30 South African Songs of Freedom

Music has been an indelible part of South Africa’s freedom. As the Rainbow Nation celebrates 30 years of democracy this week, we break down the most essential tracks.

An illustration showing four South African performing artists (from left) Brenda Fassie, Lebo Mathosa, Distruction Boyz.

OkayAfrica takes a look at 30 South African songs of freedom.

Photo credits: Brenda Fassie (left) photo by ADIL BRADLOW/AFP via Getty Images, Lebo Mathosa (center) photo by Bruno Vincent/Getty Images, Distruction Boyz (right) photo by Gallo Images / Frennie Shivambu. Photo illustration by Srikar Poruri for OkayAfrica.

Artists in South Africa are often asked whether their resolve changed post-1994. For most, it never has, and as this list of 30 songs that have become the soundtrack to the past three decades demonstrates, protest took on other modes of expression. At every juncture, artists have always had something to say. Protest is also not one thing; it’s love, it’s surrender, it’s ululation, it’s joy. Protest is part of being alive, and the 30 songs below are curated to express that life in a musical way.

Hugh Masekela - “Mandela (Bring Him Back Home)”

The end of apartheid came because there was mounting pressure from various international bodies, and South Africa was starting to feel the financial pinch. The ensuing senseless violence that upended communities should not be overlooked. Hugh Masekela’s song came at the tail-end of this entire mass, and it added fuel to the fire, with a feeling that echoed across the country, ‘We are tired, we need change; Bring him back home.’ Three years later, in February 1990, the collective struggle of people at home, as well as international solidarity triumphed, and Mandela was finally set free.

Brenda Fassie - “Black President”

Brenda Fassie’s fierce, celebratory call came along with the dawn of the Rainbow Nation dream. The music video begins with then-42-year-old Nelson Mandela’s interview with a British reporter following a government crackdown in 1964. It then segues into the Afro-pop star’s heartfelt lyrics, chronicling what happened afterwards, as scenes of apartheid-era police rain on the parade of Black South Africans, interspersed with the celebratory mood post-Mandela’s 1990 release.

POC - “Never Again”

Prophets of da City came in rough, rugged and uncut; the realest to hit the stage, straight out of the Cape Flats. This tribute to Nelson Mandela spotlit their importance as a socially-engaged hip-hop outfit. Nothing could have surpassed hearing Shamiel X rap “excellent / finally a black president / to represent,” because that was really the mood of that time. What has transpired since that time is, well, a story for another day.

Boom Shaka - “Free”

Though the struggle for freedom from apartheid had been won, young people began to figure out that there are other freedoms to fight for — the freedom to wear what you want, be what you want, and live how you want. Boom Shaka synthesized these sentiments and presented them in a four-to-the-floor fashion that can still get people from anywhere jumping on top of tables, fists in the air, joy in their hearts, tears flowing in tandem with Lebo Mathosa’s libations for liberation.

M’du - “Y U 4 Me”

This song’s undulating bass and infectious melody is what soundtracked many post-'94 house parties and street bashes. It was a time for celebration, a period that required people to forget about the oppressive years, to pretend that everything would be okay as long as Black faces were in positions of power. In hindsight, that subwoofer sound rattled the bones of our buried past, and began the process of unearthing all that the apartheid years and the oppressive eras that preceded it had sought to bury.

Brothers of Peace - “Traffic Cop”

Deejay Oscar Mdlongwa and producer Bruce Sebitlo, known collectively as Brothers of Peace, introduced their sound via this gem of a record that was part protest music, part dancefloor cleanser. It also helped launch one of the greatest, most enduring partnerships in Kalawa Jazmee, a label and a mindset that gave Mzansi some of the most memorable music we’ll ever know.

Arthur Mafokate - “Kaffir”

This was a clear-headed declaration. Arthur Mafokate’s entrance into the mainstream was marked, as well, by a song of protest, this time against the oppressor that had kept Black African people in shackles since the dawn of time. Mafokate wanted it to be known that calling him and his people the slur would no longer cut it; that we were equals under the new dispensation, end of! The damage that this number did on the dancefloor is the stuff only deejays and radio announcers of that era would be able to articulate. This record sounded the alarm, and introduced Mafokate’s brand of Kwaito to an unsuspecting public. Everyone was sold.

Bongo Maffin - “Makeba”

This song was a dedication to Miriam Makeba, a front-runner in the struggle against apartheid, and a figurehead that opened the door for many South African musicians to kickstart their careers overseas. Bongo Maffin were inspired by her music, her style, and her unmoving dedication to freedom, justice and equality.

Mandoza - “Uzoythola Kanjani”

Kwaito had been facing constant public criticism for its lack of lyrical content, and Mandoza’s breakout hit when he went solo sought to fix that problem. He asked whether it was possible to achieve one’s dreams without taking the initial step to fix one’s life, and lovers of groove concurred that there wasn’t. His absence from the music scene is sorely missed.

Moses Taiwa Molelekwa - “Down Rockey Street”

When Hugh Masekela was putting together a touring band to support him on his homecoming tour, he heard of this young cat named Moses Molelekwa who was killin’ everything moving. He of course called him in, in effect inducting the pianist and composer into a school of greats. Molelekwa did a lot in the short time he was here. He went from pillar to post, knocking balls out of every park he passed against. When the 2000s were rolling in, they found a restless Molelekwa that was absolutely keen to stretch the limits of what jazz can be. While he did find resistance initially, he’s found widespread acclaim and acceptance in the afterlife. He did more than just play tunes; he contributed enormously to the sound of Kwaito through collaborations with his good friend Zwai Bala of TKZee. “Down Rockey Street” is his love letter to the melting point that was Yeoville during that era, a time when the hip, the cool, and the true school found homes away from home. It remains a classic to this day.

Kabelo - “Pantsula 4 Life”

The post-Y2K vibes were in the air. The techno-terror that was doing the rounds towards the end of the 20th century had failed to detonate; humanity had prevailed. It was also a post-9/11 world, reality as we’d known it was bent and out of shape. Kabelo Mabalane had helped create TKZee’s ‘98 smash album, Halloween, better known as the best album in Kwaito history. But his job wasn’t finished; he still needed to let us know what he thought about the state of affairs. “Pantsula 4 Lyf” was the illest, freshest introduction to the pivot — a statement filled with intent, a hood mentality articulation so Mzansian even street-hardened pros had to fall in line and agree. We all became pantsulas that year, and have remained since.

Freshlyground - “Nomvula”

This is a classic record, period. Words aren’t enough, one only has to listen to how vocalist Zolani Mahola managed to process pain in a way that translated universally. One need not understand the language in order to take in the emotion, equal parts paralyzing and energizing. A truly special moment.

Simphiwe Dana - “Mayine”

Rain as a metaphor for cleansing, for spirit reclamation, for healing, for recasting the route and recalibrating direction. Simphiwe Dana had ascended to great heights since her 2004 debut. Her third offering, Kultur Noir, from which “Mayine” is taken, was her settling into a position that she’d been crafting. This healing is what has been needed since the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s mission was aborted mid-way, leaving many wounds open and nothing by way of restorative justice.

Thandiswa - “Nizalwa Ngobani?”

The mid-2000s signaled a period of endless searching. The government had told young people who we were supposed to be. But we needed to undertake that quest ourselves. We needed to self-define in order to design our destiny. Thandiswa Mazwai was also in that same predicament, and undertook the quest with us on this record that also launched her solo recording career.

Skwatta Kamp - “Umoya”

Skwatta Kamp had spent many years languishing in the rap underground. They had exhausted all their tokens where paying dues is concerned, and were intent on exploring new territory. “Umoya” launched them into a commercial market that was flooded by the sound of Kwaito and House music, and they emerged victorious. The outfit broke new ground for Mzansi Hip-Hop acts that followed.

Pro - “Soweto”

If Soweto were a person, it would occupy the highest position in office. The neighborhood is so revered in international circles, and has produced so many notable figures, that it’s impossible to mention. People visiting the country have to make a stop at least once. Pro’s dedication to his ‘hood bangs so hard exactly because he is speaking about the lived experiences of occupying a renowned place that continues to birth legends.

Tumi and the Volume - “‘76”

Tumi Molekane’s pre-Stogie T era had many feats, and his time with The Volume, a trio which comprised Paulo Chibanga and Tiago Paulo of 340ml, as well as bassist Dave Bergman, produced legendary albums. “‘76,” from their debut offering Live at the Bassline, was an instant classic upon release. Featuring the vocal talents of Pebbles, it transcribed to a post-liberation, coming-of-age, Hip Hop and poetry-loving South African youth, the events of those fateful few months that peaked with the Soweto student uprising of June 16, 1976, and spread countrywide. The song highlighted why that generation’s fight to not be taught in the language of the oppressor, among other demands, was not only in line with the protest culture of that time, but set the tone for a change in strategy that led to the first free and fair elections many years later.

HHP - “Harambe”

“Harambe” is gratitude to the struggle for liberation waged by the youth of 1976 and those who came before them. It’s an anthemic call for unity, initiated by one of the greatest emcees Mzansi has ever had. HHP may be gone, and Summers may indeed bang differently without him, but the hits he left us with, like this one, shall serve as reminders to the great heights people can ascend to through at-times hollow phrases like ‘national unity.’

Mo’ Molemi - “Fokof”

Molemi articulated the thoughts and feelings of a generation that was getting disillusioned by the Rainbow Nation promise. The gap of inequality was widening, unemployment rates were still divided along racial lines, and things were generally looking bleak. He condensed national sentiment and put it into a rare mixture of lyrical flair with the undulating presence of a spirited endless toyi-toyi against a dream deferred. Middle fingers were raised.

Ben Sharpa - “Hegemony”

“Why do we have a police protection service / when their duty is to snatch me and arrest my person,” asks a frustrated Ben Sharpa on this Mzansi Rap classic. Sibot’s menacing production underscores the importance of the rallying call: people are tired of being treated in inhumane ways.

Rattex - “The Government” (w/ Ben Sharpa)

Cape Town emcee Rattex had been observing how government officials were carrying themselves in the face of extreme poverty, was irritated with it, and had to put his concerns on record.

AKA - “All Eyes On Me” (w/ Burna Boy, Da L.E.S., JR)

A decade onwards, this song still qualifies as a strong contender for one of the better cross-continental link-ups in recent time. The Burna Boy intro, the beat drop, the raps, the chorus, the nod to Tupac’s great double album – everything was curated to last.

Thandi Ntuli - “Inkululeko”

With South Africa still dealing with its own post-COVID, a song was needed to assist with the collective healing process that we all had to undergo, and Thandi Ntuli had the right words, at the perfect moment. “Masiqale ebuqaleni ukusul’izinyembezi, ukuthoba amanceba…” she sings, a rallying call for a reset right on the heels of a testing period. This song speaks about spiritual liberation, about connecting to a higher purpose, a higher being. And it’s a necessary reminder that the quest for freedom is multi-layered and unending .

Bokani Dyer - “Ke Nako”

“Ke Nako” is about nation building, about unity, about the power of collective consciousness to achieve greater things. And where freedom is concerned, it’s about how people, pulling together in one direction, each providing their own skillset, can achieve a great deal. Bokani Dyer sees it as a moment to awaken people to the possibility of dreams; to the importance of remaining hopeful in the face of adversity.

Iphupho L’ka Biko - “Azania”

Apartheid might be over, but the neo-capitalist state is alive and well. With this comes material and economic prosperity, and the spatially segregated setup of South Africa means that the majority Black population remain locked out of these benefits. In this song, Iphupho L’ka Biko amplifies the struggle for the ownership of land, a topical, generational issue that remained unaddressed when the African National Congress government took to power in 1994.

Msaki - “Anisixabisanga”

Msaki is widely known as the voice of reason and the secret sauce to the success of many dance music records. Her other, lesser-known Folk-inclined work is where she gets to show another side of her, an incisive, fearless critique of the status quo. “Anisixabisanga” — with fellow travelers in the sound, The Brother Moves On — is about how the persistent undermining of the people’s will, in favor of personal fulfillment by those in powerful public positions, is effectively a betrayal of all that they promised to deliver upon when the supposed Rainbow Nation project was launched in ‘94.

Spaza - “Sizwile”

Spaza is an evolving outfit made up of some of Mzansi’s finest musicians. This record is part of the music that soundtracked Sifiso Khanyile’s film, Uprizing!, about the 1976 student protests and the events that transpired. Nonku Phiri’s voice is affecting. She takes the listener and places them there, in the middle of the mess and the confusion and the violent reprisal and the inevitable pain. Malcolm Jiyane (piano, trombone), Gontse Makhene (percussion), and Ariel Zamonsky (bass) worked the angles that resulted in the magic. A moment in time.

Babes Wodumo - “Wololo”

It should never go unmentioned that a young girl from Durban made a song so infectious that the rest of Mzansi had to pay attention. “Wololo” was Gqom’s official entry into the mainstream, and made it possible for a genre that had only made waves regionally to take center stage nationwide. Even Marvel's Black Panther enterprise had to fall in line; Gqom was part of the wave that soundtracked Wakanda.

Kabza de Small - “Khusela” (w/ Msaki)

This song is still as magnetic as the first time it came out. A prayer for healing, a chant for the betterment of nations, a ray of light during a dark period in history, it had people hooked and never managed to let loose. A definite amapiano classic.

Samthing Soweto - “Amagents”

It’s hard to choose one song to sum up Samthing Soweto’s contributions to music. He’s a once-in-a-generation titan who has impacted multiple genres since he emerged in the late 2000s. However, this song, a record for his daughter, along with “Nodoli” from his debut album, are the best way to let generations coming after our own that all might not be okay, but there are guardians on earth who’ll strive to make it a safer place.

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