As we chatted about his expectations he repeatedly thanked and praised his creator for an opportunity to be part of the Amakhosi family. In him I saw a hunger for success, and a willingness to be better at the assignment heaped on him. His questions sought to prepare him for a contribution that would touch and influence a huge family whose ancestral origins were born from a dream of one Kaizer Chincha Guluva Motaung.

As we ventured deep into the discussion, his brow gathered moisture, an indication of some nervousness that had begun to creep. At this juncture, all he spoke about was the love for Gods’ people, the opportunity presented to him and how he would turn such an opportunity to progress and success. The stage was now set and all he needed was some prayer, patience and support from those that needed to work close to him.

The deeper the discussion, the more it cleared that the moist brow was essentially not an expression of nervousness, but it was that of an excited individual whose season had dawned. Here was a young man oozing with energy and innovation that only we that worked close to him could see, touch and feel. We could see it as he turned large crowds into an orchestra of fun. We could touch it as he went around the stadium arena prancing, sprinting, gyrating, dancing and doing everything possible to comfort those in attendance. Often we were called to control this energy when the microphone, the speakers and the crowds demanded the best from him. We could feel his energy and its decline every time the results of the match negated his intent and purpose to give hoards of supporters a memorable match day whenever the Amkhosi was on stage.

The microphone, the DJ of the day, the powerful gold and black, and the bottled water were his weapons. The only script he read was from the team lists and nothing more. The rest was his anointing, unrehearsed, unstructured, but talent that never failed nor disappeared every time it was exorcized from the deep bellies of his being.

Jeff “Voice” Mnguni was not only a colleague, but a brother and a friend who came into our Amkhosi lives with something that only him and his creator knew. The power of influencing multitudes of crowds that turned to chant Amakhosi 4 Life was his trademark contribution to the family. At his vintage best, Jeff effortlessly turned crowds to wave, to sing and to blow their vuvuzelas as the Amakhosi arena became a cacophony of excitement.

Today the Voice is no more. His life cut short during a moment of lunacy that typifies our township lives. We are supposed to be angry, but this would only feed the appetite of a destructive devil whose agenda has nothing to do with order. We are suppose to seek vengeance against the murderous hand that denied us more of Jeff’s talent, but our acts would nullify the promise of God’s judgment when He calls us to account for our brothers. At some stage, the perpetrator would stand before the Almighty to answer one frightening question; Where is My Jeff Mnguni?

As for us at Amakhosi we would miss the energy and an anointing that played during the many soccer events and our road shows. Whilst we would miss his voice, I ponder the feelings of those that shared his life after the prestige of a soccer match. I ponder the feelings of a mother who was blessed to raise such talent. I ponder the feelings of those that Jeff had begun to reach through his tireless involvement in the community.

Just like when Jeff had moments to thank the LORD for the Amakhosi opportunity, may I challenge all to thank Him for the life that Jeff shared with us. God’s will has prevailed. Jeff will rest but the Voice we knew would remain engraved in our hearts.

Lala Ngo Xolo Magubela Tshelekaya.

Thebe Mohatle and all the crew at J.A.K.E. Productions