/ 27 June 1997

Revisiting Ngema

SUZY BELL visits playwright Mbongeni Ngema at his Durban home to find out where his life and his work are at after the Sarafina 2 scandal

`SARAFINA 2 messed up my life, both professionally and personally,” says Mbongeni Ngema with absolute candour. “It stressed me out so much I landed in hospital with high blood pressure. I feel I came off far worse than health minister Nkosazana Zuma.” He refuses to expand on meetings with Zuma but says: “I met her a few times before the Sarafina 2 blow-up, but after that I haven’t seen her again.

“But life is like that, with its ups and downs. Look at Michael Jackson who lives a unique life. He has become larger than life but they also cut him down. It’s just that people, especially the white-dominated media, blow things out of proportion. In hospital I had time for a lot of self- introspection. Back in August 1996, I had a turning point in my life and turned to Christianity. That has helped me through these difficult times. But I realise I was a scapegoat and I got caught up in a political game. I’m irreplaceable … my talent has put me on this pedestal worldwide.”

He cups his hands as if in mid-prayer. “No one in this country, not even a university, has trained people from the street in a year and put them on a professional stage and made them stars. Just look at the TV and listen to the CDs … Do you know that all those artists come from these hands.” He offers his open palms, Christlike, expecting to be revered, as if hoping for forgiveness for the R14,7-million government-funded Sarafina 2 debacle.

But those same hands have slapped a cast member, as even Ngema will admit as he demonstrates with a thunderous clap on his desk how hard he hit a female African American during rehearsals of Sarafina in New York,1988. He defends himself saying: “She annoyed me and the entire cast. I need ultra-discipline during rehearsals and that’s how I get the best results.” But the American Actors Equity Association bought an action against Ngema, citing corporal punishment and verbal abuse. This was confirmed by Dan Robbertse, president of the Performing Arts Worker’s Equity.

“I think I’m going soft in my old age,” chuckles Ngema as he re-shuffles himself in his chair languidly. “Before, I was a disciplined workaholic.”

Johann Zietsman, CEO for The Playhouse Company in Durban, where Ngema is an associate musicals director, said: “No official grievances have been put forward. But I’m not saying he is an angel either.”

Ngema is on a three-year contract which expires on June 30 1999, which Zietsman explains is tailor-made to get the best of what Ngema can offer. “Ngema is paid R70 000 per year for a minimum of 70 hours work, but that does not mean he is paid R1 000 per hour. He works incredibly long hours during rehearsals.”

Ngema’s recent musical, Mama, attracted 17 000 people over five weeks, taking R220 000 at the box office. Mama toured abroad and the Playhouse coins $400 every time the curtain lifts. Although Sarafina 2 was widely criticised by Aids workers as low on content, Ngema is adamant he did “adequate Aids research. They are just jealous of what I have achieved. What have they done, these so-called Aids experts?”

Some say Ngema “has The Playhouse by the short and curlies”; that his appointment is political, “using The Playhouse as a front. He hardly works there as he has his studio at home,” says one source. “The artistic director should not be one demi- god doing whatever he fancies.”

“He’s so well connected he can phone Stevie Wonder direct, or Quincy Jones, and he’s big buddies with Winnie Mandela. His advisers are sycophants and basically he’s using public money to fund his own productions. Nothing has changed. Before we had honkies blowing money indiscriminately, now he is enjoying those fruits … They appointed him to legitimise the Playhouse,” said a theatre personality.

Ngema laughs loudly when it’s suggested many people interviewed are frightened by him; that he’s seen to be part of a mafia with henchmen. “I didn’t realise I had so much power. I’m amused. I think it is good that people fear me.” Ironically Ngema said in an interview in 1994: “People are still scared of each other. We have to break that down. More than any other country in Africa, this is where integration can really work.”

Says one actor: “I saw Maria Maria and left at interval. It’s just that it wasn’t much different from what he has done. We thought it would be an advantage having him holding such a crucial position at the Playhouse. But he won’t even honour appointments to discuss our ideas.” Another agreed: “People help him compose, then he pays them off completely – also with scripts … In the end everything is credited to him.”

What mystifies Ngema the most is that he attracts mainly an African audience to his musicals, yet overseas attracts white audiences. “Why is it that whites in South Africa can’t appreciate my work?” Zietsman reasons: “Whites don’t go to black shows. It’s the reality of South Africa … and black people don’t attend symphony concerts.”

But Ngema is indeed successful and it shows. A flashy dresser, he owns two cars, a 4×4 jeep with Mag wheels plus a silver 1995 Camaro V8 sports car valued at R914 733. His isolated double-storey, face-brick home in Gillitts is huge, but by no means a mansion. It’s quite shabby: rotting floorboards and faded sundecks, no plants and a few scrappy deckchairs. Poster-sized photos of Ngema with Mohammed Ali, Quincy Jones and Mandela decorate the hallway. A 72-inch TV blares away on a Sunday afternoon, while Ngema sips a Castle. There are also no books. His “Techno Bush Recording Studio” has state of the art equipment with a massive mixing desk.

Ngema (41) hails from a family of seven and says he enjoys “solid relationships” with both his wives, Cedi Ngema (23) who lives in Zululand, and Leleti Khumalo (28) who lives with him. “During the Sarafina 2 issue my wives were most supportive. They kept telling me my work is good and that really helped.” But an ex-Playhouse employee who has worked with Ngema says: “His casting couch happens on his big office desk.” Another says: “He is a pig of a man. I’ve seen him in action and he’s a womaniser, a complete tart.”

To which Ngema calmly retorts: “Everyone knows I love women and am not ashamed of it, but now I try to go slow … No, I’m not into men at all, I’m an African, a real African,” his voice raising an octave to make his point. “And, no, that doesn’t mean I’m homophobic.” His reputation even extends to Swaziland, where it’s known that praise poets actually say: “Lock up your daughters, Ngema is in town.” “But it’s actually a form of praise,” explains the source.

Gitanjali Pather, Playhouse education and development planner, praises Ngema, saying: “I think he’s wonderful in terms of profiling South African theatre on a world stage … At a crucial time he did more than any other in highlighting the injustices of South Africa … We need him as an icon. Regarding Sarafina 2, people must remember that there were transparencies in tendering procedures during the apartheid years.” Artistic director of Durban’s Actor’s Co-operative, Garth Anderson, says: “In the black theatre community there’s an almost hysterical reverence for the man … But his productions, Mama, Sarafina, and Magic at 4am lack integrity in that they contain the elements of Broadway musicals which lack the heart and soul of Africa.”

Ngema sees himself as a modern-day Gibson Kente and equates his status to that of Andrew Lloyd Webber. “Remember I grew up as a cattle herd boy and it was my father, Zwelikhethavantu, a beautiful singer, who taught me to stand up for myself. And as I was the youngest I landed up doing all the domestic work and learnt how to cook well. So one day if my career ends I’ll apply to a hotel to become a cook.”

Ngema’s Maria Maria runs from July 12 to August 3 at The Playhouse in Durban