With a modest discography on Spotify recorded from a tiny studio plonked in a busy lounge somewhere in Colesberg’s Zwelitsha Township, MekzaRsa – real name Asemahle Mekile – is less a standalone than a worn-out cliche of the near-impossible dream of ‘blowing up’ someday. To rock the cool apparel, fill up venues, make his mama proud and earn his respect amongst the fellas.
Mekza could be any other struggling artist before the fame: tortured, misunderstood but resilient in spite of all the reasons to hang up the microphone. He could be anyone of the wannabes who wanted it all but crashed and burned before they had anything it all. For every Arthur Mafokate or Dj Maphorisa, thousands of hopefuls disappeared without so much a song or a name. Sometimes it was an overdose, or a car that was going way too fast or the noose in a cheap motel room on a seedy street. Or they simply smelled the coffee, stopped dreaming and settled into a nine to five. Either way, it’s a long way to the top, even in the kasi music scene.
There are a thousand and one reasons for Mekza and Dida – the self-taught producer whose faith in the young musician stretches as far back as they were yay high – to let go of the dream. Between the kids jostling to watch cartoons on the television, or the women’s church society visiting for tea, anything can unexpectedly get in the way of a recording session at Big Dreams Entertainment studio. Founder and CEO of the record company, Dida – real name Anele Siyonzana – is the guy who between these interferences is smilingly laying beats down, poring over PDF files on the legalities of the music business and sending out pleading e-mails to potential funders.
Theirs is the well-worn township script of anyone who’s ever dared to dream of making it. No role models, half-broken equipment, trial and error, and very few people willing to pay to see them perform. The odds are stacked high but the gentleman’s agreement here is this: defy them! Or, atleast try to. Nobody is coming to save anybody, and if by some slim chance they are, then they might as well find you halfway there. So, for now it’s down to the thankless groundwork: gatecrashing shebeens, schools and anywhere else to politely ask to perform free of charge. Sure, Mekza needs the money but he has also learnt to appreciate the confidence that can only be acquired from performing live.
He has learn to make the most of what he has: the cranky laptop, second-hand smartphone, and never forgetting to consciously tell himself that something’s got to give, someday. In such circumstances the best investment he can make is towards his own development. That means focusing on tightening up the lyrics and vocals, spitting a slick rap bar here or groaning through an intense ragga-ish chant there and constantly refining his craft to find something that works.
His creative process is spent sitting in a room somewhere, notepad in hand, cracking his brain for the right words. On good days, the inspiration just comes from all around: the disillusionment and broken dreams that are a by-product of unemployment and the mother he so badly wants to make proud. Despite catching a bad rep, few environments offer the kind of sad songs and poems that the township has a knack for inspiring. Then there’s the marketing: social media may be virtually free, but everyone else is there and to establish a presence means paying severely with your time. Building a fanbase over there is doable but the competition is tight and unless you’re bringing something exceptional, it’ll often take years.
To box or ‘generise’ his music, those who know of these things might say it’s a slowed, sloppy afrobeats with sprinklings of slum ragga and hip-hop but at its basest it’s avant-garde and Mekza is something of a bush league experimentalist. His verses are long-winded poetics, edgy punchlines and the hooks don’t drop on the listener in a crescendo but are quietly weaved into the tantric melodies. Not really the kind of joints to get the party started but exactly what one might need when you’ve had your fill and are looking for a come-down or something deeply meaningful to turn over inside your brain.
The obstacles notwithstanding, MekzaRSA has been nominated for best afro pop artist award at the 2026 Northern Cape Music Awards to be held in Kimberley on 5 September. With about 48 nominees across various categories, Mekza will be going up against six of the province’s finest. He has put in the hard work and he asks those who might be reading this to vote for him. Those details are below.
