Mzwakhe Mbuli is beloved in South Africa because he focuses on critical issues, deals with truth, expresses widely felt emotions and recites for the nation. Because of this, Mzwakhe Mbuli has been known as South Africa's "people's poet." The poetry of Mzwakhe Mbuli comforted and inspired a nation in crisis. Mzwakhe poetically eulogized heroes and martyrs, and he mourned with survivors during times when the people of South Africa faced great hardship and tremendous tragedies.

Mzwakhe's poetry was banned by the apartheid regime, and he was forced underground. He continued to perform his poetry at great risk and thus became a hero in the movement for justice.

It was a tribute to his contribution that Mzwakhe was asked to poetically introduce Nelson Mandela at his Inauguration. Uncompromising in refusal to censor himself, Mzwakhe continued speaking out against corruption and injustice despite several attempts on his life. In 1996, someone fired nine bullets into his car while he was in it.

Speaking out cost him his freedom. After the first democratic elections in 1994, hard drugs poured into South Africa. Mzwakhe became involved in the anti-drug crusade and was given information about corrupt South African officials involved in drug and gun trafficking by police officials in Swaziland, who asked him to relay the information to Mandela. He never got that opportunity.

The 1996 attempt to assassinate Mzwakhe remained unsolved. In 1997, after Mzwakhe complained about police failing to bring charges against anyone, he was lured to Pretoria for information about the attempt on his life. When he got there, someone put a bag into his car. Immediately thereafter, Mzwakhe and his two companions were arrested for armed robbery of a bank and possession of weapons police alleged they found in the bag.

Prior to the trial, several thousand people visited Mzwakhe at the prison. The courtroom was also packed through all phases of the trial, which was surrounded by many bizarre events including the suicide of one of Mzwakhe's arresting officers during a summer session, a bomb scare, an outburst of righteous indignation by South Africa's most popular recording artist, Brenda Fassie, and a six-month postponement due to a World Cup soccer match.

Many luminaries expressed their concern, including former Parliamentarian Helen Suzman, who visited Mzwakhe at prison so often that Mzwakhe said she became like a second mother to him. Mrs. Suzman, who also served on the Human Rights Commission, said that his prison conditions were "appalling."

Winnie Madikizela-Mandela came to court in February and said that Mzwakhe was completely innocent and that he had visited her and told her he was under surveillance and feared for his life. She advised him to see the President. Mzwakhe was arrested two days after their meeting, while the President was out of the country.

At the trial, Winnie Madikizela-Mandela held a press conference and said the people involved in the conspiracy to frame Mzwakhe were not from the old regime, but "some of us," and that knowing that made her fear for the nation's future.

Despite lack of a criminal record and status as a national leader, Mzwakhe was denied bail, held for a year and a half before trial in conditions more befitting apartheid than a celebrated democracy that values human rights. He was held with notorious murderers from the apartheid era, in cells with sixty-four other inhabitants sharing one archaic toilet and four people assigned per mattress. In fact, when he was first arrested, he was put in a cell near the gallows in the Maximum Security area, with one of his cell mates the man who admitted killing Mzwakhe's close friend, Chris Hani. It is hard to believe that this placement was an accident. (Following conviction, he was again housed at Pretoria Maximum Security Prison, again near the gallows.)

Mzwakhe's mere presence at the prison known for decades as the dungeon of apartheid drew attention to horrible conditions there. During a heat wave, he reported a water crisis to the media, when prisoners were drinking water from fire hydrants. Prison doctors when interviewed reported health problems like scabies and confirmed Mzwakhe's reports of black prisoners routinely coming into the facility with bites from police dogs. Doctors were afraid to give their names to the press. One doctor resigned following the reports. Another newspaper published an expose on the prison when an arrested journalist spent a week there. Throughout, Amnesty International voiced general concerns about human rights regarding interaction of police and prison officials with South Africans, as well as specific concerns about things such as the dog bites from police dogs sustained by black prisoners, as Mzwakhe had reported.

All this attention was undoubtedly not appreciated at high levels of a new government preparing for an election. The same government which had long embraced Mzwakhe Mbuli began to thoroughly dissociate itself from him. People who knew Mzwakhe well for years in other situations and together with him had opposed the former government in favor of the ANC recently joined in the dissociation undertaken by the ANC government from him rather than taking a stand in opposition to a corrupt faction and in favor of justice.

During the trial, expert witness testimony was given that no fingerprints of any of the defendants were found near the scene of the crime or on weapons police alleged they found. A witness testified that the defendants were not present at the scene of the crime. Another witness for the prosecution finally admitted at the trial that she had seen a newspaper photograph of Mzwakhe Mbuli the morning of the day she made an identification of him in an identity parade. Police testimony revealed the identity parade, or line-up, at which Mzwakhe was identified was inherently flawed and violated numerous police regulations.

There were several Independent Complaints Directorate [ICD] investigations of police treatment of Mzwakhe Mbuli during this process. The first was related to reports of police paying people to say that he was present at the scene of the crime, and showing people photographs of him prior to the identity parade.

The second ICD complaint related to three officers attacking Mzwakhe after he complained about handcuffs being too tight. He sustained various injuries and required medical attention. Throughout, there has seemed to be an attitude of "no mercy" among authorities, which has been disturbing.

Giving the ANC government the benefit of doubt, one could say it tried too hard not to show favoritism. It is difficult to give a government benefit of doubt which has behaved this way, however, because the treatment of Mzwakhe Mbuli has gone far beyond not showing favoritism and has been in the realm of cruel and unusual punishment. Even the best of governments develop pockets of corruption. The ANC government is new and obviously anxious about its public image and in this case has gone to extreme lengths to protect it.

At the conclusion of his bizarre trial, Mzwakhe Mbuli, with no criminal record but instead a record of distinguished service to the nation, was convicted and sentenced to thirteen years in prison.

South Africa has been experiencing a heavy crime wave, and the citizenry have been in an uproar, and the government eager to be seen as strong on law and order and tough on crime and criminals. The magistrate said he wanted to "make an example" of Mzwakhe and seemed to be punishing him more due to his popularity and his role in the struggle. The example which was made however is yet another example that justice is still not available for all in the new South Africa.

Public feeling has been strongly against crime, of course. It has been extremely distressing however how quickly some people have assumed Mzwakhe Mbuli was guilty and have acted as though the greatest danger is giving him "special treatment" because he has been a freedom fighter and a celebrity. The even greater danger -- of convicting an innocent person -- has seemed to be lost amid the demands for "no favoritism" and "no mercy."

The reality is that there is much more left of apartheid justice than the African National Congress or anyone else bargained for, and what Mzwakhe Mbuli has received is simply that: apartheid "justice." The net effect is that he has been treated more, not less, harshly because he has been a celebrity and known as a freedom fighter in the movement for justice.

Following sentencing, Mzwakhe pointed out he remained innocent, and that he still enjoyed the support of the people, as his new album was selling at the rate of five thousand copies a day. He said he had divine protection, that his God was above conspiracies, and he was cushioned by God's love for him.

Shortly thereafter, he was transferred to Pretoria Maximum Security Prison, assigned to a hard labor division and severely and abnormally restricted in contact and communication. He remained there for six months until he was transferred to Leeuwkop Maximum Security Prison.

It may seem extraordinary that all this would be done to silence a poet, but Mzwakhe Mbuli is no ordinary poet.

Many South Africans memorize and perform Mzwakhe's poetry, which keeps his words alive everywhere. Mzwakhe's poetry is prophetic in nature because it deals with the future, as well as the present and the past.

The performance poetry of Mzwakhe Mbuli honors another oral tradition, the amaZulu tradition of singing to ease the hearts of grieving people, which has played a culturally based healing role in South Africa in times of tragedy.

"A very anguished nation took great healing from the things he said," said Mzwakhe's friend Mark Loeb. "His poetry was spot on, and people loved him."

The poet continued speaking out against corruption following the elections, as well as becoming involved with issues like AIDS, and spoke out about political violence, sexism and the growing drug trade.

"This makes him dangerous to any government," Loeb said. "I don't think since the days of Shakespeare there's ever been a walking, talking poet of the people."

To provide more insight into the impact on South Africans of Mzwakhe Mbuli as the people's poet, included here is an excerpt from Voicing the Text: South African Oral Poetry and Performance, written by Professor Duncan Brown of the University of Natal at Durban, and published by Oxford University Press, Cape Town, 1998.

On 1 April 1990, Mzwakhe Mbuli drove to the KwaThema Stadium to perform his poems at a rally marking the third anniversary of the South African Youth Congress [SAYCO]. On arrival, he was mobbed by fans who, in their enthusiasm, removed his trousers and shoes, leaving him in his shirt and underwear. In spite of his lack of attire, Mzwakhe (as he is known) went on to perform for the assembled crowd.

This incident, recorded in Tribute (Makgabutlane 1990:20), is one of many testifying to the extraordinary reputation of the man who has been dubbed the "people's poet." Performing at political funerals and mass meetings, Mzwakhe captured the public imagination during the 1980s in a way that few poets in South African history have done, at times addressing audiences of up to 150,000 people. His success is remarkable testimony to the continuing power of oral forms, and their possibilities under oppressive social conditions.

The poet grew up in Emdeni South, and as a child traveled around at weekends with his father, an mbube (traditional harmonic) singer. At hostel gatherings, he heard praise poets performing for visiting chiefs, and experienced various forms of dance and singing. During the 1970s, while at school, he was involved in musical and dramatic groups which under the aegis of black consciousness sought to advance black creativity.

In 1981, he attended a vigil in Soweto for the death of Father Castro Mayathula, a priest held in high esteem by the community. Spurred on by the spirit of the occasion, he performed for the first time two poems he had composed, "Sies" and "Ignorant," accompanied by humming of the crowd. The performance was so successful that he was called upon to repeat the poems the following day during the funeral service at Regina Mundi Church.

From that point onward, Mzwakhe's performances (which are mostly in English, although he does use African languages, including Zulu) were to punctuate many political meetings in the Reef townships.

Among other occasions, he was asked to perform at the Johannesburg launch of the Congress of South African Trade Unions [COSATU] in 1985, at the celebration of Bishop Desmond Tutu's Nobel Peace Prize in 1987, and at most of the major political funerals in the years of the State of Emergency. His cassette, Change is Pain (1986), was banned.

He was detained eight times. He has survived several assassination attempts. While he was on the run from security police, his performances at political gatherings gained authority from the government attempts to silence him.

An anonymous journalist described Mzwakhe's performance at a 1987 celebration, in a Braamfontein church, of Tutu's Nobel Prize.

"The voice swelled to a thick, heavy resonance to fill the vault of the church, to beat against the walls and fall in dark waves over the congregation. This was how prophets are meant to sound. At the same time, Mzwakhe seemed to grow in stature. Gone was the gangling assortment of more or less unrelated limb and, in its place, something more than flesh, something which did all but glow in the dark."

As well as Change is Pain, Mzwakhe has produced seven other albums, including a new album (1999) as well as Unbroken Spirit (1989), Resistance is Defence (1992), Afrika (1993), Izigi (Footsteps) (1995), KwaZulu Natal (1996) and uMzwakhe Ubonga uJehova (1997). He has also published a book of poems, Before the Dawn (1989).

After the first democratic elections in South Africa in 1994, Mzwakhe Mbuli was given the honor of poetically introducing President Nelson Mandela at his Inauguration ceremonies, before a huge crowd in South Africa and for millions watching worldwide. He performed a praise poem he wrote for the President, Izigi (Footsteps).

Mzwakhe's new album, Mzwakhe Mbuli Greatest Hits: Born Free but Always in Chains, released by EMI/CCP in April 1999, includes four tracks recorded from Pretoria Central Prison as well as some of the best of the rest.

Please read and sign our online Petition of support for Mzwakhe Mbuli.