It’s Women’s Month. Let’s celebrate South African women in jazz and the sonic liberation of the self.

Jazz in South Africa is not simply a genre — it is a system of knowledge. A way of knowing the self. A way of remembering, imagining, mourning, healing. And when we follow the voices of women who have contributed to this vast sonic tradition — as vocalists, instrumentalists, composers, broadcasters, and cultural workers — we begin to understand that South African jazz is not complete without their stories, sounds, and silences.

These women have turned sound into survival, into sovereignty, into sacred space. They have not only participated in the evolution of jazz — they have driven it, carried it, rebirthed it, and expanded it beyond borders and binaries.

Jazz as a Site of Feminist and African Agency

The women of South African jazz have long operated in a space that is simultaneously marginalised and essential. In a genre historically dominated by men, their presence is an act of defiance. But more than that — their artistry is a counter-narrative.

It is a refusal to be background vocalists in their own lives.

Sathima Bea Benjamin’s life, for instance, illustrates how jazz offered a kind of refuge and resistance. Her collaborations with Duke Ellington and Abdullah Ibrahim (her life partner) might have overshadowed her in the mainstream, but her work — especially albums like Dedications and African Songbird — carved out a quiet, commanding presence in global jazz. She sang not just to perform, but to witness.

Similarly, Dorothy Masuka used her music as political text. Her banned songs were dangerous not because of volume but because of truth. Her voice carried the voices of many: women detained, communities erased, languages denied.

What unites these artists — from Miriam Makeba to Thandiswa Mazwai, from Siya Makuzeni to Msaki — is the intentionality of their sound. Whether traditional or experimental, their music is a form of agency: a tool for naming, claiming, and reclaiming space.

Language, Lineage and the Sound of Home

A remarkable feature of South African women in jazz is their linguistic plurality. They sing in isiXhosa, Setswana, Tshivenda, Afrikaans, English — sometimes all at once. This isn’t aesthetic; it’s ancestral. It’s how they carry their homes into the world, one syllable at a time.

Take Letta Mbulu, who sang the pain of exile with poise and political elegance. Or Simphiwe Dana, whose use of isiXhosa is as much a spiritual practice as it is a stylistic choice. Zoë Modiga’s fearless weaving of language, tone, and visual aesthetics places her in conversation not only with the foremothers but with a global Afro-diasporic aesthetic that values truth-telling above trend.

Their work reminds us: language is memory. And music is its vessel.

Jazz as Intergenerational Inheritance

Jazz is often seen as an elite or inaccessible artform. But in South Africa, it is deeply communal — a language passed down through performance, memory, and mentorship.

The presence of new generation voices like Thandi Ntuli, Linda Tshabalala, Lesego Nkotseng, Solace Can and Omagugu reveals that jazz is not fossilised. It is growing, adapting, and becoming — just like the nation itself.

They don’t play jazz the way it was done before. They build upon it. They challenge it. They bring in influences from classical, electronic, soul, gospel — and yet, the spirit of improvisation, of truth-telling, of intimate storytelling remains intact.

Their work speaks to a jazz that is not nostalgic, but futuristic. They imagine a South Africa that has yet to exist — but could.

The Invisible Architects: Women Broadcasters and Cultural Workers

Equally important to this archive are the women who carry the music to the people. The curators. The radio hosts. The tastemakers. The archivists. The cultural midwives.

Nothemba Madumo’s velvet voice has guided listeners through South Africa’s jazz lineage for decades, making jazz accessible to both seasoned lovers and first-time listeners. Brenda Sisane has been at the forefront of arts broadcasting, using her platform to spotlight the nuanced, spiritual and technical depth of South African jazz. Shado Twala, whose influence spans media, film, and music, has mentored and platformed countless voices in an industry still fighting for equitable representation.

Their contributions are vital. Because what good is genius if no one hears it? What good is a song if the system silences it?

Most of these women do appear in a multimedia book that I co-produced with Siphiwe Mhlambi, “Rhythms in Black and White: A Virtual Journey Through the World of Jazz” – a passionate celebration of jazz in South Africa. With brilliant, evocative photography Siphiwe Mhlambi captures the essence of musicians making music: his images resonate with the special atmosphere of jazz.

Beyond Music, Toward Liberation

To speak of South African women in jazz is not to romanticise their struggle — but to recognise their excellence, their labour, their leadership, and their cultural authorship.

They are not footnotes in the narrative of jazz. They are the narrators. The composers of cultural memory. The engineers of Black sonic freedom.

Their music holds the tension between longing and joy, exile and return, softness and strength. Their art is emotional cartography — a map through which we navigate personal and national identity.

They teach us that jazz is not just what you play. It’s how you live. How you listen. How you become.

And so, the archive grows. It sings. It breathes. It remembers. It is a living archive — not locked in the past, but unfolding in real time. And if we are wise, we will keep listening.

Honouring Women’s Day in Song and Spirit

As we prepare to mark National Women’s Day tomorrow on 9 August, it becomes increasingly important that our celebrations go beyond symbolic gestures. This day, rooted in the historic 1956 march of more than 20,000 South African women to the Union Buildings in protest against apartheid pass laws, is a call to honour the courage, creativity and contribution of women — past and present.

In that spirit, we proudly endorse the Women’s Day Celebration at Niki’s Oasis Jazz Restaurant, headlined by the dynamic and gifted Solace Can. More than just an event, this is a moment of cultural and artistic reflection, driven by a voice that represents not only musical excellence but also the resilience and beauty of the South African woman.

Solace Can is no ordinary performer. She is a torchbearer of modern African jazz, whose work blends classical training with community-based storytelling and performance. Her music, rooted in African idioms and lifted by the improvisational freedom of jazz, echoes the voices of our mothers, sisters, and daughters. Through her, we hear stories of struggle, triumph, and aspiration — set to melody.

What makes this celebration even more significant is that it provides us with an opportunity to support Solace’s Rivoningo Arts Foundation, an initiative committed to nurturing talent among young people, especially those from disadvantaged communities. By developing creative skills and offering food and support, the foundation exemplifies the kind of active citizenship and social responsibility that Women’s Day should inspire in all of us.

Let us all support the platforming of artists like Solace Can, who do more than entertain — they lead, uplift and empower. We commend Niki’s Oasis for continuing to provide a space where jazz meets activism, and culture becomes a canvas for social change.

We urge you, our dearest reader, to show up — not just in attendance, but in solidarity. Dress in your finest post-modernist African attire to celebrate the artistry, and take a moment to reflect on what this day means in our collective journey toward gender equality, cultural pride and social justice.

Because music remembers. And this Women’s Day, it sings the names of our matriarchs, our muses and our makers of change.

Tujenge Afrika Pamoja! Let’s Build Africa Together!

Enjoy your weekend.

Saul Molobi (FCIM)

PUBLISHER: JAMBO AFRICA ONLINE

and

Group Chief Executive Officer and Chairman
Brandhill Africa™
Tel: +27 11 759 4297
Mobile: +27 83 635 7773

Physical Address: 1st Floor, Cradock Square Offices; 169 Oxford Road; Rosebank; JOHANNESBURG; 2196.   

eMailsaul.molobi@brandhillafrica.com

Websitewww.brandhillafrica.com

Social Media:  Twitter  / Instagram / LinkedIn / Facebook / YouTube / Jambo Africa Online / WhatsApp Group / 101.9 Chai FM