Imiyalelo, 2026
Screenprint, Edition 1 of 4
50 cm x 64,5 cm
Artist’s Statement
I never met my grandmother. She passed away on 24 October 2002, and I was born just a few weeks later, on 9 December. Though only a handful of days separate these two dates, they mark the beginning of a relationship that has shaped my entire understanding of identity, memory, and inheritance, despite never having physically existed. Growing up, I listened to stories about her until they felt less like narratives and more like my own memories. It often seemed as though she had already taken every step I would ever take, and that every life lesson I encountered had already been lived and narrated before me. Her absence never manifested as loss; instead, it became a connection that transcended time. In many ways, we occupied the same existence, separated only by generation.
As I grew older, family and community members began calling me by her name, remarking on our physical resemblance, our mannerisms, even the shape of our personalities. What seemed like a coincidence gradually deepened into something else. Their observations made me question where one life ends, and another begins. I came to understand identity as fluid and intergenerational, existing beyond the boundaries of a single body. Rather than seeing my grandmother’s death as an ending, I began to consider the possibility of continuation: that she had not disappeared but had returned in another form. This understanding became the foundation of Imiyalelo, a print whose title comes from the isiXhosa word for “instructions.” In Xhosa tradition, imiyalelo refers to the wisdom elders impart to younger generations in preparation for their passing, a way of preserving knowledge, values, and responsibilities across the span of time.
The print depicts my late grandmother and me seated together on a bench as the sun sets behind us. It visualises a memory that never physically occurred, yet one that feels emotionally real. I sit beside her, mirroring her gestures as a grandchild naturally would, and together we watch the dying light while she speaks to me about departure, inheritance, and continuity. She prepares me for a future without her, instructing me on the role I must assume for my mother as she mourns the loss of her pillar of strength. Through this imagined encounter, Imiyalelo explores how we inherit histories we never directly experienced. It reflects on ancestral presence, the transmission of knowledge, and the way identity is shaped by those who came before. In honouring my grandmother’s legacy, I seek to show how remembrance can create connections that outlast death, allowing the past to remain alive within the present.
