Nobukho Nqaba: Umaskhenkethe
July 18th, 2023
By Liv Collins
In a country where photography is not always accepted as an art form, Nobukho Nqaba is challenging the status quo. Her bold and clever photographs spotlight themes of migration and invisible labour, revealing the talents of a young photographer and the power this medium has to inform and inspire.
Across 8,000 miles, from York to Cape Town, writer Liv Collins chats to the contemporary South African photographer; talking over email from Wintery South Africa, Nqaba shares her story of becoming a photographer against all odds, and how the everyday materials can be transformed through her – such as how plastic bags can become catalysts for change.
To <Nobukho Nqaba>
From <Liv Collins>
Hello Nobukho!
I’m thinking to start could you introduce yourself to the reader? And tell us how you’re doing this Monday morning.
To <Liv Collins>
From <Nobukho Nqaba>
My name is Nobukho Nqaba. I am an artist based in Cape Town, South Africa. I was born in eGcuwa (Butterworth) in the Eastern Cape province, which is a rural area, and my home language is IsiXhosa. I lived in the eGcuwa from birth until the age of 6, thereafter, I moved to Grabouw, an apple farming community about 75km outside of Cape Town in the Western Cape.
I stayed with my mother until the age of 10, and then I moved to Khayelitsha, which is a township in Cape Town. While in Khayelitsha, I developed an interest in the arts, and I had a teacher who encouraged me to pursue a career in the arts. I knew from Grade 10, that I was going to do something in the arts, and when I was in my Matric year (grade 12 or final year of high school), I applied for a Fine Art Degree at the Michaelis School of Fine Art, and I was there from 2009-2012.
I am a qualified teacher and librarian as well, having done a Post Graduate Certificate in Education, specialising in Art and Design, and a Post Graduate Diploma in Library and Information Studies at the University of Cape Town.
My work explores the precariousness of home and opportunity. Using checkered plastic bags (commonly known as China bags) plain grey blankets, and worn overalls, I point to the fragility and impermanence of home. My work also reflects on my personal memories of growing up in an informal settlement in Grabouw, Cape Town, and the complexities of migration and labour.
I am also very passionate about art education and have worked in the education sector for a number of years. I have taught Visual Art and Digital Photography at the Peter Clarke Art Centre in Newlands, Cape Town (2014-2019), and was a Photography Lecturer at the Red & Yellow Creative School of Business in Cape Town (2019-2021). I am currently an MFA candidate at the Michaelis School of Fine Art and work as Curator and Education Coordinator at the Irma Stern Museum in Cape Town.
It is currently winter in South Africa, and Cape Town is freezing at the moment. So, I am all layered with warm clothes this Monday morning. I am also coming back from leave, so catching up with emails with the heater on and loads of tea to keep me warm.
To <Nobukho Nqaba>
From <Liv Collins>
I’m glad you’ve got lots of tea and warm layers to help keep out the cold!
I am really struck by your series involving checked plastic bags. What initially drew you to work with this material?
To <Liv Collins>
From <Nobukho Nqaba>
I grew up surrounded by Umaskhenkethe or Unomgcana (some of the names of the bag in IsiXhosa). When I visited my mother over the school holidays in Grabouw, my father would pack my belongings in this bag. I used to travel by bus to Cape Town, accompanied by an elder from the village or a relative (because I was too young to travel on my own). The bus would stop at the Langa bus terminus (Langa is a township in Cape Town), where my mother would be waiting to fetch me and make our way to Grabouw (the apple farming area where she lived). At the Lnaga bus station, there would be many of these checkered bags in red, blue, and black. The only thing that separated them was the writing of its owner in Black Koki.
Apart from my travels, this bag was always there and used every day by people in my village and in Grabouw, always used to carry something to a place and back, including personal belongings. It is cheap or affordable, and mostly used by the working class.
For a while, I did not pay attention to the names and uses of Unomgcana, until my first year at the Michaelis School of Fine Art. I kept on seeing the bag, mostly used by fellow Africana from other countries. There is a market in Cape Town CBD, it is called "The Grand Parade", and this is where most people who are not from South Africa have their stands, selling things ranging from clothes, and food, and also others have hair salons. I kept being extremely bothered and interested at the sight of this bag and when at the market I asked myself what it is that makes me feel unsettled. I had conversations with the people at the market and asked them what they think of the bag, and most of them told me that the bag is a reminder of home, that it is a symbol of migration, and shared their movement stories with me.
It is from these conversations that I also remembered that this bag has also played a very important role in my background, as far as my movement within south africa, from rural areas to the farms and eventually the city.
The names of these bags reveal some kind of alienation and othering of their carriers. They always locate someone within a geographical area or remind someone that their existence in space is impermanent. For example, Umkaskhenkethe means let’s travel, Umasgoduke means let's go home, Khumbulekhaya means Remember home, Mashangaan bag means the bag of the Shangaan, Zimbabwe bag means the bag of Zimbabweans. These are some of the names of these bags in South Africa (among many others). Upon further research, I found that the bags are known as Ghana must-go-home bags in Nigeria, Turkish bag in Germany, Mexican bag in the US and Guyanese Samsonite in the Caribbean, etc. .
From then on, I decided to make the Umaskhenkhethe likhaya lam project, which means "the China bag is my home". This project starts off with my personal stories of growing up using the bag and then goes to a broad global issue of migration and how this bag is a global symbol of migration. How it creates anxiety, not only for its carrier but for those who are not familiar with strangers coming to "their" countries.
To <Nobukho Nqaba>
From <Liv Collins>
It’s so fascinating that you used a material that you associate with migration & impermanence – to construct photographs that focus on a sense of home.
How did it feel to cover walls, beds, books, and more with these bags?
To <Liv Collins>
From <Nobukho Nqaba>
I used photography because it is a medium that I discovered at University and I fell in love with it. My family does not have photographs of us when we were children, there are no family albums. I wanted to make sure that I use photography to, in a way compensate for the fact that I do not have a repository of my childhood, and I wanted to tell more about myself and others, so photography became an obvious choice.
The china bag is everywhere, and for me, it is overwhelming sometimes because it brings up many memories. The stories of its carriers are also often sad, and often governments and people do not recognize nor see immigrants. I wanted to do something that will convey all of that, and make the marginalized visible, hence covering objects with the china bag. I wanted to create a sense of discomfort, hoping that when people see the work, they will start having conversations about migration, and also for them to realize that people do not just move from one place/country to another willy-nilly. There are issues that make them flee, and they deserve to be treated with dignity in the spaces that they move to. Covering the objects is a huge task, which I do with the help of other people. One cannot get a large sheet of china bag material; therefore I have to buy the actual bags, cut them up, and lay them flat on the floor. Then I will start covering.
To <Nobukho Nqaba>
From <Liv Collins>
To me, this is why your work is so important. It not only documents your specific personal experiences, but it gives a voice to millions of people who are affected by migration, all around the world.
What has been your experience of becoming a contemporary photographer in South Africa?
To <Liv Collins>
From <Nobukho Nqaba>
Firstly, a lot of people don’t see photography as an art. As a teacher and when I was doing my undergrad, I’ve heard sayings from fellow mates who would ignorantly say, but you just do photography. It’s not a big deal or its easy. People think that photographers just take snapshots. It’s sad. Even documentary photographers are enlightening people on societal issues that they would often note of. Photography is more than that, and I think in my work I’m trying to show that. Photographers are capturing moments that spark conversation and issues that matter.
As a visual artist who works photographically most of the time, I know that some people in the art world have not been taking me seriously as an artist. I’m hoping for that day when they will actually look at photography with a wide lens. Photographers are not just shutter pressers. They tell stories. Real and imagined (based on lived experiences or constructed from memory).
I personally think South Africa is not focusing that much on photography,there is a lot of contemporary photographers and most of them are independent artists, however, one hardly sees their work shown in galleries. There are very few galleries that even showcase photographic work. Although there are some exciting spaces that encourage and strongly support photography work, for example, the Muholi Art Institute in Cape Town, The Market Photo Workshop in Johannesburg, and Inkcubeko ne Zobugcisa (NPO) in Cape Town.
To <Nobukho Nqaba>
From <Liv Collins>
It must be challenging to work within an environment in which photography is not always understood, supported, or respected as an important art form in itself.
What inspires you to keep going? To keep creating art?
To <Liv Collins>
From <Nobukho Nqaba>
What keeps me going is that I love what I do, and I believe that there’s more stories that can be told. I’ve always been a champion for the marginalised and unseen, which comes across a lot in my work.
I also believe in the power of photography to educate and inform, and even if there are challenges, I think those who get it, really do get it, and sometimes one doesn’t need many but just a few, who will inform others.
About Nobukho Nqaba
Nobukho Nqaba was born in Butterworth located in the Eastern Cape, South Africa. She is a graduate of the Michaelis School of Fine Art, University of Cape Town (UCT) where she majored in photography (2012). In 2012, she was awarded the Tierney Fellowship and was the recipient of reGeneration3, a photography focused initiative by the Musee de l’Elysee.
Nqaba holds a Postgraduate Certificate in Education, Visual Art UCT (2013) and a Post Graduate Diploma in Library & Information Studies (2019). She has embarked on several teaching endeavours through her role as Visual Art and Digital Photography Educator at the Peter Clarke Art Centre and a Photography Lecturer at the Red & Yellow Creative School of Business in Cape Town.
Nqaba is currently an MFA candidate at the Michaelis School of Fine Art and works as Curator and Education Coordinator at the Irma Stern Museum in Cape Town. Nqaba’s work explores the precariousness of home and opportunity. Using checkered plastic bags commonly known as China bags, plain grey blankets, and worn overalls, she points to the fragility and impermanence of home. Nqaba’s work reflects on personal memories of growing up in an informal settlement in Grabouw, Cape Town and the complexities of migration and labour