Friday, September 19, 2025

Breaking Cycles: Heritage, Healing, and Hope in South Africa

A conversation about transforming historical trauma into community empowerment through art, activism, and authentic storytelling.

How do we honour our history while building a future that heals rather than repeats old wounds? This question sat at the heart of a powerful conversation on Sakhisizwe-Building the nation-Bou die nasie, featuring three remarkable South Africans who've turned their personal struggles into community transformation.

Amanda Lan, a martial arts practitioner who channels ancient wisdom into modern wellness; Emile Jensen (Emile YX), a hip-hop artist using music as both resistance and education; and Brenda Leonard, Managing Director of Bush Radio, creating platforms for marginalized voices. Together, they represent something profound: the understanding that healing our communities requires both acknowledging our wounds and celebrating our resilience.

"We didn't go through a healing democracy, we just moved on - and that's not good enough." Amanda's words cut straight to the core of South Africa's unfinished business with its past. For her, martial arts became a way to release the anger that many South Africans still carry - anger that gets passed down through generations like an unwanted inheritance.

Emile's journey began with breakdancing on the Cape Flats, where silence was survival and dance became language. "You know, a lot of kids at school, they're told to be quiet, so they go inside themselves and express in artistic ways," he explained. Breaking offered something unique - a way to battle without violence, to vent without harm.

But perhaps most striking was Brenda's account of confronting her own trauma decades later. Walking into a police station for a routine task, she found herself frozen at the sight of where state it was in. The body remembers what the mind tries to forget.

One of the most haunting moments in the conversation came when Amanda’s daughter asked why she kept talking about apartheid: "It's gone, it's forgotten." Her response - "I actually don't [know what you went through] because you've never spoken about it" - revealed a painful truth about how trauma silences itself across generations.

Emile echoed this pattern: "People were saying, we never ever spoke about this. They didn't even tell their children of that experience." His song "Butterflies Fly By," inspired by his own protest experiences, unleashed a flood of suppressed memories in his community. People living in Australia wrote about still remembering the smell of tear gas. Children discovered their families' involvement in the struggle for the first time.

This silence isn't just personal - it's political. As Emile pointed out, when we leave our children to be "reared by them" (meaning media and external influences), we lose control of our own narrative.

The conversation took an important turn when discussing identity and terminology. Amanda challenged the term "coloured" directly: "I hate the term coloured because I am not a rainbow. You don't see pink in me... Don't give me a derogative term, because I am of mixed heritage. That is my honour."

Brenda approached it from a political consciousness perspective, choosing to identify as a black South African: "Because that time you had black and whites. If you were in the broad range of black, you were oppressed."



But Emile went deeper, connecting language to heritage: "That word 'awe,' when you go do the research, you find that it actually exposes a connection to the Indonesian archipelago... The language actually exposes your heritage." He pointed to how parents were conditioned to suppress these linguistic connections, perpetuating the trauma of cultural erasure.

Amanda made a crucial observation about how oppression has evolved: "I prefer to say we're in a different ballgame at the moment. It's psychological warfare, which was used back then already. The only difference is now it's masked in a nice guise."

Social media, she argued, has become a tool for mental colonization, with young people following influencers blindly without questioning. Emile drew a stark parallel: "During apartheid, you were called either askari or impimpi if you worked with the enemy. Economics was the enemy. Now you're called the influencer."

What united all three speakers was their use of creative expression as both resistance and healing. But they were careful to challenge misconceptions about their art forms.

When martial arts was described as "aggressive," Amanda corrected this immediately: "Dance actually is a heritage - if you move and you flow like water, it's martial arts. So that's why I go back to the Khoisan, because the Khoisan danced on the soil. That is our heritage."

She further more explained how hip-hop's origins in kung fu movies created a connection between movement and resistance: "Hip hop's influenced by Kung Fu... when one says it's a violent art, I beg to differ."

These art forms aren't just creative outlets - they're repositories of cultural memory and vehicles for transformation.

So how do we break cycles of inherited trauma while honouring ancestral wisdom? The speakers offered several concrete suggestions:

1. Decolonized Education

Emile proposed the need for "a madrasa for all Africans" - a decolonization process that removes the lies and programming from formal education. "It takes out all of the lies that they forced on you. Like they deprogram you."

2. Community Storytelling

Brenda emphasized bringing lived experience into classrooms: "We need to tell the stories of our people. We need to tell the stories of our experiences." She offered to speak at schools for free about her experiences at events like the Bisho Massacre, but found little interest from educators.

3. Parental Responsibility

Emile stressed that "primary teachers are the parents," describing how he created his own lullaby’s and told his children traditional creation stories from childhood. "So they grew up with a different perception."

4. Economic Empowerment

Amanda was clear about the connection between healing and power: "The minute I have power; I can change things. And the more power I acquired, the more changes I could mandate, not just for myself, I could assist communities."

Perhaps the most complex issue raised was how to pass knowledge to a generation that expects instant gratification. As Amanda noted: "A lot of children want it just handed over..."

The solution, these activists made, isn't to hand over the baton unconditionally, but to find young people willing to "meet me halfway. I don't want to beg you. If you don't want to work for it, I'm not going to hand it to you."



As Heritage Month approaches each September, this conversation offers a roadmap for meaningful engagement with our past. It's not about celebrating a sanitized version of culture, but about honest reckoning with trauma, authentic connection to ancestry, and practical steps toward healing.

The speakers reminded us that heritage isn't just about what we inherit - it's about what we choose to pass forward. In Emile's words: "We have power to bring about change... Nobody's coming. This idea that politicians are going to save us. They are supposed to work for us."

This conversation challenges us to move beyond heritage as performance toward heritage as transformation. It asks us to:

Question the narratives we've been told

Share our stories authentically with the next generation

Use creative expression as tools for healing

Take responsibility for our communities' future

Recognize the connections between past oppression and present challenges

 

As we navigate Heritage Month and beyond, these voices remind us that the work of healing is ongoing, collective, and urgent. The cycles of trauma can be broken, but only if we're willing to face our past honestly and work actively toward a different future.

The conversation ends with Emile's practical commitment: working with communities to create "agents of change" - not waiting for salvation from politicians, but taking responsibility for the transformation we want to see.

In a world where the past refuses to stay buried, these three South Africans offer a path forward: through art, through truth-telling, through the hard work of healing. Their message is clear - we have the power to break the cycles, but we must choose to use it.

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