The triumph of Tshepiso Mazibuko: The essence of a generation
It is hard not to notice a certain irony in the title of the exhibition that won South African documentary photographer Tshepiso Mazibuko two major prizes in France recently.
She walked away with both the Discovery Award (public vote/people’s choice for the main Discovery Louis Roederer Foundation Award) and the Madame Figaro Photo Award at the Rencontres d’Arles festival in Arles last month.
They were for her exhibition Ho Tshepa Ntshepedi Ya Bontshepe — Sesotho for “to believe in something that will never happen”. But the recognition did happen.
After finding out that I had been battling to track her down through a third person, she made contact with me directly — my kind of girl.
“I have been trying to make the most of this trip; please send some questions and I will respond as soon as I can,” she replies after I suggest sending her questions via WhatsApp.
I could tell she was happy and thoroughly enjoying her time in France. But I was on deadline — that’s when I started lining up my prayers because, while I could understand her perspective, I also needed to do my job.
Back home, teaching her classes at the Market Photo Workshop in Johannesburg, the buzz has only slightly worn off.
“To be quite honest, I was quite surprised,” the 29-year-old tells me of her experience in France. “I wasn’t really expecting much; I was just grateful to be invited.
“When I realised I had won two consecutive nights, it was a very humbling moment for me. Just to thank God because I have been through so many trials — a win for me actually felt quite nice.”
Mazibuko says the awards were endorsed by the fact that people came up to her during the festival to congratulate her on her work.
“I realised that it is genuinely the public that vote for you.
“For me, the most important prize was the public prize — just having validation from a community that doesn’t even understand the issues that I was speaking about — instead they understood the emotion.”
She says the human connection came through from her work and it made her very happy that so many people related to it.
Mazibuko chuckles as she shares that she will not be in survival mode financially for some time.
“What these prizes do is buy me some time to tap into my artistic genius without having to hustle.”
Ho Tshepa Ntshepedi Ya Bontshepe is work about self and peeling back each layer of herself. To believe, as the title says.
She has always been a documentary photographer, telling other people’s stories, and now she has created a project to tell her own story.
“I wanted to make sure the work was really in tune with what I believed in and the first thing was to have a vernacular title to spark relatability because it was work produced for the people of South Africa,” she says.
Mazibuko’s project examines the impact of the political label “born-free” on the generation of black South Africans who came into this world after 1994.
“It was from a point of frustration that I started these works.
“I felt like I was living a double life where, at home, I was celebrated and expected to make something of myself — but when you go out into the world you realise that it is not as easy as it looks.
“By virtue of being a born-free, some systematic hardships are still there and you have to prove yourself beyond the colour of your skin.
“Also there is an element of question about whether you deserve things or are they just giveaways, so it’s those eternal thoughts I wrestle with,” she says.
Mazibuko, who is from Thokoza on the East Rand, began her photography journey in 2012 when she joined the Of Soul and Joy programme, an NGO that provides young photographers with training.
She had observed how many dreams had been shattered and how the township can be demoralising and demotivating, how everyone is fighting to get out every day.
“You see ads where they are celebrating the born-frees — we were sold a dream and we quickly realised that things do not pan out that easily for us.
“The main purpose of the work is to portray shared stories and narratives, and also hope, in a place that is not really hopeful.”
The works on Ho Tshepa Ntshepedi Ya Bontshepe date from 2017 and, if you know anything about the township — the more things change, the more they stubbornly stay the same.
Mazibuko feels the work might need to continue because the born-frees in the townships are still facing real problems that cage them every day, and from those problems, more problems surface.
“When I look at the reality of the township youth, it really breaks my heart,” the photographer says.
“I am wondering if I should have a continuation of the work.
“I feel I did not even touch on half the issues that affect the township youth,” she says.
For those who have no connection to the township, these stories might be unimportant. However, for those who live them, there is nothing more essential than an outlet because the big beast that is the township is always ready to eat them up.
For photographers who aspire to achieve recognition in their careers, Mazibuko says: “Stay true to yourself, don’t follow what you think sells and change your own story.
“With hard work, everything will come through for you.”