Sing Me (3)
By Ayanda Xaba, South Africa:
I finished my Degree in Music, Drama and Performing from University of KwaZulu-Natal and went to Cape Town where I joined a group of professional choristers. I remember my audition so well; I went there looking like a mad woman. A friend had informed me about the audition an hour before it started. I was painting in my flat so I didn’t have time to change, or prepare any song. The judges asked me to sing any song by Sarah Brightman and I had to think fast. I think it’s safe to say that my ancestors were with me because I opened my mouth and an amazing melody came out. I sang ‘deliver me’ straight from the heart, it is my favourite song by her anyway. The judges stopped me before I could even finish the piece, and told me I’ve made it into the group.
I was beyond happy and the three years that followed that moment were bliss. We were given three-year contracts and when mine ended I decided to undertake on a solo career. Even that was explosive; in the first year I received amazing support, sponsorships and a world tour. It’s every chorister’s dream to go to UK or Italy and I had the privilege to do so, and even won an award for my fine soprano.
Music life is great right? I thought so too until I came back home late last year. It felt as if people forgot me while I was away. I organised a home coming event in Port Elizabeth, my home city, expecting the same reception I got when I launched my solo career but only a few people came. The event went well either way but that was officially my last time performing on my own show. I got an invitation to perform in the National Choral Music Awards in Durban, imagine my joy – Stella was getting her groove back. That night was breathtaking and I was ready for more, but more that never came.
I’ve been told that the best way to figure things out is to go back to your roots; so I packed my bags and moved to PE. I went to my grandparents house in Pedi, but I couldn’t get any inspiration for either paint or music. My grandmother made me sing at the church choir, imagine the torture. I really hated it at first but I eventually enjoyed it, especially the part where I taught music to the church youth. As much as I enjoyed that, I was still not making any money, so I decided to join my sister in Johannesburg and see what it can give me. I was already tired of my mother telling me I should’ve listened to her and studied teaching, I would be a teacher now and not an unemployed 26 year old former chorister. I never received any formal training for painting, just a couple of short courses because I love it and I initially didn’t want to sell any of my paintings. Being home and broke hit me hard and I had to take some and sell, I was fortunate to get buyers in PE and that’s how I saved up money for the trip to Johannesburg.
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I’ve always been the cautious type in relationships; get to know the guy well first before getting into a relationship with him. With Zain it was different; yes, I saw him around campus but I knew nothing about him except that he is from somewhere in Mpumalanga. He was a fresh breath of air; he literally breezed into my life and I welcomed him with open arms. The relationship was faster than the stroke of lightning and I liked that. Two days after the first date we got intimate. There was nothing in me that thought twice about that, I had promised myself to live in the moment and forget about life’s stupid rules. The adrenaline was amazing, like I just set off from a bungee jump – not knowing how far the fall is.
Everything was out in the open right from the beginning; this isn’t love it’s just fun – and fun we had! From the first date we saw each other everyday, for the first week. I think I had already gotten tired of the fun because I decided to take off to meet an ex without telling him. I had spent too much time with Zain and forgot my to-do-list, the list I was memorizing when I arrived in Soweto. So it was Vilakazi Street with the ex and later in the week it was Soweto theatre alone. This is the issue Zain refused to understand – I was too used to being alone and doing things on my own. He insisted that he accompany me even if it means dropping me off and fetching me later – I got sick of it.
He started being insecure and possessive. Zain seemed to have forgotten what we had (or rather have) isn’t a relationship, it was supposed to be just fun! Imagine the tantrums he threw after learning that I went to meet an ex at Vilakazi Street. That guy – the ex – owed me lunch, and much more, for all the things he put me through while we were together. He’s a fool that broke my heart back in Cape Town – long story. Zain obviously wouldn’t hear any of it. I like his Swati temper though, he screams a couple of times and then kisses me passionately, then the fight is over. He knew I’d come to love his lips, just his lips, so he used them quite often.
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When I went to Soweto theater, I wanted to gather myself. I felt like my mind was leaving me and I had to chase it fast. I took a walk around the Jabulani township first before walking into the theatre and enjoying the festivities. It was amazing, I had time to do some introspection and I realized I had to dump Zain. Being a performing artist isn’t easy, life as normal people know it doesn’t make sense to you. Relationships do not make sense to me. I was planning on making Zain my muse, so I can paint a picture of him and probably get inspired to paint more or write more songs. Even my voice sounds all cracked up. The reason I left Port Elizabeth was to find my voice, so I can be the Abongile Sokana I’ve always wanted to be. But then Zain happened, and now I have to undo him so I can salvage my career. I made the decision and was going to let him know as soon as I finished doing my laundry, but then he came over unannounced and…
What do I do now?