Within minutes of arriving in the United States for the first time, on November 28, 1959, 27-year-old Zenzile \u201cMiriam\u201d Makeba was whisked to the Manhattan office of the famous Jamaican-American singer Harry Belafonte. After a quick hug, Belafonte exclaimed: \u201cMiriam! We haven\u2019t a minute to waste!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Belafonte, who had seen her performing in London a few weeks earlier, had pulled out all the stops to arrange a US visa for Makeba, a Black South African woman at the height of apartheid. And now that she was finally on US soil, he was determined to make it count.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Less than two days later, Makeba found herself at the NBC studios in Los Angeles trying to keep up with the ceaseless chatter of the makeup artist on the Steve Allen Show: \u201cDon\u2019t worry about a thing honey, you\u2019ll be great. Don\u2019t even think about those 60 million people who\u2019ll be watching.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHow many?\u201d asked Makeba in astonishment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When Allen introduced her, Makeba recalled that the host \u201cactually held me up so I didn\u2019t collapse from fright\u201d. Luckily, the bright lights prevented her from seeing the audience, so she imagined she was singing to her mother, Christina, and her daughter, Bongi, back in South Africa. The trick worked and the audience was rapt by her performance of Into Yam, a traditional isiXhosa \u2013 her native language \u2013 song about a woman in love with a man who is habitually drunk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This contrast between her shy off-stage persona and commanding stage presence was always a Makeba hallmark. The future jazz legend Hugh Masekela first saw her perform in Johannesburg in 1953 when he was just 14: \u201cMiriam came and sang \u2026 and we were just completely mesmerised. We were all madly in love with her, you know. She had such an impact on us, we were just blown away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A few days later, Makeba began a four-week run at a legendary New York jazz club, the Village Vanguard. Before her first performance, Belafonte arranged for her to get her hair done in Harlem. After the stylist had spent hours straightening her hair, Makeba was \u201ctoo afraid to look in a mirror\u201d. When she got back to her hotel and saw what had been done to her, she burst into tears. As she wrote in her first autobiography: \u201cThis is not me. I put my head in the hot water and I wash it and wash it. I am not a glamour girl. I\u2019m just naturally myself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Belafonte invited some of his influential friends to watch that first Village Vanguard show: Sidney Poitier, Duke Ellington, Nina Simone and Miles Davis, to name but a few. Makeba sang a selection of African and English numbers and even one Yiddish song. But it was\u00a0Qongonthwane, a song that one critic likened to \u201cthe popping of champagne corks\u201d, that set the crowd alight. From that moment on, she was known as the \u201cclick-click girl\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As The New York Times noted at the time: \u201cThere are few cases in show business where a performer\u2019s life has changed more suddenly, more dramatically, and with so much promise.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
More than six decades later, her songs would continue to grip Americans. One of her fans? Vice President Kamala Harris, who on November 5 could become the first Black woman president of the US.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Makeba achieved overnight success in the US. But just getting to the country in the first place was even more remarkable. When she was born, she was so sick that her father spent the first two days of her life praying for her to die. No sooner had she recovered than her mother was imprisoned for brewing traditional beer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Miriam Makeba spent the first six months of her life in prison.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Being born Black, poor and female in South Africa should have consigned Makeba to a life of cleaning white people\u2019s houses. But her magnetic musical talent led to one opportunity after another. First, she was allowed to join the school choir a year early. Then she got to sing with a string of township bands, each more famous than the last.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As a 20-something singer touring with the Manhattan Brothers, the biggest Black band in South Africa, she was involved in a crash with a white family\u2019s car that left the white father and one of his children dead. The whites were bundled into an ambulance and the Blacks were left to die on the side of a provincial road. The local \u201cwhite\u201d hospital refused to treat them and one of Makeba\u2019s companions ended up dying an entirely preventable death when he finally reached Johannesburg two days later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In 1956, Makeba was one of the artists chosen to participate in African Jazz and Variety, a touring revue that showcased the best of Black South African music to white South African audiences. As luck would have it, Lionel Rogosin, a US filmmaker who was making a documentary about the evils of apartheid, saw the show. Out of all 36 performers, he felt Makeba was \u201cthe most original\u201d \u2013 so much so that he asked her to star in his film. All she had to do was play herself by singing two songs in a shebeen (township pub) scene.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Makeba was well aware of the perils of irking the apartheid government. But Rogosin promised to take her overseas. \u201cNo one can expect a talent like yours to stay cooped up in South Africa forever,\u201d he implored. Rogosin called his film Come Back, Africa, a direct translation of an African National Congress (ANC) \u2014 a South African political party \u2014 slogan. To avoid police attention, all the filming was done in the middle of the night. Makeba did her short scene and forgot about it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She had more important things to worry about, like playing one of the leading roles in King Kong, a jazz musical with an all-Black cast that was based on the tragic life of South African boxer Ezekiel Dlamini. It is hard to overstate what a big deal King Kong was in the history of South African theatre. The show opened on February 2, 1959 \u2013 just nine months before Makeba\u2019s triumphant US debut \u2013 to an audience that included the (white) Mayor of Johannesburg, a host of (white) mining moguls and the recently-married poster children of the anti-apartheid struggle, Nelson and Winnie Mandela. Makeba performed with a badly sprained ankle, in a shoe several sizes too large, but no one seemed to notice. One white theatre critic called it \u201cthe greatest thrill in 20 years of South African theatre-going\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Towards the end of King Kong\u2019s Johannesburg run, Makeba collapsed while walking past the city\u2019s (white) General Hospital. In true apartheid style, she was driven 20km (12.4 miles) to Nokuphila, the Black township hospital, where she spent two days in a coma. When she woke up, the doctors told her she had had an ectopic pregnancy and was lucky to be alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In August 1959, thanks to Rogosin\u2019s wheeler-dealing, Makeba boarded a South African Airways plane bound for Europe and the Venice Film Festival. Being the only Black person on the plane, no one wanted to sit next to her and she got three seats to herself. When the hostess asked if she would like her seat made into a bed, Makeba took it as her cue to brush her teeth and change into her nightie: \u201cOf course, it seemed natural to me that if I was going to sleep, I should change into my nightie \u2026 Everybody was just staring at me. I didn\u2019t know why.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Makeba was a hit in Venice. Her singing was contagious and audiences had never encountered a Black starlet who refused to straighten her hair or use extensions. Rogosin was dead set on launching her US career. But struggles getting a US visa kept her in limbo in London. Without Belafonte\u2019s help, she may never have made it stateside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When she first got to the US, Makeba steered clear of politics. Her musical career took off and she developed deep and lasting relationships with people like Poitier, Marlon Brando and Martin Luther King. Her bond with Nina Simone was especially tight \u2013 so tight, in fact, that it extended beyond the grave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But the similarities between apartheid South Africa and the Jim Crow South were too glaring to ignore. Belafonte, who was a master at treading the line between music and political activism, served as a mentor. When he and Makeba were denied a table at a restaurant in Atlanta because of the colour of their skin, for example, Belafonte turned the situation to their advantage. He returned a couple of hours later with a media posse to make the following statement: \u201cWhat can we as Americans say to a guest like Miss Makeba? She comes from a land of oppression only to find a situation like this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Slowly, she became something of an anti-apartheid ambassador in exile. As Masekela noted, Makeba learned to use the brief English introductions to her songs to educate the world about apartheid. He said: \u201cI think there is nobody in Africa who made the world more aware of what was happening in South Africa than Miriam Makeba\u2026 Miriam carried the torch for this country, and I think she kept the names of the Oliver Tambos, the Robert Sobukwes [and] Nelson Mandelas alive in people\u2019s minds all that time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In March 1960, Makeba was horrified to read about the\u00a0massacre at Sharpeville\u00a0of 69 people by South African police. As news filtered through slowly to the US, she learned that many of the victims had been shot in the back \u2013 and that two of her own uncles were among the dead. As the historian of South African jazz, Gwen Ansell, puts it, Makeba\u2019s \u201carticulate anger intensified after Sharpeville\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On July 16, 1963, Makeba addressed the United Nations\u00a0Special Committee\u00a0on the Policies of Apartheid. In a quiet voice and taking frequent nervous pauses, the usually consummate performer said:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSome 5,000 people have in recent months been put behind prison bars. Among those who have been jailed and detained\u2026 are many of our prominent leaders which include Chief AJ Luthuli, Robert Sobukwe, Nelson Mandela, Mrs Lillian Ngoyi and only last week, Mr Walter Sisulu\u2026 These people must be released at once. I am certain nobody can liberate his people when he is in a prison cell or concentration camp\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy country has been turned by the [Hendrik] Verwoerd government into a huge prison. I feel certain that the time has come for the whole of humanity to shout, \u2018Halt!\u2019 and to act with firmness to stop these crazy rulers from dragging our country into a horrifying disaster.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
South Africa\u2019s apartheid government responded by cancelling Makeba\u2019s citizenship and banning her music. But Makeba would not be deterred. She spoke to the UN about the horrors of apartheid again the following year. This time she asked:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou and all the leaders of the world, would you act differently, would you keep silent and do nothing if you were in our place? Would you not resist if you were allowed no rights in your own country because the colour of your skin is different from that of the rulers, and if you were punished for even asking for equality? I appeal to you, and to all the countries of the world to do everything you can to stop the coming tragedy. I appeal to you to save the lives of our leaders, to empty the prisons of all those who should never have been there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
By 1966, Makeba had established herself as both a mainstream musical star and a prominent political spokesperson. She had won a Grammy award and she was on first-name terms with not just the Hollywood A-list but also many of the presidents of newly independent African states.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This all changed the following year, when she met and fell in love with Stokely Carmichael while visiting the West African nation of Guinea (they were both in the country for a festival of creative arts, as personal guests of then-Guinean President Sekou Toure). While some of her friends gave her flak about the 10-year age gap (she was the older partner), more were concerned that she was dating a \u201cradical\u201d. Fiercely intelligent and articulate, Carmichael liked to shock. His central quest was nothing more than equal rights for Black people. But in 1960s United States, this in itself was deeply shocking. Time magazine called Carmichael a \u201cblack power-monger\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Makeba saw things differently: \u201cStokely is considered very radical and something of a menace in the US when he talks about Black power, but I don\u2019t see anything wrong with it. Why shouldn\u2019t power be Black?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In a secret internal memo in 1968, J Edgar Hoover, the then-controversial head of the FBI, identified Carmichael as the \u201cblack messiah\u201d most likely to fill the void left by the assassination of Malcolm X. He wrote that Carmichael had the \u201cnecessary charisma to be a real threat to the internal security of the United States.\u201d Hoover took Carmichael so seriously that he got the FBI\u2019s counterintelligence unit to spread the false rumour that he was in fact a CIA agent. The trick, known as \u201cbad-jacketing\u201d, worked: Carmichael suddenly found himself persona non grata in Black Power circles \u2013 a movement he had helped to found and lead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Carmichael\u2019s FBI woes coincided with the start of his relationship with Makeba. And she would not have to wait long to experience the impact of guilt by association. He proposed while they were in the Bahamas, where Makeba was in the process of opening a dress shop. She had been encouraged to open the shop by then-Prime Minister Lynden O Pindling, who was eager to grow Black business in his newly independent nation. But when news of her engagement to Carmichael broke, she was called to the prime minister\u2019s office and told to leave the Bahamas immediately. When she asked why, Pindling responded simply: \u201cBecause Stokely Carmichael is an undesirable here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Makeba was mortified \u2013 she had been a guest of honour at the Bahamas independence celebrations \u2013 but she could not refuse Pindling\u2019s order. Soon after landing in the US, her manager called with more bad news: Concerts and record deals were being cancelled \u201cright and left\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Things went from bad to worse when, the night after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr in April 1968, Carmichael led a protest in the streets of Washington, DC. He lost control of the crowd and the peaceful protest morphed into a maelstrom of riots and looting. According to Clay Risen, author of A Nation on Fire: America in the Wake of the King Assassination, Carmichael had attempted to stop people from looting, but the media \u2013 perhaps influenced by years of CIA badmouthing \u2013 placed the blame squarely on his shoulders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Makeba was philosophical about being cancelled. \u201cIt is over now,\u201d she wrote. \u201cThis wonderful dream come true \u2013 the little African girl who becomes a big star in America \u2013 it\u2019s all over. I refuse to let myself cry. This part of my career is finished. But I am not finished.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When Makeba visited Guinea the previous year, President Sekou Toure had offered to build her a home anywhere in his country. She could not say yes at the time due to her many obligations in the US. But now, as she put it, \u201cI have only one obligation to America: to get out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Makeba lived in Guinea for almost 14 years, during which time she built a third career performing across Africa (apart from her native South Africa) and Europe. When interviewed for a Swiss documentary about her famous mother, Bongi said: \u201cMy mother is not only my mother but the mother of all of Africa \u2013 she is \u2018Mama Afrika\u2019.\u201d The nickname stuck, and she was soon known as Mama Afrika.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In 1974, Makeba persuaded her close friend Nina Simone to move to neighbouring Liberia. The few years Simone spent in Africa included frequent partying with Makeba (Simone once danced naked on the tables of a Freetown bar).<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After her death in 2003, Simone put the bulk of her estate assets into a charitable trust to benefit the musical education of Black African children \u2013 and she named Makeba as the trustee.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But Makeba\u2019s time in Guinea was not all fun and games. Not only did she end up divorcing Carmichael, but she also had to deal with the deaths of her three-year-old grandson, Themba, (who died in her arms) and Bongi, her only daughter, after complications due to premature labour.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A few days after Bongi\u2019s death Makeba received a call from Winnie Mandela expressing \u201cfrom me and our father [Nelson Mandela] how deeply hurt we are that you lost your child in exile. Your only child. We just want you to know that we always think of you\u2026 You mustn\u2019t cry Zenzi [her own people called her by her Xhosa name]. Because when we do get our land back, we will bring all our children \u2013 and also our dead \u2013 back to their own country.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Makeba did eventually return to South Africa on June 10, 1990, a few months after Mandela was released from prison.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After navigating the adoring crowds at the airport, she went straight to Nancefield Cemetery in Soweto. Her mother had died in 1960, while Makeba was in New York. She was unable to return home because the South African government cancelled her passport.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI sat on my mother\u2019s grave and cried. I was like a baby sitting on my mother\u2019s lap asking for forgiveness. I said: \u2018Sorry, Mama. I was not able to see you when they took you to your final resting place. I am sorry I did not see you when you died. But now Mama, I am here. I am home.\u2019\u201d She then tried to find the graves of her grandmother and her sister, but both cemeteries had been bulldozed during apartheid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Four years later, Makeba voted for the first time in her life. In a true full-circle moment, she was touring the US at the time, so she cast her ballot at the headquarters of the United Nations. Her vote was one of millions cast for Nelson Mandela, who became South Africa\u2019s first Black president.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When Makeba died of cardiac arrest during a concert in Italy on November 10, 2008, she had defied the challenges of her upbringing to become a Black feminist icon and a citizen of a free South Africa. As\u00a0Nelson Mandela said at the time: \u201cThe sudden passing of our beloved Miriam has saddened us and our nation\u2026 Her haunting melodies gave voice to the pain of exile and dislocation which she felt for 31 long years. At the same time, her music inspired a powerful sense of hope in all of us. She was South Africa\u2019s first lady of song and so richly deserved the title of Mama Afrika. She was a mother to our struggle and to the young nation of ours.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Since her death, her music has continued to inspire and enthral fans across the globe, including in the US. In 2012, the then-attorney general of California, Kamala Harris, told an interviewer how much she loved listening to Makeba. \u201cMiriam Makeba \u2013 she\u2019s fabulous. She\u2019s African, and she\u2019s got this full, soulful voice.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A voice that Makeba also used to pose bold questions, some of which are now echoing across the US as Harris seeks the presidency.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As Makeba once asked: \u201cWhy shouldn\u2019t power be Black?\u201d And female, for that matter?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Within minutes of arriving in the United States for the first time, on November 28, 1959, 27-year-old Zenzile \u201cMiriam\u201d Makeba was whisked to the Manhattan office of the famous Jamaican-American singer Harry Belafonte. After a quick hug, Belafonte exclaimed: \u201cMiriam! We haven\u2019t a minute to waste!\u201d Belafonte, who had seen her performing in London a […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":39707,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[28,2,31],"tags":[7,30,32],"class_list":{"0":"post-39706","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-culture","8":"category-featured","9":"category-music","10":"tag-apie-project","11":"tag-culture","12":"tag-music"},"yoast_head":"\n