Programme Director;
The Mbuli family;
Comrades and friends;
Ladies and gentlemen.
Seldom has the passing away of one South African brought the whole nation together in congratulating him for what he has achieved and wishing him well in his eternal rest. I join the chorus of people who are bidding farewell to Vuyo. I do so both in my capacity as a government Minister but also on behalf of my family and as a distant relative to the Mbulis with whom we share the clan name of Mthimkhulu! Bhungane! Makhulukhulu! Ngelengele!
It will be remembered that when Vuyo broke into the broadcasting world in 1993, the negotiations process was still to be concluded and South Africans were on tenterhooks about the final outcome. There was a tunnel, but it was Vuyo’s bursting into the scene of broadcasting that the light was shone at the end of that tunnel. Indeed, when our people attained their freedom in 1994, Vuyo had shown a year earlier that what had been deemed impossible for 300 odd years, that a co-existence between the races, was possible.
It is a fitting tribute that the Gauteng Provincial Government has declared Vuyo Mbuli’s funeral a provincial official funeral, the highest category of a funeral that a provincial government can approve. I am sure that the Provincial Government is aware that they are bestowing the honour on behalf of the nation because Vuyo’s reach went beyond the borders of Gauteng.
The listenership of SAFM and viewership of Morning Live has grown by leaps and bounds. This has been assisted by the willingness of the station to transition to new platforms of communications such as social networks. Not only was Vuyo using these networks as a tool of his trade, but he had become part and parcel of them with him having his own handle and about 56 000 followers.
In an evening show two days ago, a colleague of his and a radio personality on Umhlobo Wenene, vividly remembered Vuyo inviting him to his Port Alfred home for a family function. He was impressed with the manner in which Mr Mbuli gave him respect and his ear, often wanting to know how he was enjoying himself. Another observer of Vuyo’s visits to his Port Alfred home, Bev Young, writes that once Vuyo was there, he switched off from the daily routine of newspapers and news, and would earn his well-earned rest in solitude but in the good company of his family and friends. Fond of his coffee, he would, during the day, collect wood for the evening braai, watch “soapies” or cartoons with their kids.
Vuyo’s sad and sudden departure will, ironically promote the health consciousness of the nation beyond the internment of his mortal remains. His passing on was tragic, but it has opened the eyes of many to a condition least talked about in informal and non-medical circles: pulmonary embolism. The awareness that now needs to be created around this condition will be the best tribute that can be paid to Vuyo, and I am sure, my colleagues in both public and private health sectors, will develop appropriate educational measures to create awareness around the predatory nature of this condition.
Athletics and sports in general were his passion. Although Vuyo was a keen jogger and participated in marathons and long distances, such as the Comrades Marathon, Two Oceans and the Soweto Marathon, he was an all-round sport fan. His untimely passing away at a rugby match in the Free State is testament to his multi-code appreciation and knowledge of sports. He supported our national teams in all codes, and his appreciation of good performances shone through on both radio and television.
In the event that a sports presenter was ill-disposed, Vuyo would swiftly fill in the slot, having been a Sport presenter himself while still at The Spare Channel in his early years of professional career. He was privileged to be the SABC Anchor at the Atlanta Georgia Olympic Games in 1996, a mere three years after breaking it into the broadcasting scene.
A keen motivator and motivational speaker, asking as he did for the fans to be eternally hopeful that the sports teams will one day do well and that losses were a learning curve towards better future performances, Vuyo provided a balm to heal the wounds of the nation that has had its fair losses in the field of play. By promoting sports and all national teams, he became a voluntary ambassador, and used sports as glue with which a previously fractured nation could be bound together.
He never forgot that he came from the townships, and would now and then regale his audience with the township lingo that became his signature trademark, Eita Da. But he did more than that: he dispelled the myth that from the townships only the mediocre get born. He made the townships proud, not because he introduced their languages and their lingos to the nation, but because he became a new role model for township youth. For these youth, the sky suddenly became the limit, and the boundaries that separate success and township life were immediately obliterated. Only a few people have the capacity to bring such hope to the hopeless, and Vuyo was one of the few.
In his studio, he made his guests relax and could solicit information without intimidating them. He might have held personal opinions on certain issues but he did not allow these to intervene in his interviewing skills. He maintained his professionalism through and through, controlling the emotions of the antagonists with ease, while allowing each adversary to put his or her point in a succinct and undisturbed manner. An interview with Mbuli was an involvement in a discourse rather than an inquisition. Under him, listeners could phone in with their own views and in a true Maoist fashion, a thousand schools of thought would contend. His interviewees thus felt at ease, and would articulate their own positions without fear or favour. This could only be done through his rigorous research of the topics that he was going to interview on. On all subjects of his interviews, he gave the impression that he knew a bit or two about them, even when they were on a more complicated platform. This is the mark of an excellent interviewer.
Vuyo Mbuli’s most memorable interview was with the first President of a free South Africa, President Nelson Mandela. This is not surprising because of the stature and world respect that President Mandela commanded, and still commands, as an icon of our struggle and the architect of our democracy. A number of interviewees have gone through the searching questions of Mr Mbuli, from kings to queens, from CEOs to scientists, from mine-owners to mine workers. He treated them all with equal respect, and for that he will be solely missed.
I think that budding artists also have a lot to thank Mr Mbuli for. He accommodated artists and other performers from all genres of music and made them part and parcel of Morning Live. A platform was thus created for them to display their skills and talents and they were able to do this to a bigger stage than they would have. Youth empowerment could not have been given such a boost as Mr Mbuli gave to the young artists.
I am sure I speak for many South Africans when I say weekday mornings in South Africa will never be the same again. I speak for people from Mkhambathini whom Vuyo recognized with famous words just before the news: “Libumbene elesikhombisa.” Or people from Mambozana whose old name would not have been known. I have a sense that Vuyo was shy and did not want to draw attention to himself. A few days before passing away, he had deliberately in my view, hidden his birthday. It was only a vigilant listener who congratulated him, and not only were the listeners profuse in their wishing him well, but they also learnt that Vuyo also shared a birthday with their daughter. Such was his sense of simplicity that he did not want to draw attention to himself, but to execute his job with the professionalism it requires. Such was his sense of privacy and protection of his children from the glare of public attention that he would have hidden both his own and their daughter’s birthday.
Equally important to him was his son. It was in front of his son that he collapsed. It was after he had watched his son play school rugby at this college that he drove to the Cheetahs game in Bloemfontein, always updating his followers on tweeter about the scores. I therefore agree that in spite of his heavy schedule, Vuyo, made time for his family. I do imagine the pain that has been suffered by the young man, but wish him and her sister fortitude and Godspeed to emulate, and even surpass, the contributions which their father made to the nation. This request may seem unfair to the children so young, but in the old Zulu proverb of encouraging maturity, Ubudoda Abukhulelwa.
Vuyo should also be commended for his resilience. As an avid listener of SAFM, I remember that when Mr Mbuli made his radio debut with Paddy O’ Brien in 1995, there were some callers who would call not to comment on the substance of the issue or the taste of his music, but to be so trivial as to complain about “pronunciation.” This did not deter Vuyo, and by the time he reached the end of his career, he was being commended for his ability to traverse a variety of languages.
As a salute to him, these concerns about “correct pronunciation” are a thing of the past as South Africans, in general, begin to accept that the consequence of our diversity is responsible for these differences in pronunciation. One particular word which irked Vuyo was “circumstances.” In order to avoid any criticism, he would pronounce it twice, first in the “township pronunciation” and then in its “perfect English” pronunciation. The detail may seem minute but it says a lot about his quest to satisfy the tastes of all his listeners.
Considering that the Morning Live show starts at 6 am, it is correct to assume that Vuyo had to be up by 4 a.m at least. In this would be included pre-programme reading of newspapers and general preparations. Not even once have I heard that the show did not start on time because Vuyo was late, or because of the most famous excuse: “I was delayed by traffic.” In fact, Vuyo knew that if he was late for a show, half of the nation would be late for school and work because he had become their clocks and alarms. This shows a discipline and work ethic any army would be proud of. As if this was not enough, he would leave the television studio and proceed to the SAFM radio station and in both instances he excelled.
We wish to thank the SABC for having provided Vuyo with the necessary tools of trade and resources so as to achieve his professional objectives. It would be Vuyo who would be the first to appreciate the new studio, the new set up, the latest props and gadgetry. But towards the end of his short life, it was his wardrobe that enthralled many viewers. Of course, some of us on the bad side of 50 may have viewed some of the wardrobe, such as red suspenders and pink bow ties, as a bit eccentric. But it was to the younger audience that he appealed. For that, Vuyo has been able to capture the imagination of the younger viewers. By this act alone, he has assured the station of a future audience.
I also wish to thank two people in particular for having assisted Vuyo to reach the height that he reached in the television world.
- Firstly, Tracy Going with whom he partnered for period of three years as co-anchors of Morning Live from 1 November 1999. It might have been a learning curve for both co-anchors to start a show coming from different expectations of their audience and coming from different cultural backgrounds. They took like duck to water and made the show as interesting as it was.
- Secondly, I would like to congratulate Leanne Manas. The nation shared your tears when you flew solo after the sudden passing away of Mr Mbuli. Naturally this emotional act of shedding tears for those close to you is understandable. In fact, if you had held your tears back, concerns about your being “unnatural” would have been raised. But you showed how the professionalism and mutual respect for each other had grown over the years. Those of us who follow your show with a level of semi- addiction were always aware that when one of you was away for an external assignment, the one remaining would feel the loneliness of the studio. The loneliness was so stark even to us your viewers.
Vuyo was not obsessed with reaping all the glory for himself, but diverted attention to other co-presenters and technical staff behind the show. Indeed as we remember Vuyo, we cannot forget that he was the one who introduced the “best cameraman in the country” and other technical staff – staff who would by the nature of their work, have been hidden and unknown to the public. I have no doubt that Vuyo created self-worth and confidence in them, and as the viewership was aware, they too grew in stature and confidence. All this is in no small measure, thanks to the late Mr Vuyo Mbuli.
As a department we have invited Mr Mbuli to be Master of Ceremonies in some of our own functions. On all occasions that he has been given this task, he executed it with ease. Exuding energy, he instilled life to occasions that would have otherwise been duller without his presence. He added his professional touch to the manner in which we, as a Department reached out to our audiences and stakeholders.
I congratulate the team that has worked with Vuyo on Moring Live. Even though it was difficult to hold back tears after hearing of Mr Mbuli’s death, they stuck to the dictum that governs their profession under such circumstances, and the dictum is “The Show Goes On.” One of his colleagues, Ashraf Garda has referred to Vuyo as the Lionel Messi or Christian Ronaldo of South African Broadcasting. I couldn’t agree more.
Finally, like every human being Vuyo had his own fair share of challenges. It is not the challenges that are of concern to me, but the manner in which he appeared on national television as if he had no worry, and no challenge in the world. In terms of those challenges which were worth taking responsibility for, Vuyo was the first to admit that everyone has to take responsibility for his actions. For his acknowledgement of his challenges, he is a person worth forgiving as he takes his eternal rest.
Hamba Kahle!
Bhungane!
Mthimkhulu!
Ndlebe zinhle zombini!
Mpundu zincane engathi zingangangiwa!
Mafuza afulele !
Njengefu lemvula!
If this was a farewell to an ordinary man I would have stopped, but it would be an insufficient farewell if I do not add: Mitiro Yabula bula (You work will follow you!)
Sharp! Sharp! Vuyo. Eita Da!
