WHAT IS A dog? This glorious furry creature who sits within finger tip reach of you, who responds emotionally to your every gesture, but understands no peripheral context beyond his love and loyalty to you. He has ears that reflect his engagement with the world and a smile that extends beyond his heart, down his spine and into his tail. Which wags. It is in Isitha Sabantu, an overwhelming victory of a work by Empatheatre, that you will encounter Banonya, a big dog, made of a complicated mechanism of bits and pieces. He is helpless in the face of very bad people, and his only tool of defence is his bark. Operated with compassion and an understanding of tiny doggy idiosyncrasies by Sboniso Mbhele and Siyabonga Majozi, this astonishing empathetic creature holds the core of the work, which is about life and incompatible horrors. This unforgettable work is onstage at the Mannie Manim Theatre in the Market Theatre until 22 March.
And as you walk into the space, exposed as you are, to a drone’s eye view of a village, something extraordinary happens in your soul. Playing astutely with scale, akin, in a sense, to Lara Foot’s The Life and Times of Michael K, the production team take the somewhat small space of the Mannie Manim and render it vast in its sense of landscape, and overwhelming in its sense of horror. It’s an extraordinary work which shifts the boundaries and the bars of what can be done with theatre, armed with many crude objects, such as old pantyhose and mismatched chairs, but above all, soul and an eye for the what ifs in the world.
So, what if a hole in a table could indicate the terror of land mass being moved? What if a beautiful choir’s voice in cohesion could articulate the threat of drilling? What if simple chairs lifted and moved across the stage could create a sense of havoc that makes you want to hide? What if that fourth wall could be broken in a way which makes the audience not feel afraid, but rather complicit in the wisdom of the tale? What if there is a musician onstage whose music talks to the performers, rather than a whole orchestra in an electronic sound track? What if the story were told in isiZulu, but is magicked to be understandable in English?
Every one of these issues is not only engaged with, but celebrated. You learn the relationships between the characters. The priest, the unborn baby, the sacrificial goat, the old auntie. Even if you do not speak isiZulu, the text is written in such a way that you understand it. English and isiZulu are interwoven with a wisdom of language in general. There are no wooden translations here. No need for surtitles, just an overwhelming sense of storymaking.
The choreography, choir work, performance and integration with puppets that will make your heart want to burst with emotion, is impeccable in this work. The story being told, we know. It’s been told a lot in a myriad of contexts: Big consortium comes along to destroy and desecrate the place of life, love and burial of small unmoneyed people, whose voice is a plea, but is shut down in the face of money. Basic bullying 101. And it is here where we meet Nomsa (Mpume Mthombeni). She is the unequivocal matriarch of the terrain. The mummy to Banonya and the benchmark for all that happens in the village.
But in terms of the power she wields both as a character and a performer, this is God in a pair of 1950s-evocative horn-rimmed specs and a dress appropriate to a middle aged woman. Without platitudes or exaggeration, Nomsa carries the world on her head and can invoke humility or catastrophe with her loins and heart. She is an astonishing performer, beautifully cast. She articulates this role and the earth mother which stands behind it, in magnificent, terrifying yet homely detail. If you loved her in Isidlamlilo, you will wish to her kiss her court shoes at the end of this performance.
It is not only Mthombeni, however, that holds you tight through the work’s duration. It is also here where you get to meet Mpendulo (Tony Miyambo), the nephew of Nomsa. He’s caught between values in a way that has no easy solution. The child of opportunity, he’s been diddled and confuses by the Powers That Be, bringing him back to his roots, guised as a man with monied platitudes in his mouth, and westernised rational in his thinking.
The cast is, to an individual, perfect, in its representation of the whole. In terms of an understanding of the cohesion of people, an ensemble of just 13 performers is capable here of being an angry crowd of thousands, a classroom of many. The voices alone will give you goosebumps. Isitha Sabantu is above all, a swirling seething mass of an ensemble piece, where choir work and dance, slow motion and the land, work in the kind of tandem that make you understand the horror and the beauty of live work. Yes, it is a long show – clocking in at just on three hours with a 15 minute interval, and yes, it probably could have been cut. But the reality is, there is not a moment in this work when you begin to wane.
Even if you never see theatre and if you have never visited the Market Theatre, Isitha Sabantu should be mandatory in your calendar. Miss this brief season of an absolutely beautiful experience, at your own risk.
Isitha Sabantu is directed by Neil Coppen and produced by Empatheatre with support from Ibsen Scope and Home in Crisis. It features creative input by Nhlanhla Mahlangu (music and choreography), Craig Leo and Dylan McGarry (set and costumes), Craig Leo, Dylan McGarry and Ukwanda Puppets (puppetry), Tine Le Roux (lighting) and it is stage-managed by Ali Madiga. Written by Neil Coppen, Dylan McGarry, Tony Miyambo and Mpume Mthombeni, it is performed by Zesuliwe Hadebe, Billy Langa, Siyabonga Majozi, Sboniso Mbhele, Tony Miyambo, Mpume Mthombeni, Siphiwe ‘Sip’ Nkabinde, Wandile Nodliwa, Sabelo Sekgoto, Minenhle Sikhosana, Siphelele Thunga, Nokubonga Zikhali and Thulani Zwane, and performs at the Mannie Manim Theatre, Market Theatre complex in Newtown Johannesburg, until 22 March 2026.