Lindokuhle Sobekwa, last year’s FNB Art Prize winner, pauses thoughtfully when asked how he hopes his exhibition will make people feel.
“That’s a difficult question,” he admits. After a reflective moment, he adds, “I want people to feel like they are reading a poem twice.”
This sentiment resonates as I stand among the crowd at the Johannesburg Art Gallery just as Sobekwa concludes his speech at the opening of his solo exhibition Umkhondo: Going Deeper.
His earlier words echo in my mind as I take in the works on display, and I realise his intention is fulfilled — his work does indeed feel like a poem you keep returning to, each time uncovering new layers of meaning.
The exhibition features two bodies of work: I Carry Her Photo With Me, a deeply personal project that has been turned into a film, and Ezilalini (The Country), an ongoing exploration of rural life in South Africa.
The film is enriched by a score by jazz musician Nduduzo Makhathini, whose music adds an emotional depth to the visual narrative.
As Sobekwa talks about the works, his voice carries a quiet intensity, revealing the emotional toll of revisiting such profound experiences.
“These projects have prompted me to look into deeper parts of myself and where I come from,” he says.
This journey, he explains, has meant confronting old wounds while simultaneously healing them.
One of the most poignant pieces is I Carry Her Photo With Me, which chronicles the disappearance of Sobekwa’s sister, Ziyanda.
Yet the search for Ziyanda evolves into something more — a quest for self-understanding and a reflection on the collective pain many South Africans endured during the struggle against apartheid.
Sobekwa’s work speaks not just about his personal loss but also of the many South African families who lost loved ones in those turbulent years.
I am reminded of a moment from my own life — a family who once came to our home with a photo of their brother, who had gone into exile in Tanzania and never returned.
In their search for answers, they were directed to my mother, who had buried that painful chapter deep within her.
She immediately recognised the man in the photo and knew where he had been laid to rest, alongside others who never made it home.
My mother helped with the repatriation of his body and his burial — a story that echoes the experiences of countless South Africans grappling with unresolved grief.
In the exhibition’s darkened screening room, I watched Sobekwa’s film about piecing together Ziyanda’s life. As the projector flickers, I find myself in tears, haunted by the thought of how many families are still living with the unknown, still searching for answers.
Sobekwa’s inspirations include documentary photographers such as Ernest Cole, whose book House of Bondage left a lasting impact on him.
“The first time I saw that book, I cried. There was something in those images that struck me deeply.
“For a long time, I wanted to create work that didn’t necessarily make people cry but conveyed the rawness and sensitivity to the subject, much like Cole did when documenting the harsh realities black South Africans faced under apartheid.”
Sobekwa’s own work achieves this, capturing both the sensitivity and rawness he so admires.
Each photo in Ezilalini (The Country) is imbued with layers of history and emotion, inviting viewers to reflect on their own experiences and the broader South African narrative.
“I hope this work can help people relate and reflect, given the history of South Africa,” Sobekwa concludes.
His show not only compels us to revisit the past but to look inward, connecting deeply with stories that continue to shape our present.
The exhibition Umkhondo: Going Deeper will run at the Johannesburg Art Gallery until 25 March.
