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A sad story about man man who deserves to be known better.

Michael Tshehla Phahlane, the man who gave Soweto its name

Sam Mathe wrote in Facebook:

Michael Tshehla Phahlane, the man who gave Soweto its name back in
1963, slipped away quietly two weeks ago without a single mention in
local media despite the fact that he was the real doyen of black South
African journalism and one of its finest wordsmiths.

Only the Sowetan carried a 31-word funeral notice accompanied by the
standard black and white photo in the weekly In Memoriam section. He
didn't make it in the obituaries page.

His huge significance in South African journalism in general and jazz
writing in particularly was a fact that the paper's editorial team was evidently unaware of. He was just another dead Sowetan.

The man nicknamed The Indestructible because of his legendary
reputation for having survived a number of near-death experiences,
lived most of his life in obscurity and died in oblivion, thanks to an uncaring, insensitive and oblivious society. He was the invisible man
in the real sense because all South Africans simply refused to
recognise the squat, forlorn figure who roamed the streets of
Johannesburg as one of the city's homeless people. He lived a hard and undignified existence, not out of his own choice but because as a
country we failed him.

Born 26 March 1921 in old Sophiatown, in 1943 he joined Zonk, the
first English language magazine for African readers. He covered a
number of beats including crime reporting but distinguished himself as
a jazz critic, definitely the first one on the continent. He wore his
passion for this noble art on his sleeve and with his elegant but
cheeky prose, championed its beauty and cause on the pages of the racy publication.

Jazz introduced him to a young and lanky pianist from Cape Town. He
loved the shy musician's efforts on the ivories but he didn't like his
name. Johannes Adolphus Botha didn't have a ring of showbiz to it. So
he gave his protégé a new identity - Dollar Brand.

The intrepid scribe reasoned that a dollar was the world's most
powerful banknote at the time and his charge was destined for bigger
things in the US, a brand everyone wanted to experience its dream.
Very prophetic. Years later the protégé expressed his gratitude when
he recorded Bra Timing From Phomolong, a tribute bluesy, meditative
hymn that came straight from the soul of Soweto. It can be found on
Abdullah Ibrahim's 1989 album, The Mountain.[1]

And the old timers will remember Heyt Mazurki, after the legendary
1977 encounter with saxophonist Buddy Tate. There's also Tintinyana.
Originally published in 1971 in the Peace album, it's an evocative
jazz tune dedicated to Phahlane's daughter, for Tintinyana was her
name. She grew up to become a fine lady and brilliant medical doctor
but sadly she passed away in the prime of her life. He also lost his
only son, Dr Michael Phahlane. The US-based psychiatrist was killed in
a car crash in 1981.

In 1983 he was diagnosed with amnesia and confined to Sterkfontein
Hospital, a psychiatric institution for the mentally challenged as a
state patient. One of his fellow inmates was Dimitri Tsafendas. When
Prime Minister Hendrik Verwoerd was assassinated on 6 September 1966,
Phahlane had quipped that Tsafendas had exterminated apartheid. The
authorities never forgave him for that.

His institutionalisation cost him enormously. He lost his Soweto house
and other priceless belongings. It was reportedly auctioned off at the
behest of a vengeful ex-father-in-law. Since his discharge from the
psychiatric institution, Ntatemoholo Phahlane, as the indomitable
nonagenarian preferred to be referred to in his twilight years, has
been struggling to get an RDP house. He initiated a series of
correspondence with the former Gauteng premier, Mbhazima Shilowa and
the Gauteng Department of Housing.

His pleas fell on deaf ears.

"I'm so angry I could explode. I have just returned from the
Department of Housing, at their new 1066 premises in Pritchard
Street," he told a journalist in the spring of 2005. "Nothing seems to materialise concerning my two-year application for an RDP house near
Kliptown railway station.

I'm really homeless. As it is, I have no place to sleep. I do not have
the slightest idea of where I will sleep tonight. Last night I slept
in an open veld in Mzimhlophe. It was also raining. I'm a very worried
man. I do not have anyone to turn to. People I knew in Soweto are long
dead and buried."

In his halcyon days, he earned the nickname Mike Mazurki, after an
American professional wrestler who distinguished himself in Hollywood
playing tough characters ranging from bouncers to gangsters. And true
to his moniker, he feared no one - including Sophiatown's dreaded
gangs, the Americans, the Berliners, the Vultures as well as those in neighbouring Alexandra, the Spoilers and Msomis.

An all-round sportsman, he had a flair for golf and in the square ring
his hard-as-cement fists were reputed to have send many opponents into
early retirement as a result of serious injuries. "They call me
Mazurki because when I was a kid I was pretty fast with my fists," he
wrote. "Those were the good old bad days of Sophiatown - Magictown, I
called it - before they pulled it down and built a place called
Triomf, though that sort of triumph I've been trying to figure out
ever since."

A man about town, his penchant for the best attire on the market was
peerless. "Mazurki dressed like a typical American newshound -
broad-brimmed hat (Fedora they called it then), background or Widmark (mackintosh), sleek Florsheim, Robblee or Nunn Bush shoes and other
US-made clothing he had a strong penchant for," wrote the late scribe
and contemporary, Doc "Carcass" Bikitsha. "He lived as hard as his
American counterparts because he was nurtured in the Viking atmosphere
of Sophiatown and Western Native Township.

To a certain extent, he brought that element of toughness in his
journalism. He did not fear man or god and was frequently on the
receiving end of the stick because of his addiction to the white man's
"fire water". Who was not at the time?"

As editor and columnist at Zonk, he penned a must-read column called Swingcerely Yours. There couldn't have been a more apt name for a jazz
column during the swing era. "I'm no ordinary rapscallion. That's for
sure. I've seen a few beautiful dolls in my time and run into a few
stray hens," he wrote in Mazurki's Zuka, his other column in later
years. "I've also seen the bottom of a few bottles although these days
I'm more sober than your average Joburg magistrate - and believe me,
I've seen a few of them too! By and large, you could say I've drunk
deep of the cup of life and it's given me one helluva hangover."

Although Zonk was primarily about the performance arts and hardly
political, it was only a matter of time before it caught the attention
of the newly elected apartheid masters. The constant scrutiny and
harassment eventually forced owner, Ike Brooks to sell the magazine in
1958. Phahlane resigned in protest and urged his colleagues to do the
same. "I was subsequently charged with incitement and intimidation and
was involved in a sensational court case in which Nelson Mandela
defended me pro bono (for free). I was acquitted."

Other publications he subsequently worked for included included Drum,
Golden City Post, Rand Daily Mail and The World. In 1959 the
Johannesburg City Council launched a competition to find an
appropriate name for approximately 22 black townships situated south
west of the city. The winning prize was ten pounds. After four years
of debates and deliberations, the authorities arrived at Soweto - a
name Ntatemoholo Phahlane has said belongs to him. He´s also credited
with coining monikers for his neighbourhood (Kofifi), Dark City
(Alexandra), Rockville (Moroka) and Kalamazoo (Steve Mokone, the
country´s first soccer export).

Ntatemoholo Phahlane was 97, a sign of his legendary never-say-die
spirit.

[1] Dollar Brand was later known as Abdullah Ibrahim.

--
Steve Hayes from Tshwane, South Africa
Web: http://www.khanya.org.za/stevesig.htm
Blog: http://khanya.wordpress.com
E-mail - see web page, or parse: shayes at dunelm full stop org full stop uk

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