Hidden Conversations: Kujenga

This Friday, 30 May, Kujenga brings their genre-defiant sound to Hidden Spaces, a fitting stage for a band rewriting the rules of contemporary music and redefining what it means to make jazz in South Africa today.

In a musical landscape often boxed in by genre, tradition, and marketability, Kujenga arrives as a collective force carving a space that is both rooted and radical. As they continue to make waves across jazz festivals and streaming platforms alike, the six-member band speaks with clarity, passion, and political insight about their journey, their music, and the world they’re helping to shape – one note at a time.

More Than a Name, A Mission

“We create as artists,” they explain. “We’re building something collectively that’s internal to the group and also external in regards to the ecosystem that we operate in.” The name Kujenga, Swahili for “to build,” is not merely symbolic. It reflects a deep commitment to growth – of sound, community, and cultural dialogue.

Jazz, But Not as You Know It

Kujenga doesn’t walk a tightrope between tradition and innovation, they leap across it. “We don’t necessarily try and keep it all the way that traditional type of jazz sound,” one member shares. “We do almost feel like rock stars in the middle of these jazz festivals.” They’re not trying to “fit” into jazz. In fact, they resist the label entirely: “We don’t feel comfortable saying we make jazz music. It feels limiting while the music is so expansive, it’s outside of the genre.”

That discomfort is not rejection, it’s reclamation. They see jazz not as a rigid category but as a living, breathing lineage. “The term ‘jazz’ is not sufficient to encompass the music we make. We prefer the term black improvised music because when you think of that music, a range of sounds and musicians can come to mind.”

From Garage Band to Generational Voice

“Because we did not come from a jazz pipeline, academic or otherwise, we were basically like a garage band,” they admit with refreshing honesty. “Kids from the suburb who loved making music and writing from that context, not necessarily writing because we’re working for a particular institution.” Their music was their school, they say – and that unschooled authenticity has become one of their greatest assets.

Everything, they say, “always feels like a milestone, but in the same breath, we can only imagine what is to come. Half the time we’re pinching ourselves to confirm that all this is real.” Despite their humility, Kujenga knows they’re onto something big. “We’ve got very large ambitions about this game now… We’re at the cusp of something much more beautiful.”

Audience as a Mirror

One of the most compelling aspects of Kujenga’s journey is their resonance with a multigenerational audience. “There’s an intergenerational aspect to whom we attract at shows,” they note. “Young people are seeing that this is something they can get into.” More than fans, their audience is a reflection of their message. “We’ve been able to accommodate [youth] because they see themselves in us when we’re on stage.”

They are especially aware of the sociocultural impact of that connection. “Young people now identify with this music that they’ve never been able to identify with before, because we – their agemates – are making music that hasn’t been traditionally understood as youth music, bringing a bit of noise to a previously reserved environment.”

A Collective Spirit, A Shared Future

Managing six creative lives isn’t easy, but their sense of unity is strong. Their bond allows room for growth, even beyond the band. “Our work as a band is quite demanding but we do make time and encourage each other on our individual creative pursuits.”

Whether together or apart, the shared vision remains clear. “We’re all moving towards a very similar goal, together as a group and as individuals.”

Deconstructing the Jazz Industrial Complex

Kujenga isn’t just making music, they’re challenging the systemic barriers that surround it. “Anti-blackness and capitalism have fundamentally altered how we experience and access music,” they reflect. “The music has been separated from its people, reduced to background noise in cigar lounges and expensive alcohol advertisements.”

The shift of jazz from township to suburb is a sore point. “It’s strange to me, because the music has become almost this elitist thing when it wasn’t that initially… Now it’s become academic and almost been Wi-Fi.” The irony is sharp: “The musicians who play at these festivals aren’t even able to afford to attend the festivals where their music has been played because the industry is so far-removed from the reality of creators.”

Cultural Memory and Musical Inheritance

The band draws inspiration not just from notes and chords, but from generations of cultural resistance. “We’re not just hearing about generations of musicians, but generations of cultural spokespersons,” they explain. “From Abdullah Ibrahim and Miriam Makeba during apartheid, to post-94 musicians like Zim Ngqawana and Andile Yenana, each generation carried a different cultural weight.”

And they’re carrying that weight now. “The whole approach is to understand that there’s a mission behind what we’re doing, building community, building experiences.”

Sound as Resistance, Sound as Reconnection

Kujenga’s music is a political act. “There’s not just a sonic context to it, but there’s a political aspect that has to be considered,” they argue. And in that context, terms like “jazz” fall short. Their sound pulls from “indigenous, music” and blends it with “more urban-based experience and sounds.” That fusion isn’t just musical – it’s generational, spiritual, and revolutionary.

Catch Kujenga live at Hidden Spaces this Friday, 30 May, and experience for yourself a band building more than music.