Oi kentse roboto!
Lemating la Market Theatre, Newtown, Johazardousburg, South Ahhh jou leke ding! 2023.
Love & light,
Perfekto

if i look back, i am lost
Claire Keane
Keni
Sweet Seals For You, Always
One Nice Bug Per Day
Game of Thrones Daily
Acquired Stardust
AnasAbdin
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Monterey Bay Aquarium
occasionally subtle
No title available
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
tumblr dot com
Jules of Nature
NASA

No title available
sheepfilms
styofa doing anything
Stranger Things
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from China
seen from United States

seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from Ukraine

seen from Azerbaijan
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seen from Türkiye
@lebina
Oi kentse roboto!
Lemating la Market Theatre, Newtown, Johazardousburg, South Ahhh jou leke ding! 2023.
Love & light,
Perfekto
Durban North, KZN, South Africa. 2023.
Just leave your prints everywhere. Especially ones that rake up mementos in time.
Love and light,
Perfekto
Bloubergstrand, Western Cape, Mzansi, 2020.
Love and light,
Perfekto!
L’artiste remarquable
A time capsule of sorts, composed of textures, light crafting, and a lot of heart. Titled, The Remarkable Artists, is a visual celebration of thoughtful craftsmen and women that I’ve photographed, and whose influence in spaces known and unknown served as instrumental advocates for the voiceless. Whether it was raps on the stage, poetry in theatre, music at a rage or contemplation of editorials meant for the digital page - artists remain a voice and conduit to culture that defines every era.
This pressure, to carry entire generations plight, dreams and thoughts alike, I imagine to be a privilege. May artists continue the legacy of crafting culturally resonant truths, defining their times, and being a time stamp to the era they represent.
For where my words remain within the holds of the mental abyss, may these visuals connect beyond words, yet equally convey the strength of thousand words.
Aluta continua!
Perfekto
Images in order of appearance:
25K (Rapper/Trapper), Next Level, Waldrift, Vereeniging, 2022.
Masai Sepuru, (Set Designer, Art Director, Playwrighter, Poet), Ah Men at The Johannesburg Market Theatre, 2023.
Terry Wizz (DJ, Culture Connecter, Wave Maker), Most Wanted at Zone 6, Soweto, 2023.
Mandisa Ntsinde (Editor-In-Chief/ Hip-Hop/Rap Culture Commentator/ Poet/ StarDust/ Multimedia Journalist), Maboneng District, Johannesburg, 2021.
The Sage Delicacy, Gigiri, Kenya 🇰🇪
04.2026
Nestled in Nairobi’s diplomatic district, practically a stone throw from the UN, lies an oasis dressed up as a chic modern home to a dance of flavours, culture and a quiet corner away from the city’s buzz. If you didn’t know of The Sage Delicacy, you would certainly miss this gem.
Why The Sage: Because my office is where I can sit stilly and have uncapped connectivity, with the option to have bottomless coffee. The scenery too, is as majestic as the food.
Love,
Perfekto
I miss my camera. Without it I’m blind, how do I begin to marvel at the world lightyears away from my lunar eclipse conjurer? Oh 50mm STM lens, never have I been so naked without you.
Who takes a deep dive into waters of a different time zone and forgets a pocket full of third eyes? I cannot imagine lucid visuals of hawks, camels, cityscapes and an unending tapestry of magic without you.
Forgive me, I’d lost my foresight between weeks of involuntary load shedding and hurried stuffing of travel bags (it was definitely procrastination, under a layer of work).
Now here, afar from what feels like a firm grip on your silicon and plastic body, I realise… that you should have never been an offering for a family gathering to sack up mementos. You belong, deeply and personally… with me.
Until I see you again, remain dust and prints free.
- Perfekto
Shattered – An Ode to Poem
Meet a sister, friend, fire-breathing dragon and one of the most prolific music journalists of our time. For years, her pen game ran circles around rappers and many other artists who have the highest regard for lyricism. She accomplished this using in-depth music reviews, woven to life by a pen no one else could wield. And when she wasn’t deliberating on her love for the musical arts (Hip-Hop/Rap), she was using her voice to raise awareness for social causes she cared deeply about.
For I love her so, I celebrate her… using only some freshly and finely picked words from the world of dancing thoughts.
Shattered – An Ode to Poem
We’ve been glasses before, casing our souls right next to the world of storms. Ailments of sorts, inherent in the tender and luminous light we forged,
Out of pain, joyous places we’re from, and the cumulus cloud that rained into season friendships that can only be understood through song.
But this is neither sonnet or psalm, only a conjuring of spirits distilled to mourn, our goddess friend of light, whom in human form has raised sunlight as her own. Left pronounced prints of her soul in our hearts,
That now incessantly beat to raise tides of memories harboured in us, where you assume many forms, memorialised in time.
Happy belated Heavenly birthday
And for comfort, in absence of visual depictions of a world vividly portrayed through the pupil and iris, I curl up inside ink and papyrus.
So tonight, I’m here, nestled inside what little fancy my mind could find, cornered by dreams and plans alike, I sit, soak and hide.
“I do not want to miss a chance of getting us a slice of this magnificent African cake.”
-Leopold II of Belgium
The relentless pursuit of profits in the Congo by King Leopold II resulted in one of the worst levels of moral decadence for mankind. The colony in the Congo – the Congo Free State – was personal property for the Belgian king and there was little oversight over what happened there.
King Leopold II committed heinous atrocities in the name of chasing profits and raising the prestige of Belgium. The genocide in the Congo is one of the most forgotten pieces of history, but the damage has been long-lasting. From 1885-1908, the Congo Free State under the personal rule of King Leopold II was living hell.
The scramble for Africa by European countries was an intense one, and Belgium, under the monarchical rule of King Leopold II did not want to be left out. Leopold had always been of the view that in order to raise the prestige of Belgium higher (thus raising the status of the country) it was necessary to acquire a colonial empire in the Far East or in Africa. The concept of acquiring a colony was not popular with Belgian politicians and the public. It was considered an unnecessary venture that would add little value to the country. The reluctance of the politicians to accept an adventure towards acquiring colonies could not deter Leopold from getting a colony of his choice.
He instead shifted his focus to explorers and missionaries. Spurred by the recent reports from Central Africa at that time, he began sponsoring explorers, including Henry Morton Stanley. Leopold then established the International African Association – which was purported to be a “charitable” organization on a mission to “spread humanitarian assistance and civilization” to the natives in the Congo.
The organization was handed the rights to oversee the exploration and surveying of territory around the Congo River. In reality, the organization was up to no charity but was solely for profits in the Congo. At the Berlin Conference of 1884-85, the territory controlled by Leopold (totaling 2,350,000 km2) was recognized by other European leaders. The Congo Free State was then meant to be a free trade area and buffer state between British and French spheres of influence. The takeover of the Congo for Leopold’s personal rule had been complete.
The Congo Free State was a patchy colony since the Belgian government had not officially annexed it. Being under the personal rule of Leopold, he did as he pleased to maximize profits. At first, the colony specialized in ivory exports, but this was not as profitable as the investors, administrators, and Leopold himself had thought to be. The colonial administration was always in debt, but the invention of the car and the subsequent demand for rubber changed the colonial fortunes of Leopold.
The dramatic increase in the demand for rubber was music to Leopold’s ears. At that time, the Congo was one of the places in the world with a vast supply for wild rubber. The focus was immediately turned towards the extraction of wild rubber. They used the local people as cheap labour, and the gruesome brutality that came with the extraction of rubber remains one of the darkest chapters in the history of Africa. Congolese males were forced into rubber extraction for export to Europe and North America. Between 1895 and 1900, exports surged from 580 to 3,740 tons.
Concessions were granted to private companies to extract the rubber. All vacant land in the interior – including uncultivated land and all forests – was declared to be “uninhabited” and thus belonged to the state. It effectively and expressly implied all resources in the Congo were under direct colonial ownership. The rest of the land was personal private property for Leopold; and he never set foot in the Congo. The Force Publique – a colonial military force in the Congo at the time, employed vicious and barbarous methods to ensure the unending, uninterrupted extraction of rubber from the local people. The Force Publique comprised of white officers and African soldiers. The soldiers included original recruits, orphans, and slaves.
Rubber quotas were imposed on villages and the Force Publique was called in to enforce these quotas, which were unrealistic to fill. Failure to meet the quotas was punishable by violence and death. The Force Publique would destroy villages, rape women, take hostages, torture, and extort the people. Men who could not fill their quotas would be mutilated and/or killed. At times whole villages that could not fill their quotas would be burned down to the ground as a lesson for other villages. Women and children would be taken hostage until the men filled their designated quotas. The women would be raped.
The furiously high demand for rubber in the 1890s saw the colonial administrators impose quotas that were unachievable. Those who resisted had to be killed, and that meant the use of arms. Ammunition was expensive to import from Europe, therefore, to account for the bullets used in killing people, soldiers were supposed to bring a hand for every bullet used. For every person shot and killed, providing a hand was evidence of a real killing and not wastage of bullets. The administrators believed some of the bullets would be wasted by soldiers hunting. The basket of hands became a grisly nightmare of Leopold’s Red Rubber Terror in the Congo. For proof of the killings done, hands cut off from the victims were supposed to be availed. Sometimes the soldiers would be paid for severed hands because it was proof that they were carrying out the system of terror in the colony.
Nothing was regulated by law, there was little oversight since private companies were given the powers to control the entire production process which included the extraction of rubber. In essence, the rubber quotas were paid off in chopped-off hands. The hands were collected by the Force Publique soldiers, but sometimes hands were also collected by the villagers themselves. Since the rubber quotas were unrealistic to fill, small wars would break out between villages in which they would fight for hands. Hands were a way to buy the loyalty of the white officers to show that the system of terror to force rubber extraction was being implemented. Each hand proved a killing, but sometimes the soldiers would cut off the hands of victims to save ammunition – leaving the victim to either die or survive. It was a “cheating” way to save ammunition. The need for profits spurred incomprehensible human violence. It was an abysmal point in the history of mankind……..
Demonic.
Dr. Frances Cress Welsing Articulates The Root Of Racism!
Must remember, must remember, must remember, must remember, must remember, must remember, must remember, must remember, must remember, must remember, must remember, must remember, must remember!
unfortunately very true. Doing Better does not always mean never being upset or never being triggered or never having trouble. often Doing Better means experiencing those things and being able to keep going/cope healthily/move on. if you’re in a bubble with no sensation, if you’re numbing yourself out, that’s not what recovering really is. it won’t help you have a happier life it’ll just make your world smaller and smaller until you can’t fit anywhere anymore. gotta learn to make peace with the hard stuff too, that’s the only way to keep going
Sinenhlanhla Passcara Mthembu is her name, and Black excellence is her thang!
social media is fake. enjoy your real life.