For transparency’s sake, this one owes you, Dear Reader, an admission: In 2012 or thereabout when I first met Melikhaya Mtshotwana, he wore an apron and a mock chef’s jacket by night and was a hustler during the rest. The name JaykhaZA was hardly a bleep on the local rap radar. At the time we were toiling under the remorseless yoke of informal, ununionised employment, scraping a living in the sometimes thankless lobbies of the service industry. Long hours. Low wages. Obsequiously working for a cranker known to have a notorious reputation for firing people on the spot.
Not so much the courtesy of a disciplinary hearing nor those dreaded Section 189 retrenchment notices – simply turn in your uniform and don’t come back.
Just like that.
Between shifts, Melikhaya would whip out his phone wherefrom crudely-engineered, raw hip hop beats would emanate. Sharpening his rhyme schemes, at the time very rudimentary and – in rap parlance – “underground.”
As a budding emcee, (a rapper to the uninitiated) Melikhaya was honing his skills the truly respectable way in industry circles – by way of rap battles. Taking place in obscure hip hop venues, these oral duels require one to have their wits about them. Notoriously unforgiving, something of a no-holds-barred jostle between lyrical opponents and a healthy vocabulary is naturally something one must have in their arsenal. So too the instantaneous rebuttals to assaults about anything from your parents to your wanting sense of dress.
Spend as much time as Melikhaya did in these verbal confrontations and in time you notice some improvements to your cadence and delivery. You start getting booked to perform, rub shoulders with famous somebodies at Cubana and JaykhaZA becomes a name that people start to remember. As a result, household local cats like The Fraternity whose music video at the time is enjoying massive radio and television airplay explicitly ask you to “ride with the entourage.” It’s a nod to your skill set so you go along, hit the links with the guys, sit in on the studio sessions and hang out with blushing groupies.
Only problem, Jaykha would soon discover, was that despite his talents he was still the new guy, sidelined to the bleachers until the inner circle had polished their material before he would be given an opportunity of unleashing the creativity that was burning within. He was, however, sufficiently aware of his abilities not to subject himself to playing second fiddle.
In 2018 the relationship soured. A low point in his life as people whom he’d learned to trust, his buddies that he shared everything – even money with – seemed to have turned on him. So he figured, “I’d jump ship, build my own boat then ride.” It was easier said than done.
Hitting rock bottom, he didn’t see the point of writing anymore and the slick voice that once graced campus and community radio stations was muted. JaykhaZA, where is he, students and fellow musicians would have wondered? He was in the pits, so down and out as to eschew coming home in fear of being seen in such a sorry state.
Musically though he’d generated enough of a buzz around himself to realise that he’d “reached the ceiling in Bloemfontein.” The City of Roses had become too small for the flamboyant rapper who sometimes wears his cap sideways from Colesberg’s eZantsi location.
It’s a documented fact where one is to turn if they want to be taken seriously in what is a highly competitive entertainment industry. Hauling a suitcase, little money and a head full of dreams, it was then off to the belly of the beast – kwandonga ziyaduma “where the walls thunder” in Zulu expression – Jo’burg via KwaZulu Natal and Pretoria. Many would’ve guffawed at this move. How many small-towners – plattelanders nogal – venture to the City of Gold and live to tell about having found so much as a modicum of fame? In 2019 he “hit the mic,” dropping the singles Ziyawa and Khumbul’ekhaya.
Around this time, his clothing line Amandla Clothing also started gaining traction. Co-founded in 2016, the trendy brand has been seen worn by artists as reputable as Kwesta – he who boasts a celebrated collaboration with American rapper Rick Ross.
Gradually, JaykhaZA’s authentic releases that somewhat fly in the face of sanitised commercialism caught the ears of the “heads” – hip-hop enthusiasts. Both the industry and the street began showing him love, inviting him to prestigious award ceremonies and a few weeks ago favourably receiving his latest musical offering, uZawtsha. An ode to his Xhosa roots, the music video paints a picture of man well-versed in his heritage and in his identity. A familiar theme this from a cat who clearly does not want to be caught up in the cocky, self-important frills of hip-hop culture. Sure, for theatrics he might occasionally be seen flashing Randelas (money), all iced out (bejeweled), cruising around in flashy whips (cars) in his videos but that would appear to be more for special effect than a personal inclination to crass materialism and excess.
On the video to the song Church, for instance, shot from a rundown inner city area riddled with shacks and sewerage, emerges Jaykha with a waskom. Despite the seedy environs and poverty, his neighbours appear affable enough. This is no doubt a pointed portrayal of his own upbringing in eZantsi. By most accounts an impoverished place but the people are still unequivocally hued to the noble tenets of Ubuntu.
Looking fresh in his floral garb on Dream, he throws up gang signs amid palm trees and – as he is wont – raps in both English and vernacular. The accompanying beat is a modern, yuppie kind that regales one’s feet to tap agreeably.
On This Is Hip Hop, – a personal favourite – the beat is a 90s throwback to the iconic G-funk era of the genre with deep basslines and goosebump-inducing synthesizers. He spits one “dope” (good) verse, his flow alternating between his normal voice and an endearing high pitch.
Betta Than, a cocksure number, catchy and nimble on the hook (chorus) with one of the best beats in Jaykha’s discography. This one complies with all the ingredients that would turn it into a pretty hot radio turkey.
Coming from what he calls “a small town with big dreamers,” JaykhaZA has exceeded the wildest expectations. This is a cat who, upon completing Matric, sat his parents down and told them that he already knew what he wanted to do with his life. Needless to say they must’ve raised eyebrows when discovering that college did not feature anywhere in his plans. Instead, he would try his luck, pursue his dreams and hope for the best.
So far so good.
Hip hop royalty take selfies rocking his clothing gear and he’s worked with some of the biggest producers in the game. Here we’re talking geniuses who’ve made songs for the likes of AKA, L-tido, Big Zulu and K.O. No, your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you Dear Reader, he really has.
And just when one thought the kid had no more surprises up his sleeve, I tune in to Trace Urban (DStv channel 325) and what do I see? In a white top and red shorts, surrounded by a bevy of gorgeous ladies, there, in slow motion, gyrates Melikhaya “JaykhaZA” Mtshotwana. A kid from the gustblown streets of Colesberg, an ex kitchenhand, now in the same music video as Blaklez (who is cooly kitted out in an Amandla t-shirt) and – arguably the biggest hip hop artist on the continent right now – Cassper Nyovest. Also, through his independent music label, Mashalon Music, he produces his own music.
I’m floored.
Have to take a closer look.
It’s a surreal moment. JaykhaZA has accomplished what most of us can only dream of. As such, turning to a friend of mine whilst watching the video, it was an honour to be able to say, “broer, I know that guy.”