Two major music events that were meant to happen this year in South Africa were either outrightly cancelled or face uncertainty about their future. Hey Neighbour<\/a> \u2014 which brought Kendrick<\/span> Lamar<\/span> as a headliner two years ago \u2014 fell short of its promise of staging a two-day extravaganza featuring Doja Cat<\/span>, Central Cee<\/span>, and Leon Thomas<\/span>, among others. What began as a postponement ended in a full cancellation.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cThe shift is to allow adequate time to secure the necessary artist lineup, funding, and to build an experience that truly captures the event\u2019s signature spirit of community and connection,\u201d read part of the press release<\/a> published on the festival\u2019s official Instagram account in late September. As of writing, thousands of ticket-holders are still awaiting refunds.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The second event, organized by the Monyake Group and slated to bring Kanye West<\/span> to South Africa in December, now faces significant skepticism<\/a> from an audience whose trust has already been strained.\u00a0<\/p>\n At the core of both events\u2019 troubles is a faltering post-pandemic economy that has weakened consumer confidence, coupled with an exchange rate that makes such productions prohibitively expensive. It\u2019s in this\u00a0climate<\/a>\u00a0that two independently-run, jazz-forward festivals \u2014 Kids Love Jazz (KLJ) and uManyano Lwe Jazz (ULJ) \u2014 continue to operate.<\/p>\n This past weekend marked the second KLJ event of the year and the third since its debut in October 2024, which introduced a bold visual identity and a DIY attitude. According to founder Vuyo McGlad<\/span>, the aim is to create a home for \u201clive music lovers that have been excluded and made to feel like they don\u2019t belong.\u201d He\u2019s referring to the often exclusive world of jazz appreciation, which, consciously or not, shuts out potential audiences \u2014 particularly younger ones. \u201cWhen they come to Kids Love Jazz, they feel like we belong here,\u201d he tells OkayAfrica<\/span>.<\/p>\n KLJ is part of the broader Narowbi<\/a> collective, which has brought a renewed energy to Johannesburg\u2019s live music scene. At its core is an insistence that nothing is possible without the support of the jazz community<\/a> \u2014 including the artists themselves<\/a>. McGlad says the last two editions cost upwards of R300,000 (about $17,000), a figure that would have been much higher were it not for the generosity of the musicians involved.<\/p>\n \u201cEveryone on the line-up gave us discounts,\u201d he says, referencing artists such as Thandi Ntuli<\/span>, Muneyi<\/span>, and Vuyo Viwe<\/span>. \u201cThey see the value of the platform. We\u2019re so grateful, because they really think with us. Even our suppliers always do us favors.\u201d<\/p>\n When Zukiswa White<\/span> co-founded ULJ with friends and staged the first edition in 2021, she understood it as a necessary intervention, both in jazz and in the broader live music ecosystem. Four years on, the festival has grown into a two-day experience. This year, audiences will gather for performances by Msaki<\/span>, The Muffinz<\/span>, Sisonke Xonti<\/span>, Thandi Ntuli, Malcolm Jiyane<\/span>, and nineteen other musicians and DJs.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019ve benefitted from brand awareness this time around,\u201d White says. \u201cLast year was really great for us. It might not have looked like a massive success, but the 250 or so people who were there all had a story to tell. That builds trust; you don\u2019t have to work as hard to convince new people to come on board, because the previous audience does that for you.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cA big milestone for us this year was selling out the first 150 tickets without even announcing a line-up. All we had was a date and a venue. When I look at who bought those tickets, many of them are ULJ fam already, and now they\u2019re buying two, three tickets. People see this as a space meant to be shared with friends and family.\u201d<\/p>\n Community is also what keeps people returning to KLJ. Says McGlad: \u201cWe see it all the time. People come to the show, and they have this feeling that [they are] gonna come back here because [they] feel so welcome, it was nice, and the atmosphere was great. These events are therapeutic to people.\u201d<\/p>\n Accessibility is at the heart of KLJ\u2019s organisational ethos, and the reason they have chosen the Braamfontein precinct is because of its centrality. \u201cYou can get to Braamfontein from the North, from the West. You can get a taxi, drive, or take the Gautrain, and you\u2019ll get there. The city is alive,\u201d says McGlad.\u00a0<\/p>\n For White, the mission is more radical, and ties back to the history as a historically exclusive place that systematically kept Black people in the peripheries. There\u2019s a reclamation of sorts that takes place, and as White puts it, \u201cJohannesburg is for all of us.\u201d <\/p>\n \u201cConsciously or unconsciously, Black people think they don\u2019t have a legitimate claim to Gauteng as a place [they] can be a native of. The case we\u2019re trying to make with ULJ is to make the point that Johannesburg has language, culture, and that there\u2019s something unique about this city that has survived. Having people descend on the city when everyone else leaves in December is not coincidental,\u201d she says.\u00a0<\/p>\n Independent eventing is not easy. Both KLJ and ULJ are financed through collective labour, with family and friends filling gaps through in-kind support. White is vocal about the disparity in the use of language when discussing Black-run events versus white-owned ones.<\/p>\n \u201cWe need to demystify the cost and implications of eventing,\u201d she says. \u201cAcross the ecosystem, whether you\u2019re a talent, consumer, or an organiser, we [need to] have the necessary conversations about what it takes to stage a production. It\u2019s become too common to label a failed event as a \u2018scam.\u2019 It\u2019s okay to say, \u2018this event failed,\u2019 instead of, \u2018this organiser is a scammer.\u2019 That nuance is critical if we\u2019re serious about repairing rather than destroying. The space is still largely racist, patriarchal, and colonial. A lot of us are trying to push back against that.\u201d<\/p>\n Resources and infrastructure remain the biggest barriers, from venue access to production equipment to marketing. The work continues anyway.<\/p>\n \u201cWe broke even on the Sunday show, [and made] no profit. Transport money came from ourselves, but if you look at the buzz, everyone was so happy. And to us, that\u2019s enough. And it\u2019s not even about popularity, just seeing people happy \u2013 I saw people cry. It\u2019s such a great feeling to see that people love this platform,\u201d concludes McGlad.<\/p>\n Thandi Ntuli\u2019s set drew a crowd well before it began. Performing in a trio alongside Tlale Makhene<\/span> on percussion and Sphelelo Mazibuko<\/span> on drums, she paused mid-set to acknowledge KLJ and the work it\u2019s doing for the community. \u201cThe kids are alright,\u201d she said, a line that sent the venue into roaring applause.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n
\n <\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/picture>\n <\/div>\nThe Most Valuable Currency: Community and the Reclamation of Jo’burg Jazz<\/h2>\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/image.okayafrica.com\/1416670.webp?imageId=1416670&width=960&height=548&format=jpg\" "\\"Vuyo")
\n <\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/picture>\n <\/div>\n![\"An](\"https:\/\/image.okayafrica.com\/1416664.webp?imageId=1416664&width=960&height=548&format=jpg\" "\\"Lerato")
\n <\/source><\/source><\/source><\/source><\/picture>\n <\/div>\nBeyond the Bottom Line: Surviving on Collective Labor and Community Spirit<\/h2>\n