By Saul Molobi
South Africa has lost one of its most dynamic cultural custodians. Rashid Lombard — acclaimed photojournalist, jazz impresario, and tireless cultural activist — passed on at the age of 74, surrounded by his loved ones. Though his physical presence departs, his influence will continue to reverberate through the chords of our music, the spirit of our struggle, and the frames of his indelible photography.
Born on 10 April 1951 in North End, Gqeberha, Rashid’s journey from a small boy in a multicultural Eastern Cape community to a global icon of cultural resistance and artistic excellence was one shaped by both the brutal fractures of apartheid and the healing rhythms of jazz. When his family moved to Cape Town in 1962, apartheid’s bulldozers soon followed — uprooting friendships and dismembering the community he once knew. Those early wounds deepened his political consciousness, later nourished by the Black Consciousness Movement (BCM), which added sharp clarity to his life’s purpose: to document, to resist, to uplift.
Rashid began his career as an architectural draftsman and industrial photographer with Murray & Roberts but soon swapped technical lines for the emotional truth captured through his camera lens. As a freelance photographer and sound recordist, he became a vital chronicler of South Africa’s turbulent yet hopeful transformation. His work was carried by global media giants like Agence France-Presse, BBC, and NBC — images that bore witness to the struggle, from the rise of the democratic movement in the 1980s to the release of Nelson Mandela in 1990 and the first democratic elections in 1994.
But Rashid was not only a recorder of sound and image — he was a composer of cultural spaces. After serving as station manager at Fine Music Radio and programming manager at P4 Smooth Jazz Radio, he founded espAfrika in 1997. It was this move that birthed one of his greatest legacies: the Cape Town International Jazz Festival, which he launched in 2000 and directed until 2014. Affectionately dubbed “Africa’s Grandest Gathering,” the festival became an unparalleled cultural platform, placing Cape Town at the epicentre of global jazz and drawing some of the world’s most iconic performers to South African stages.
It was during my tenure as South Africa’s Consul-General in Milan, from March 2012 to June 2016, that I had the privilege of collaborating with Rashid on an initiative that exemplified his commitment to international cultural dialogue. I had been engaging with the Turin International Jazz Festival and suggested a partnership with the Cape Town International Jazz Festival — a proposal centered on cultural exchange and potential city twinning between Turin and Cape Town. When I called Rashid, he was instantly excited, affirming his support and commitment to etch this proposal into reality. For me, this was more than diplomacy — it was a cultural bridge that could elevate Cape Town’s global stature. Unfortunately, the political leadership of Cape Town at the time — short-sighted and suspicious because I belonged to a different political party — failed to appreciate the non-partisan value of the initiative. They could not grasp that I was representing the country, not a political faction. Even more puzzling was their inability to recognise the mayor of Turin, a socialist, as the leader of a progressive city and not merely a party figurehead. The missed opportunity was a disservice to our people, for Cape Town stood to benefit most from that international alliance.
Beyond diplomacy and festivals, Rashid remained rooted in the power of storytelling. His landmark 2010 book, Jazz Rocks — edited by the legendary George Hallett — is more than a photobook; it is a visual symphony, a testament to the soul of jazz and the artists who gave it life. Through his lens, Rashid didn’t just photograph music — he captured the pulse of freedom, the energy of improvisation, and the resistance encoded in every note.
In his later years, Rashid focused on digitising his vast archives, a project he initiated with his beloved partner Colleen Lombard and continued in partnership with the National Archives and the Department of Sport, Arts and Culture. His daughter, Yana Lombard-Williams, will now take this torch forward — an inheritance not just of images, but of vision.
Rashid was the recipient of numerous accolades, chief among them the National Order of Ikhamanga in Silver, awarded in 2014 “for his excellent contribution to arts and culture and his dedication to promoting jazz music that has put South Africa on the map for many jazz enthusiasts around the world.”
One of the most poignant moments in Rashid’s life came in 1986 when the great exiled photographer Ernest Cole — who had not held a camera in over a decade — borrowed Rashid’s and turned the lens on him. It was more than an act of documentation; it was a gesture of reverence from one icon to another.
In an interview about his legacy, Rashid once said, “No matter who you are — religion, race, male, female — you can achieve your dreams. I’m a true testament to that.”
Indeed, he was.
Rashid Lombard is survived by Colleen, his sister Fazoe Sydow, his children Chevan, Shadley, Yana, Zach, and Daniel, and his grandchildren Liya, Aydin-Malik, Oliver, AmirUccio, and Stella Ahed. He joins his beloved granddaughter Hannah, who passed away in 2002. He will be buried according to Muslim rites.
As South Africa lowers its flags in mourning, let us raise our voices in celebration — for Rashid’s was a life well lived, a legacy deeply etched, and a rhythm that will echo through generations to come.