Online Reporter
Bruce Ndlovu
Society Reporter
SANDRA NDEBELE is someone people look up to for leadership.
In December 2023, she was elected councillor for Ward 20 in Bulawayo, fulfilling her ambition to become one of the city’s policymakers.
Ndebele, a mother and a wife, thus became one of the women and men who hold the fate of over 600 000 Bulawayo residents in their hands. If the streets are not clean or if refuse is not collected, they are the ones who need to explain this to ratepayers, who expect good services.
If, God forbid, the sun does not rise tomorrow morning, they might get knocks on their doors from neighbours perplexed at why they have plunged into perpetual darkness.
However, Ndebele is more than just a councillor, as prestigious as that title might be.
For many young artistes, Ndebele has been more than an inspiration; she has been a lifeline. She has opened doors that once seemed shut, offering opportunities, mentorship and in some cases, financial assistance.
When the burdens of fame become too heavy a cross to carry, she has offered more than advice, providing time, presence and a shoulder to lean on.
While she is revered in the industry today, Ndebele was not always held in such high regard. Her rise to the top was anything but easy.
Once upon a time, when she descended like a whirlwind on the local music scene, gyrating her way to instant fame, she was seen as the devil incarnate by her harshest critics.
A young Ndebele’s outfits were considered too revealing and her dance moves too lewd.
“During my first years as a musician, I was the victim of a lot of stereotyping,” Ndebele said during the annual Media Indaba hosted by the Ministry of Information, Publicity and Broadcasting Services on the sidelines of the Zimbabwe International Trade Fair in Bulawayo last week.
“People looked down on female musicians, so there were a lot of things said. They did not like the way I dressed and people would say I was half-naked. When I gyrated on stage, I would be subject to many comments, with some people saying that what I was doing was wrong.”
Despite the snide comments she had been subjected to over the years, Ndebele, a product of Inkululeko Yabatsha School of Arts (Iyasa), said she has no regrets about those early years.
During that time, some praised her as an entertainer, while others denigrated her for, in their view, cheapening Zimbabwe’s moral fabric.
“If you ask me today, I will still tell you the same thing that I told you back then: I felt that was my culture and I still maintain that it is my culture. I will not shy away from something that I have always felt was right. I did it because I believed in it.
“I am thankful for the Government because even when I was being attacked, I was protected, and that is why 20 years later, I am still singing, dancing and performing,” she said.
Ndebele noted that while she has developed a thick skin over the years, she believes the harsh treatment she endured may have discouraged many aspiring female performers from ever stepping onto the stage.
“I know younger people emerging from different places who are afraid. They are afraid to say, ‘I want to dance like Sisi Sandra Ndebele danced.’ They are afraid of being half-naked on stage. Yet our culture embraces that kind of dance and those kinds of outfits,” she explained.
While female artistes from the United States and Europe are often celebrated for bold performances and daring outfits, Ndebele felt that, at home, there was far less tolerance for what many deemed “raunchy” behaviour, especially when it came from one of their own.
“Imagine if Beyoncé came to Zimbabwe and filled up a stadium. No one would have a problem with her dance moves or outfits. But if Sandra does the very same thing, people call her all sorts of names,” he said.
This is a double standard she knows all too well, one she believes has silenced many talented young women before they even stepped on stage.
“Maybe if there were policies that truly protect female musicians, people would stop judging them based on how they dress or walk and start appreciating them for their talent alone,” she said.
Ndebele said despite what she felt was harsh criticism during the genesis of her career, she has grown to embrace the negative perspectives about her.
“I remember in 2003 when I launched my first album, ‘Mama Mama’. Back then, there were not many female musicians in the industry. It was, and still is, a male-dominated space. Our culture has a big influence on how your career unfolds,” she said.
“I was called names. I was judged harshly. In those early years, when the criticism poured in, I used to feel really bad. But with time, I came to understand something important: no publicity is bad publicity. Every bit of attention, good or bad, plays a part in shaping who you become.”
While she might have persevered through the ups and downs, Ndebele said she felt that other female performers, who might not be as resilient as she was, could benefit from protection by policymakers.
“At times, the industry is not as friendly as some might think, especially for female musicians. That is why I encourage the Government to implement some of the policies that it comes up with,” she said.
“If this is done, I think that our industry would be bigger and better, and we would see a lot of Sandra Ndebeles. Due to the lack of financial support, there are very few of us making it.
“I believe that I made it because I am a very self-driven individual. I can do anything that I put my mind on. One person once told me that if my talent does not reward me, my hard work will, and I believe that my talent and hard work have paid off for me over the years. I am a landlord today because of this industry. So, if I did it, there is a young girl out there who can do it as well.”
Tinaye Agere