Dear Humblo,
I first knew you on a cloudy and breezy afternoon on 31 March 2012 during an Umtapo Peace Africa youth programme at Swongozwi Secondary School at Madodonga village. You were part of Vito-Vibe musical group consisting of you, Teddy H, Beekay, F-low, Dr-dee, Lee'Muvenda, and Teekay.
On stage, you spat lyrical knives. You were not dubbed Queen for nothing; you were not crowned Queen of Venrap for nothing - you believed in the genre so much you promoted it at all costs.
You fought hard to annihilate the stigma of craziness and senselessness so associated with the genre by some, who believed that VenRap was just a waste of time, was not even a genre but a platform for lazy, uneducated school drop-outs who had nothing valuable to pursue in life. You saw excellence in this genre, for youths had found a mode of self-expression and the addressing of social ills.
I remember our meeting at Louis Trichardt Nando's laterwards. You told me you had enrolled for an LLB because you wanted to right wrongs: "My brother was shot dead by the police under what I see as an unfair, uncalled-for circumstances," you said. You wanted to solve that and more cases as well. With tears gleaming in your eyes, you wanted to challenge the matter even in the highest courts of the country once you had graduated...
You spoke so passionately about the Rastas who sold cultural items and other articles in the Thohoyandou and Sibasa CBDs, and how you admired them for working harder and for their worldview towards life.
One morning I woke up to the message on my phone: "Daddy (for that's how you chose to affectionately address me), I've just been crowned Miss Venrap!" I called you straightaway, congratulated you and spurred you on.
I learned about your passing on at around 08:00 on Friday from a colleague, and ever since then I've been trying to be strong as I continued to mind the battle between me and UKZN Press, which you knew about and had aptly comforted me and advised me to fight for the copyrights for my novel, The Violent Gestures of Life.
Some thirty minutes ago, as I was walking to Edgars reality hit me afresh, that you are no more; and I nearly collapsed in front of ABSA.
You were a force and source of motivation among many youths. Your Facebook pages were educational institutions in themselves. Thousands and thousands of youths worshipped you, for you were a true Goddess of hope, perseverance (for I never heard you complain), self-love, peace, and being passionate about one's dreams.
You had this positive outlook towards life. You always oozed energy and vitality which touched those around you.
As you join your brother and my childhood buddy, Happy Manenzhe, on the other shore, give my regards to him. For we meet to live, and live to pass, and pass to live on the other side.
I take solace in the fact that you were a strong-willed young woman who was always courageous, who knew what she wanted in life, and one who 'will' not allow us to cry forever but find strength amid the punches of death.
And, now:
"Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death ..."
Child of the African soil, may your Soul rest in peace in the home of Ancestors.