The moment is sincere. In a sense the pendant against her chest gives off a glow. There is an intimation of a worship both wordless and private. Her fingers seem to hover on the keys, patient with song and elegy. We know not to disturb her, to watch her in a hush, and can only hope to imitate her serenity.

— Emmanuel Iduma

This was a photograph from my 2019 photobook, "Music from my Good Eye," and was taken in the Anglican Cathedral of the Holy Cross in Gaborone, Botswana. This body of work was inspired by my grandfather, Hippolytus Mothopeng, who was a jazz musician performing in the 1960s and 1970s in Botswana after going into exile to escape apartheid South Africa, in 1958. Significantly, by the time I was born in 1996, my grandfather had gone blind, and he never physically saw me, but we shared a strong bond until he passed away in 2012. One of my grandfather's dying wishes was for one of his offspring to become a musician, which unfortunately never came to fruition. However, in my practice, I aimed to create a visual album in the form of a photobook for my grandfather and my maternal family. 

My thought process during the production of this project was creating vignettes based on my memories of my family's past or those of my family members. The subject of this particular photograph is my mother, Pinkie, my grandfather's firstborn child and only daughter. I wanted to create a portrait that spoke of the close connection we dually shared with her father and my grandfather despite his inability to see us physically. As well, I wanted to fulfil the wish he had for one of us to play music. I took this photo inside the Anglican Cathedral church my family has attended since I was a child and where my grandfather was a part of the church choir. 

As an aside, I asked my mother about this photo recently, and she said that it evokes thoughts of how she'll sometimes walk in darkness early in the morning when she has to wake up early for work, especially in the winter. She walks in darkness on purpose to experience what it must've been like for her father to walk in darkness for 15 years of his life. 

I see photography as a means to an end. I use it as a tool to express myself and to show certain narratives. I try to experiment as much as I can to keep things refreshing for myself.

Photography has the power to expose underappreciated narratives and to uncover lost ones in a positive way. But, equally, it can be used for nefarious means like propaganda and exploitation. It's a double-edged sword that anyone who considers themselves a photographer must continually engage with when they press a shutter button.

— Thero Makepe

Born and raised in Gaborone, Botswana, Thero Makepe is an artist and photohrapher who works between Cape Town, Johannesburg, and Gaborone. His work is informed by past and present narratives about my upbringing and lived experiences in Botswana and South Africa. He is also a founding member of the Botswana Pavilion, a collective of young artists from Botswana concerned with advancing Botswana’s creative development and artistic archive. See more of his work on his website, and on Instagram.