Ngihlezi la, ngiyacabanga

Why I'm thinking about Manala

I first came across Manala during PUMA's H-Street campaign shoot. While everyone else was busy preparing for the next shot, I found myself paying attention to something much smaller: a beautifully designed set of press-on nails. They stayed with me long after the shoot wrapped.

Months later, I was still thinking about them. Curiosity eventually got the better of me. I wanted to understand the person behind the work, not just how Manala started, but how someone builds a practice around care, patience and making things with their hands.

This conversation is the result.

When did you realise you wanted to create Manala?

What building Manala has taught her.

How has building Manala shaped how you see yourself as an artist?

Photography via @manala_za

Building community.

The Press-On Sip & Paint feels like more than a workshop. Why was that important to you?

"We're constantly online scrolling our lives away...I wanted to pour back into the community, and the Press-On Sip and Paint experience allows me to do just that by transferring skills a nail at a time, and maybe even inspiring someone — even if it's just one person — to start."

Nail painting session with @manala_za & @createpaintandsip

Photographed by @khocy_pics, for @leagokunene

Featuring @leratophasha_ · via @manala_za

Reigniting the spark.

What do you return to when your creativity feels quiet?

When words aren't enough.

You once said, "When I can't speak, I'd rather create." What does that mean to you?

"I see art in layers, break it down to build it up again and vice versa. It is a form of therapy for me. When I can't speak I'd rather create...sometimes it's as simple as making a client happy by bringing their vision to life."

Custom set for @_rezstudios · via @manala_za

"When I can't speak,
I'd rather create."

I went into this conversation with a list of questions written to guide it. I left with something closer to an answer, that the things we're most particular about often end up pointing us toward the work we're meant to do.

Check out her amazing work at @manala_za.

Why I'm thinking about Ifa Lakwa Mthethwa

Every now and then you stumble across a piece of work that refuses to leave your mind. This was one of those.

I went into Ifa Lakwa Mthethwa expecting a good story. What I didn't expect was to spend so much time thinking about the world it created and what that world represented.

Firstly, I never thought I'd find myself so hooked on a television series that was produced before I was born. From the opening scene, where we meet the Mthethwa brothers dressed to the nines, casually enjoying a round of golf, I knew I was in for something special. Ifa Lakwa Mthethwa follows the lives of a prominent Black family navigating life in post-apartheid South Africa, but what kept me coming back wasn't just the story.

At first, I thought it was the character development. Then I thought it was the writing. The more I watched, though, the more I realised I was fascinated by something much bigger. I was fascinated by the world. There's one thought I kept coming back to while watching the series.

The Mthethwas never feel like they're performing success.

It's in the way they dress, the tailoring, the watches, the jewellery and the small details all quietly communicate who they are. Their homes feel lived in, the cars make sense and the golf course doesn't feel like a statement. Neither do the restaurants they frequent or the circles they move in.

Nothing ever feels like the production is trying to convince us that this family belongs in these spaces. They simply do. It's the kind of confidence that says, "We're true to this, not new to this."

That subtlety is what stayed with me. Too often, wealth on screen is presented as spectacle. Here, it feels like an environment. It's simply the world these characters inhabit, and because of that, you stop paying attention to what they have and start paying attention to who they are. And that's where the show really shines. Every character wants something. Everyone is working towards something bigger than themselves.

Their ambitions don't always lead them down the right path, characters like Nana and Bafana remind us of that but their decisions always feel rooted in desire, fear, love or pride rather than existing simply to move the plot forward.

The women, in particular, stood out to me. Their stories aren't confined to what society expects of them. They have careers, ambitions, opinions and agency. They make difficult decisions, chase their own goals and exist as fully realised people rather than supporting characters in someone else's journey.

Watching that in a series set in 1996 felt surprisingly refreshing. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered what it must have felt like to watch Ifa Lakwa Mthethwa when it first aired. To see a successful Black family portrayed with this much care in post-apartheid South Africa must have meant something. Whether viewers saw themselves reflected in the Mthethwas or simply saw a future they hadn't yet imagined, I can't help but think representation like this mattered…and it still does.

There's absolutely a place for stories about struggle, crime and survival. Those stories are part of who we are too. But they shouldn't be the only stories we tell about ourselves. Sometimes representation looks like allowing Black characters to exist without constantly having to justify why they belong. Sometimes it looks like watching a family navigate love, ambition, betrayal, business and legacy while accepting, without question, that this is simply their world.

Maybe that's why Ifa Lakwa Mthethwa has stayed with me. Not because it reminded me of the past. But because, almost thirty years later, its world still feels aspirational, thoughtful and remarkably modern.

Still thinking...

One of my favourite things about storytelling is world-building.

The best stories don't just introduce characters. They create environments that feel so complete you forget you're watching fiction. You believe the homes, you believe the relationships, you believe the conversations. Most importantly, you believe the people.

That's what Ifa Lakwa Mthethwa gave me. Not just a compelling story, but a world that felt lived in. And that's the kind of storytelling I can't stop thinking about.

One of my favourite things about music is that it has a way of documenting seasons of our lives better than we ever could. Sometimes it's a single song. Other times, it's a creative movement like Flip February that reminds you just how much incredible music is being made right here at home.

This month's playlist is a collection of songs, flips and sounds that have been keeping me company lately. Some are new discoveries, some I've had on repeat. Others have simply refused to leave my head.

If you've made it this far, press play. See you on the other side.