this.' So she, as a young woman, found resonance by being around them, hence she could be so bold as an established artist. And I find that from her case study, it looks like that's how you got to be as a woman." She goes on to provide instances of such connections in contemporary times, and points to the likes of Thandi Ntuli and Spha Mdlalose's creative collaborations as sites where she has witnessed parallels to her experience. "They don't just walk in and spend most of their time on stage, they're backstage, they're front-of-house – they are other things besides being on the bandstand. Why is it?," she wonders. What emerged from our exchange is that the disparity we see in a patriarchal society stains everything in its environment, including the current gender imbalance of instrumentalists in Jazz. “Those instrumentalists that come from the school big bands disappear because they need to portray a particular person, which is characterised by  aggression and just insisting on being out there. So what if you don’t have that? And you’re not surrounded by a team that can elevate your work?,” again, she wonders, a question without answers; a question that only leads to more questioning, and as well raises the need for a deep reflection by the people who hold power in the music industry, in the academic fraternity, and in popular culture as a whole. Sisane invited Dr. Lindelwa Dalamba for a conversation during her show recently. What ensued felt more like the listener being invited to eavesdrop on old friends catching up. It was warm, inviting, and informative. Dr. Dalamba is herself a scholar of note whose research interests include Cultural Studies and Popular Music. She currently works as a senior lecturer at Wits University in Johannesburg. The conversation focused on the multi-year exchanges that Dr. Dalamba had had with the recently-departed Vuyiswa Rebecca Ngcwangu Mbambisa, described by the writer Gwen Ansell as "a huge star in her day, with an enthusiastic following who gave her the nickname ‘Sis’ Viva’." She says, “what was intriguing for me, after just chatting with aunt Viva over the years, is how she recalls how unsafe those [live performance] spaces were. Some of the spaces where Jazz was performed, by their very edginess, have served to keep women out of the scene.” Dr. Dalamba then moves on to reference something she read from Professor Lara Ellen’s book on South African women in Jazz, stating: “[She] notes how once Jazz moved to the stage, more women could participate because there was some separation between the audience and the musicians. So that somehow made women feel safer.” This calls to mind discussions in Electronic music, and in Hip Hop, about creating safe spaces, about inclusion, and about accountability. Again, it's left to the venue owners to create these spaces, and to the patrons to divest from supporting venues that don't have a vested interest in such values through both policy and practice. “There are different dangers now. They recognise these dangers, they’re recognised as assaults. There’s hashtags for this kind of thing now,” says Dr. Dalamba. Sisane then wonders: "What do we want women to do, as women in Jazz for instance?," to which Dr. Dalamba lets out a hearty laughter, and follows up by suggesting a different approach. "Maybe the question should start with ‘what do we want from Jazz’, you know?! We also have to be careful that Jazz doesn't consume us, because it consumed Billie Holiday and them. What do we want from Jazz? Do I want to make a living from Jazz? No. What I want from Jazz is the narrative [that] it is able to show me how black South Africans can be. It shows the possibilities. That’s what I want from Jazz." At this point, my mind shifts to Nina Simone's evergreen quote about the  artist's role in society being that of "reflecting the times." The pianist and composer Thandi Ntuli has spoken about this in the past, and her view is that she's still trying to figure it all out. "I do generally feel like the things I share need to sort of be thought of. I'm always making songs; I've got many songs that will probably never reach the public, which is also fine because I think it's also okay for me to make things for myself, or for the moment. But I do sense that there is a sort of responsibility, or an accountability, for the things that you say. Just like you can think many things, but you shouldn't have to say them. I think that the same is true with music." While these thoughts percolate, women in Jazz and other fields are doing what best they can to assert themselves – gently, with intent, with the utmost focus, and aware of what is at stake. Sis’ Brenda’s sentiments about ‘being inducted into a place of women’ is reflected not only in the music, where a new generation is taking its rightful place, as evidenced by the presence of instrumentalists like Nobuhle Ashanti and Thembelihle Dunjana, and vocalists like Thandeka Dladla and Bokang Ramatlapeng; it’s also reflected in lenswomen like Vuyo Giba and Lerato Pakade, whose eye ensures that the story of Jazz shall be faithfully documented for generations yet to be born. Yet Sisane cautions against this optimism, as she deems it as only a drop in the ocean in contrast to what women are up against. “When we see one we think, ‘yes, things are happening!’  Sibongile [Khumalo] disappeared, [she] had a larger-than-life personality. So [she] disappeared, and the voice of women disappeared [with her]. In a short space of time. [She] was everything, as an activist, if there was something that you needed, she would step in without fear or favour.” Then, who is taking up that position and creating those opportunities in this day and age?

Daniel Kaluuya's directorial debut When Complex asked Daniel Kaluuya about his directorial debut, the Get Out actor spoke about the magic that came from discussing ideas with Co-director, Kibwe Tavares, over a decade prior. “I wanted that [world-building] for British cinema, I wanted to see our world with that kind of imagination, with that kind of scale.” Together, the duo were able to combine that distinctive London identity with their script. The backdrop they so fluently implemented into The Kitchen was the biggest strength and the glue of the film. Although the Netflix project can be labeled as a successful debut, it was not one without flaw for Kaluuya. The undertones of social commentary on gentrification, class, race and even occupation throughout the movie were notable due to recent events and issues; but the granular plot following Izi and Benji (Jedaiah Bannerman) lacked enough depth and progression that a melancholic story deserves. This isn’t in any way a disregard towards the chemistry the actors shared on screen. In fact, Bannerman and Kano’s relationship was a shining beacon at many points in the film, which is precisely why their interactions and dialogue had so much potential to further explore their growing bond. 2. Izi or Dystopian Scully? It’s safe to say that Kano has mastered the ‘tortured soul’ archetype. The pain of surviving in a dystopian capital, plagued by state-led raids is sufficiently conveyed through Izi’s deadpan expressions, monotonous speech, yet harrowed eyes. From his performance as Scully in Top Boy, you can understand why Kaluuya chose the East London rapper to play the role as his compatibility to the protagonist seems to be an understatement. However, Kano is treading a fine line between perfectly executing a character similar to his previous project, and essentially type casting himself. When he was announced as part of the Netflix production, there was buzz surrounding his involvement, particularly for Kano to flex his theatrical muscles and for viewers to see the potential in his range. It will be interesting to see how his acting career develops moving forward, and what role he decides to take on next. 3. A well constructed soundtrack speaks volumes The carefully crafted soundtrack wasn’t just an ode to Black British culture, but also served as a powerful narrative companion. Although songs like Party Popper and How Bout Us offered support to emotions, tension, and atmosphere throughout the storyline, deeper meaning and lyrics from other tracks took the plot further. Take Alhaji K Frimpong’s Kyenkyen Bi Adi M'awu and Zombie by Fela Kuti: both West African artists- albeit in their respective languages- share themes of defiance and rebellion throughout their songs. The reason the music supervision was so impactful was ironically to do with the lack thereof. Modern films have soundtracks averaging around 20+ songs, whereas The Kitchen only has 15. The film relies heavily on the score, which gives the interjection of a well-placed song far more punch and weight. The best example of this is when Candy is playing at the roller rink. The score and the cult classic intertwine and slow down to emulate Benji’s state of confusion and abandonment, before the song takes over again, signifying his regained state of composure. From Sampha’s subtle melodies that accompanied intimate moments to Ruff Sqwad crescendos that heightened suspense, the music became an indispensable storyteller in its own right, and for that props must be given to Music Supervisor, Jumi Akinfenwa. 4. Guest appearances coupled with culture The sprinkle of prominent Black figures throughout the film was a refreshing surprise. From Backroad Gee and Cristale, to Teija Kabs and Arsenal legend Ian Wright as Lord Kitchener. The nod to the culture was an authentic one that kept the futuristic storyline from feeling too far removed from the reality that the film was pulling from. A large part of that was due to the natural flow of language and slang, in a way that many London-based shows and films have lacked, or even overdone in recent times. Compared to shows like Top Boy, where the forced slang takes away from the narrative and individual performances, it’s clear the actors were able to mold, tweak and alter their lines to better fit their own speech patterns and colloquialisms, making for a smoother visual journey and experience.