How the forgotten rockstar created the soundtrack of my generation
In the midlands of Kwazulu Natal, a few kilometres north of the small town of New Hanover is the farm where I grew up. The farm is nestled in a beautiful valley where my father grew potatoes and cabbages and other vegetables including Madumbis (read about them here). The farm house was located on the one slope of the valley. It was a dusty house with wooden floors, red bricks and a green tin roof. Outside my window grew a glorious old wild fig tree. It was more on the side of being a hovel than a mansion.
Read the full article on Pulse here.