Finding Our Voice
by Drew Haller and Mishkah Miyagi
Amongst clothing stores, recreation centers and antique collectors, Ground Zero café rests in Observatory. Famous for its artisanal Marley Coffee, vegan menu and public activation projects, it is a dwelling point for Cape Town’s urban hustlers and creatives. Ground Zero has hosted a number of events in the name of social consciousness and environmental awareness. On the 18th of November 2020, they cleared a gathering space again for another collaborative Poetry Jam with That Eclectic.
While 2020 was drawing to a close, many of us were still seeking a safe space to voice our sorrows . The somber year had reminded us that empathy balances at the fulcrum of the human experience. We saw that ‘health’ is more than a physical state. Human wellbeing also relies on social cooperation, resilience and grounded mental health practices. We had to look past our material desires and concerns, and consider our neighbors. The people sitting before Ground Zero’s make-shift stage believed in this too. They viewed self-expression as a respite that could relieve the weight of the past and the present. Loneliness, loss and suffrage becomes less burdensome when you confide in a support system.
Communal story-telling is an age-old tradition in African diasporas. Aural performance is a mode to share memories, survive folklore and recall legacies. Before print and written literature, ballads, song and dance animated our ancestral tributes. In a digital world, modern communication channels and entertainment media replaces these traditions. Yet, the spirit of in-person dialogue cannot be substituted. Each pause, intonation, gaze, and breath personifies the words we carry within us, bringing dimension and depth to a truth. Spoken word connects the audience to the poet, making them witnesses to a testimony. Orality is a touchstone for such nuanced emotional expositions. Even if language barriers refrain us, the voice can lead us to understanding. Performance art thus embodies the ardent intentions of our thoughts, experiences and words.
Mishkah Miyagi is a Cape-Town based illustrator and designer whose artistic style explores ‘irreverent critique’. It is emotive and disarming. Mishkah champions her friends with the type of optimism that embraces both good and bad. She views her art as a vocation.
“Creatives have a social responsibility to use their skills to amplify unheard voices. Representation is incredibly important to me and it’s the core of what I do.”
When Mishkah heard the call for communal reflection , she urged her friends to perform. She notes the rarity of such an opportunity, and the value of artistic disclosure. Although she did not perform, she absorbed the magnetic energy anyway.
Like many in the crowd, she was new to the scene. But she describes that the atmosphere was entirely unique. Despite the uncertainty and fear of Covid-19, everybody seemed to welcome each other. Society’s overarching problems were no longer remote, they were immediate. And despite our cravings for ‘normality’, reality was accepted. What resulted was a renewed appreciation for human connection and social intimacy. We were offered an outlet to reconsider our self-regarding habits, and rather prioritize social upliftment.
“The crisis showed us the significance of collective power and social responsibility. Wellness is not an individual issue, but something that has to be managed within a community. Sacrifices to our daily lives were necessary for the health of the people as a whole. I think Western capitalism has prevented us from considering others in this way. This crisis highlighted a need for change. As we find ourselves in the midst of a second wave, this awareness of the collective will carry us forward. But only if we commit to finding new solutions.”
Mishskah shared how these sentiments manifested throughout That Eclectic’s synergistic event.
“We all gathered around a stage that was set in the corner, on chairs, sofas and the floor. It felt like a secret family meeting as we watched people, strangers to each of us in different ways, perform. The evening started with a pre-recorded poem all the way from Finland. Immediately, this drew the audience in. The feeling of closeness despite the physical distance set the tone off for the rest to follow. The crowd was diverse across the lines of race, gender and age. We were able to witness so many different perspectives because of this. There were poems in English, Afrikaans and Xhosa. Some poets rapped, another poet sang. One poet continued to write poems throughout the evening, sharing them periodically. It captured the energy at the event as it was happening. There was a warmth and grace to the atmosphere. The audience willed on poets who struggled with shakiness and nerves, in want of their words. Each poet that left the stage was praised with fist and elbow bumps, knowing nods. As the evening went along, people got more comfortable. People who had not even decided to speak felt emboldened to share their truth. It was beautiful to see the confidence and vulnerability wash over the crowd as time passed.”
Mishkah describes the significant socio-political value that the evening offered too. Disillusioned citizens voiced their concerns for flawed systems, finding momentary catharsis through deliberation and critique. The poet’s words struck at core obstacles to our freedoms. Misogyny, racism, economic inequality, neo-colonialism and gender-based violence were some of the targets. This aided in recovering some of the unity and trust that bring us to commemorate our shared histories, traumas and triumphs.
“My friend Jacana hadn’t planned on speaking that evening but was stirred to perform three poems. Their final poem was a bitter love letter to Stellenbosch University, describing the insidious remains of the institution’s ideological roots and its attempt to conceal it through empty inclusion and seductive scenery. The poem details the surveillance and security employed during Fees Must Fall. After they had finished speaking, I saw so many people come up to them and say how they related and felt seen by the poem. It was beautiful to see the impact a spontaneous moment of courage had on others. It felt like that momentum kept building throughout the night. “
Mishkah then described the revelations and longing that the prolific story-telling kindled.
“Seeing your own experiences or pain mirrored in someone else’s words is so humbling and comforting. Witnessing the complexity of their expression, I could validate certain experiences I’d had. After the evening, and while it was happening, so many unexpressed sentiments came forward in my mind that would be best expressed as poems. The evening niggled at a desire for a method that I had abandoned out of fear of vulnerability and clumsiness. I’m glad to have found my way back.”
Finally, Mishkah notes her love and appreciation for That Eclectic’s work, which aims to promote mindfulness in a way that prioritizes reciprocity and compassion.
“That Eclectic embodies their ethos. The spirit of Ubuntu was definitely present at the event. Their focus on collective consciousness is incredibly relevant to the times we find ourselves in. As morbid as the past few months have been, finding space to play and create has been what has kept most of us sane. Creating safe spaces for engagement, love and joy is critical. I can’t wait to see what they do next.”
You can find Mishkah’s work on Instagram, @Mishkahmissions and behance.
