Misi Mvelasedo

Born in 1965, Fiyani John Masondo, who signs as Johanni, has spent most of his life as a farm labourer, picking up skills that are never put to use, although they would make an impressive CV. Farm labourers, of course, don’t get to have CVs. They have a temporary existence, based on temporary jobs, with long spells of nothing in between.

Two of Fiyani’s employers were murdered – which meant the end of work. Other jobs were seasonal or affected by the market slump. He’s not a talkative person, so one has to work alongside him, digging in a field, to discover the wide range of knowledge he has acquired about farming. His experience has been diverse and practical. He’s learnt and observed – and lost another job.
In 1999, during another spell of unemployment, Fiyani signed on for temporary work with a poverty relief programme, clearing land for the plough. When that work came to an end, he joined a copper wire class, sitting with twelve-year-olds and learning from the beginning.

It wasn’t easy for a man with such a strong sense of manhood. He is independent, stubborn, slow, and methodical – and he faltered learning to bead (traditionally seen as a woman’s activity). He would come into his own with the use of brass beads on copper baskets for metal is perceived as a male element. Fiyani was comfortable with brass, a ‘male’ decoration – heavy and assertive, forged out of rock.

Necessity has made him come to terms with glass beads, and his skilled coloured beading has drawn admiration from the women. But that’s a necessity. His real love is metal – and his best work is metal with no beading at all.

Text adapted from correspondence between Creina Alcock and Julia Meintjes, 2011.

Fiyani John ‘Johanni’ Masondo

Born in 1965, Fiyani John Masondo, who signs as Johanni, has spent most of his life as a farm labourer, picking up skills that are never put to use, although they would make an impressive CV. Farm labourers, of course, don’t get to have CVs. They have a temporary existence, based on temporary jobs, with long spells of nothing in between.

Two of Fiyani’s employers were murdered – which meant the end of work. Other jobs were seasonal or affected by the market slump. He’s not a talkative person, so one has to work alongside him, digging in a field, to discover the wide range of knowledge he has acquired about farming. His experience has been diverse and practical. He’s learnt and observed – and lost another job.
In 1999, during another spell of unemployment, Fiyani signed on for temporary work with a poverty relief programme, clearing land for the plough. When that work came to an end, he joined a copper wire class, sitting with twelve-year-olds and learning from the beginning.

It wasn’t easy for a man with such a strong sense of manhood. He is independent, stubborn, slow, and methodical – and he faltered learning to bead (traditionally seen as a woman’s activity). He would come into his own with the use of brass beads on copper baskets for metal is perceived as a male element. Fiyani was comfortable with brass, a ‘male’ decoration – heavy and assertive, forged out of rock.

Necessity has made him come to terms with glass beads, and his skilled coloured beading has drawn admiration from the women. But that’s a necessity. His real love is metal – and his best work is metal with no beading at all.

Text adapted from correspondence between Creina Alcock and Julia Meintjes, 2011.

Nonhlanhla Shezi

Nonhlanhla Shezi was born in 1961 on Shu Shu Island in the Tugela River: an area 130 km away from Msinga, with different customs, different ways of dressing, and no fights. Her father worked as a gardener in Durban, struggling to support his wife and seven children, so Nonhlanhla Shezi didn’t go to school and spent her early days doing housework.

She met her husband, Fano Thomas Dladla, while preparing a return-of-the-spirit ceremony and, after a long courtship, in 1981, Nonhlanhla Shezi moved into the Dladla homestead. Soon after her relatives set lobola, a truck delivered nine cattle with two cattle owing, which are still owing as, soon after, the husband lost his job.

Losing Fano Thomas Dladla’s job was just the first of the hardships the young couple would face. There was the ongoing violence at Msinga between the residents of Mathintha and Nqumantaba, Nonhlanhla Shezi’s epilepsy that made her a regular patient at the Church of Scotland Hospital at Tugela Ferry, and the heartache of three miscarriages and childless marriage.

In 2001, Nonhlanhla Shezi joined the Mdukatshani craft group. She was forty years old and her ability to weave would be a revelation and a joy. The craft group helped her financially and integrated her into a support network with other women who cared for her.

Nonhlanhla Shezi moved out of Msinga in 2011 to Tugela Estates and her contribution to the craft group became sporadic. She now lives in Mchuni, even further away from Mdukatshani, and is now a pensioner.

Text adapted from correspondence between the Mdukatshani Trust and JMFA, 2021.