community reflections

My name is Nozeti Makhubalo.

I sucked art with sweet milk from my mother’s breasts. Yes, I think I have had the art talent from birth because, even before I was old enough to go to school, I was sewing dresses for my dolls while I was playing poppie huis at home. When I was at the primary school with Miss Ngxata—who was very strict and made us do hard work—I made my first proper piece of clothing. It was a very smart dress that I did and I gave it to my late niece. May her soul rest in peace. Her name was Philiswa.

This is how I started working at Keiskamma Art Project.

My husband was a mine worker. He came back from the Transvaal mines after working there for 22 years. He came back with loss of eyesight, with loss of hearing. His eyesight was blurry and he was hard of hearing as he was drilling for gold underground. On both his hands he had short fingers because his fingers were cut by machines. So, he came back with bare hands—with nothing. He was too old to be employed again and too young to get a pension for an old person no longer going to work.

So, I was suffering a lot.

I'm not a criminal. I'm not a thug. I'm not a pariah. I'm not a thief. But I was a poacher before I joined Keiskamma Art Project. I'm not scared to say that I was a poacher because the sea belongs to everybody, and God put food in the sea so that we don't die; we eat something. So, I was poaching to feed my kids. At that time, I was not disabled. I was young. I was fresh. You know mos being a poacher: the policemen are at your back, and the abalone is in your bag, and you are telling yourself as you are running, ‘You policemen are not going to get this abalone because I'm going to feed my kids!’ I would run through those sand dunes up until I reached the forest. The policemen, they didn’t ever catch me.

When I came back from the sea, I would be busy with my vegetable garden, tending the veggies. I would take veggies from my garden to the village on my donkey cart, to sell there.

I had twins (sadly one passed away in 2018) and one day I was taking the twins to the clinic for their monthly check-ups and I heard the message that there’s a white lady who wants to open a sewing project in Hamburg. I was very happy and excited.

I came to the project with my sewing machine on my head. I just wanted to sew with the machine, or by hand, but I ended up doing the drawings as well. I never knew that I have a talent for art—not up until Mama Hofmeyer told me she had noticed, with her artist’s eyes, that I am a natural artist.  I was so shocked. But today, I'm very proud of myself.

Working with other artists was very interesting, especially working with the young ones from the art school as I never could go to an art school to study art. I am not ashamed of myself for not going to an art school or college because I can do just as much as those that learn from the college.

I remember my first day at the Project. I had a 45 cm x 45 cm square piece of cloth and I drew a cow and embroidered it with embroidery thread. Now I sew some cows with beads. I did work on the first big tapestry, the Keiskamma Tapestry. But working on the other one, the Keiskamma Altarpiece, was the best because that artwork toured around the world.

When I grew up, we used to wave to the planes as they passed over Hamburg, screaming, ‘Please bring me sweets, biscuits, chocolates and dolls!’ As the planes were passing, we were beating our mouths, ‘Woowowouw-woo-waaa-a!’ I never imagined that one day I would be on an aeroplane, travelling overseas as an artist!

This art project has taught me so much, and the experience that I've got from art is amazing. Going to the Project, it heals you inside. It heals you through the needle and the thread, because you are expressing yourself. The Project has brought back my art talent and built my self-esteem. It makes me independent.

Keiskamma artworks spread wisdom through art, giving hope to other communities or societies by sharing true stories of life in our small village of Hamburg in Eastern Cape. We encourage others who have lost hope to wake up and see that, no matter what happens in your life, it does not have to stop you from moving forward.