Johnny Clegg's final journey has ended, now we must walk in his footsteps

While we are all born knowing that one day we must die, it’s difficult to accept that even our heroes must walk this same path. One of our champions has fallen, and that’s hard to come to terms with today.

When I first encountered Johnny Clegg, in the late 70s, he was performing with his blood brother and creative partner Sipho Mchunu. The event was a free lunchtime concert held at the University of Natal, at the start of his professional journey.

Their music was heavily censored from the onset, and ignored by state-owned radio.  In the face of constant police harassment, their only way to access audiences was through touring. These live performances brought them into conflict with the Group Areas Act, and they could thus only appear in private venues.

On that afternoon I was a bored schoolboy, playing truant with my friend. I lived a typical life, on my own small voyage through the white noise of high school, driven by surfing and girls, mediated by pocket money, and totally unaware of the importance and injustice of the times.

In search of mischief, or spurred on by destiny, Steve and I slunk off to the varsity, where we joined a handful of cleaning staff and a few nervous academics to watch one of Johnny and Sipho’s first performances.

Instead of the mind-freeze of an afternoon of the Great Trek, followed by rugby practice, my head was unscrewed and my heart was kick-started.

Somewhere between the first twangy notes and their last resonance, my soul changed direction. I had never known that music could sound like this, and that a white guy and a black guy would dare create it together.

My heart knew somehow that things didn’t quite add up in my closeted existence, but my head didn’t yet know the questions I had to ask of myself and my environment.

I had neither the words nor the context to understand this epiphany, and I could only later grasp how the sweet strange music had changed me. I’ve since realised that my experience wasn’t unique.

Today and for years to come we remember the profound impact this exceptional man of change has had on all of us.

His message of hope and identity showed a sceptical world how we could be, and brought joy and dignity in a time of fatalism.

Johnny himself said that the early days of Juluka created a future-state for South Africans, leaving those who watched their performances knowing what could be.

He was one of our finest  – sublime not only as a singer, songwriter, dancer and performer, but also as an anthropologist, activist and role model.

Musically, he is internationally regarded as unique, visionary and enduringly influential. His discography is by any standard is vast, consistently relevant and internationally acclaimed.

His rise to prominence began with Juluka’s searingly honest early albums  (in 1979 their first album, Universal Men, was released, followed by African Litany, Ubuhle Bemvelo [entirely in Zulu], the politically charged Work for All and later Musa Ukungilandela).

With Savuka he presented a polished, visually arresting spectacle, on a bedrock of hit albums and great songs of pinpoint awareness of a rapidly changing society. Third World Child (1987), which broke all international sales records in France, was followed by  Shadow Man (1988), Cruel, Crazy Beautiful World (1989) and Heat, Dust and Dreams ( 1993).

Solo or with a band, Johnny constantly evolved while maintaining unflinching artistic and personal integrity.

Johnny opened our minds to the beauty and potential of our beloved country, and the reasons behind our unspoken sorrows. Fearlessly, he bluntly stated a simple truth which few dared to even think – that despite all we were taught, we are one family on a common journey to the sky.

The day will come when the dust has settled on our brave new society. When we sit around the same fire, the tales will be of the warriors, the pathfinders and the teachers. Johnny Clegg will be foremost.

Thank you, Johnny, for opening our hearts and minds, for risking it all for our beloved country, and mostly for explaining to my soul that I am an African.

Brokensha is a music analyst, lecturer, TV producer and director and DJ. He witnessed Clegg perform many times and worked for him in the late 90s.