About Advertise

Another Tale Of Two Cities

by Montle Moorosi / Images by Paul Ward / 05.10.2011

When I was young my favourite story in the Bible was the story of the Prodigal Son. I loved how he told his dad fuck you and went out and saw the world, how he drank all the wine in Rome and fucked all the whores in Persia and then came back home to his pappy and they still threw him a come back party. I was going back home and I felt like the prodigal son, ready for a catharsis jammed inside a spit roast and a bottle of sparkling wine.

“What happens at a sneaker festival?” Nolan asks me in between sips of his Castle, his back slouched, eyes hazy and all over the Bob Rocks Interior, just generally having a good old dull time.
“I don’t know… I guess the shoes give speeches about youth culture, who the fuck knows.” I’m drinking a Windhoek and lighting a cigarette with the last bit of a cigarette I just smoked.
“Talks on who has the most sole?”
“God knows, but I guess I’m going, Anthea really wants to go. I don’t.”
“How much is a ticket for that shit?”
“I think it’s R150.”
“To look at shoes we can’t afford?”
“Wank fest dude.”


Siobhan, my black 2009 Chevrolet Spark raced down Mandela bridge and took an abrupt turn into Marshall street, we’re late for STR CRD and Bhubesii wants me to DJ for him, we’ve worked on some songs together in the past, I also think he might have stolen part of my mic stand. I drive past a lot of dark ass niggers pushing trolleys full of scrap metal and all kinds of shit poor people lug around, armless dolls, soiled blankets, empty quart bottles, LA Gear takkies. Stop at a red robot. A white Toyota Cressida stops next to me and the guy in the passenger seat stares at me until the light turns green. The whole time I’m thinking, “shit, I could be in Cape Town right now eating breakfast specials and watching Jean Rene get his dick sucked by a homeless chick.”

We drive past the place where I kicked my ex-girlfriend out the car and she ended up getting punched by a drunken stranger who wanted to fuck her. She deserved it. She fucked some other guy the same night so big up all drunken curb crawling dudes out there holding me down. The shoddy pioneer 6×9 speakers are blasting Schlachthofbronx featuring Spoek Mathambo and Big Space, because nothing soothes the human mind better than some self-indulgence inside a small shitty Chinese made American car. But wanking is still a lot better.

We park the car near the spot where I punched Siobhan’s back window the night I kicked my ex-girlfriend out the car and drove back for her and dropped her off at Main Street life where she fucked some broke dude who works for Nike. Wank fest.


Get to the door; I’m not on the list as I was told. Send a black text message to Bhubesii. No reply. Get to the lady at the media desk. She looks through Roger’s 85 page guest list 3 times.
“You’re not here.”
I stand aside and assume the position. Pull out my phone and send an imaginary message to a very important imaginary person. She calls me over again in a few seconds.
“Write your name and surname here.” She hands me a VIP tag. A note to all plebs, anyone can get inside.

Whoa! Its like Bill Cosby had sex with Michael Jordan and Drake came out of Bill’s ass speaking Zulu and New York slang through a vocoder. I rush to the stage. Bhubesii isn’t here yet. We get on stage. It’s whatevs, I wanna watch a hobo suck a golf ball through a straw but I guess I’m forced to look at every single girl dressed like a Jamaican prostitute from the nineties with thick braids, luminous high waisted cut off shorts, platform shoes and absolutely no idea who Super Cat is.

“What the fuck is Afro-Futurism?”
“It’s when you wear a loin cloth with Nikes and a Casio G-Shock.”


In Cape Town everyone is a DJ. But in Johannesburg everyone is a rapper. 9 out of 10 guys in Joburg say they have a mixtape coming out, they all want some beats for free, they have 500 pairs of R1000 sneakers, but no car. And they all want to bum a cigarette. Almost everyone wore brand new sneakers, got a freshly cut high top fade dyed blonde at the top but they all forgot to stop at the Shell garage to buy cigarettes.

I felt like I was watching animals in a zoo, until I realized they were looking at me and my girlfriend, in our ratty old Vans, with such disdain that they must have felt like European tourists watching a white woman breast feeding a chimpanzee in public. It’s normal in Cape Town dawg.

I see my ex-girlfriend in the crowd, and I remember that wine doesn’t get better with time if it’s corked with a turd and left in the sun.
“Cape Town guys can’t make it in Johannesburg, the hustle is too hard for them and they like chilling and doing nothing at the beach.” Someone tells me.
Fuck yeah I thought to myself, you can keep your Tuscan architecture.

Throughout the whole night Roger Young keeps boasting about how much he’s earning working for the event and the number of hotel rooms he has to himself.
“Can you hook me and Anthea up with a room?” I ask him.
“Of course brah!” He didn’t get me a room, I wasn’t surprised.


I buy some 2Bop clothes, their stall reminds me of a Texies in Athlone at month end but with young white kids and their parents, film directors with their hot girlfriends, sweaty middleclass looking black skaters with red eyes and black girls with Mufasa crown weaves, instead of lazy snoek stricken coloureds wearing wrap around Oakleys. Jimmy Manyi would be proud!

I look at shoes. I stare at them, waiting for them like everyone else. Yet they don’t respond at all. I even try speak to them. “You want me to fuck you in the ass?” I say to a pair of Adidas. They say nothing back. I see some people I pissed off at Afrika Burns and I have a small, nice chat with Paul Ward and I realize I have joined a whole new strange stratosphere of social class that I can’t name, let alone understand.

“What the fuck is Theophilus London?”
“It’s a type of dictionary.”


I eat a beef and chicken burrito with Justin McGee and drink Russian Bear vodka out of a rapper’s handbag. I get so bored I even watch and enjoy a b-boy battle, Cape Town vs Johannesburg, of course Cape Town wins because coloured children are taught to spin on their heads as soon as they’re old enough to drink wine. Eric Macheru is obsessed with the term “yellow bones” he says it 4 times when he’s on stage.

God I’m bored. I start to think about cops force feeding me weed, being followed by security guards in the Gardens Center, car guards trying to suck my dick, 6 black guys in Roger Young’s house drinking quarts singing along to West Coast.

“I wish you were my boyfriend.”

Cathartic moments are terribly overrated, especially if they involve sneakers, ex-girlfriends and hobos. But I guess nobody knew the Prodigal Son was coming “home” and I guess I’ll just have to be happy with catharsis, which is really just a fancy word for being let down. Again.







*All images © Paul Ward.

28   9
  1. Dplanet says:

    “…with such disdain that they must have felt like European tourists watching a white woman breast feeding a chimpanzee in public.”

    Now that’s what I call writing.

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  2. Count Nero says:

    “but they all forgot to stop at the Shell garage to buy cigarettes.”

    The worst!

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 1

  3. Kiff says:

    I like it how the backgrounds are blurry its kiff

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  4. danni says:

    “What the fuck is Afro-Futurism?”
    “It’s when you wear a loin cloth with Nikes and a Casio G-Shock.”

    class act, montelle. class act!

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  5. bridget says:

    “I get so bored I even watch and enjoy a b-boy battle” bahaha

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  6. cherryfresh says:

    Funny, but far from Montle’s best

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  7. Anonymous says:

    I felt like a real square/dork there, but it was a cool event. Those people could outcool those trendy Hotbox kids in about a second.

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  8. Farts on Main says:

    Contemporary black existentialism, awesome stuff (Best Coast included)!

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  9. Roger Young says:

    Dammit Montle! I told you not to say anything about the money.

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  10. Bradley Abrahams says:

    well done my adopted child.

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  11. gunston says:

    paul ward hates to use a fixed 50mm

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  12. einstein adonis says:

    “…but I guess I’m forced to look at every single girl dressed like a Jamaican prostitute from the nineties with thick braids, luminous high waisted cut off shorts, platform shoes and absolutely no idea who Super Cat is.”


    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  13. Anonymous says:

    so many new shoes, so many cape town faces…Bhubesi’s haircut a class act, canon camera safari, fucking red lips. i also made it onto Roger Young’ guestlist…even though we may not know each other, big thank you from me and my other 3 friends. That person who’s name ends with London was boring

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  14. Anonymous says:

    hahaha, I love your writing. And thanks for exposing Joburg for the shithole that it is. Great pix too. Nice one

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  15. Makhosini says:

    What is this? No. Just. No. Trying too hard and failing just as impressively.
    No. Not a writer!

    Thumb up1   Thumb down 2

  16. @ anonymous says:

    Joburg a shithole? I don’t think one write up on one event warrants the “joburg is a shithole” opinion.

    your quick judgement stinks of a toilet though…

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  17. kaizer says:

    Nice one Montle. Very cinematic. You write very well and always looking forward to reading your stuff.

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  18. Anonymous says:

    Joburg is a foul, stench filled, rats arse of a city. It’s THE biggest shit hole I’ve ever experienced. Filled with uncultured twats who live for “bucks boet”. The roads are filled with shame. I feel sorry for anyone who lives there. Stay there though, because Cape Town doesn’t want your foul mouthed, poorly dressed people here.

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  19. @ anonymous says:

    stay in your finely woven garments and swim in your intellectual conversation swarms. We will be here making that buck and loving this ‘rat arse’ of a city which has proven time and time again to be A WHOLE LOT MORE representative of SA than your cape town…

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  20. Anonymous says:

    I fail to see what Joburg has going for it.

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  21. mantovani says:

    STR CRD is more interesting than the person you sent to write about it. Next time, please send somebody to actually cover it. This wannabe gonzo journalist’s self-indulgent meanderings belong in the student rag mag. I know he’s black and so edgy….and Mahala is desperate to be representative, but in fact his “I’m so bored” angle is pure white brat. As for his love of Cape Town – well,…..nuff said.

    Thumb up1   Thumb down 1

  22. Dewey says:

    It all comes down to branding in the end. Joburg is all gritty city “African New York” and Cape Town is all trendy and cosmopolitan. Either way, it seems to be a bit too exclusive to belong to either of these crowds for the regular Joe.

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  23. love for the 'rat arse city' says:

    Distinct difference: Joburg accepts all sorts, Cape town has a dress code.

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  24. Andy says:

    Mantovani go buy a new pair of sneakers and maybe you’ll feel better. And then click on this link for a substantive review of the actual event. Then, try, pack up your bitch.


    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  25. Anonymous says:

    mantovani…nail on the head.

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  26. Narique says:

    ““Write your name and surname here.” She hands me a VIP tag. A note to all plebs, anyone can get inside.”


    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  27. montle says:

    I’ve actually lived in jhb for lots of years and in cpt for many years
    And if you don’t get the best coast line about blacks and white culture then I’m assuming you’re just mad cause you were one of the guys dressed in loin cloths bumming smokes and talking about the “post modernity” of lil wayne. Fuck ariel pink and drake.

    ToleRence? Yeah fucking right. Thanks for the read and putting a buck in my pocket though. “Hosh”

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  28. Thato Motaung says:

    Dude!!!!!! This is fuckin brilliant writing and funny! Nt that u didn’t already know that!!! I fall in LOVE with Mahala mre and mre!!!

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  29. Thato Motaung says:

    hehehehehehehehehehe, I wanna post some memorable and impressive quotes bt truth is, I’d jst end up posting the whole article

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  30. raimondo says:


    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  31. Anonymous says:


    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  32. Thato says:

    LOL! Montle…no words!

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0

  33. Anonymous says:

    I think the standard of writing on Mahala is great, considering that they have writers like an ex-girlfried beating, drug taking, self hating BLACK who likes calling other black people kaffirs, mind you he’s black himself and is dating a white girl (no offense to Anthea, you’re a wonderful person). Montle is in a league of his own, he’s a good example of how colonisation and apartheid has conditioned privileged black people who live in Cape Town to think they’re separate from the mess that this country is in. Well done Montle. Nice one.

    Thumb up1   Thumb down 0

  34. Andy says:

    Wow Anonymous a lot to say… but why not use your name? Or you like shooting rubber bands from the dark?

    Thumb up2   Thumb down 0

  35. Thobeka says:

    Its concerning when black south african refer to each other as niggas

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 1

  36. Shona says:

    When I initially left a comment I appear to have clicked the -Notify
    me when new comments are added- checkbox and now each
    time a comment is added I receive four emails with
    the exact same comment. There has to be a means you are able to remove me from that service?
    Many thanks!
    Feel free to visit my web-site: empangeni accommodation

    Thumb up0   Thumb down 0