021FOCUS | Faziela Harris–David
On a chilly spring night in the heart of Cape Town on the 06th September, I found myself at the Star Theatre pulsed with something more than rhythm. It pulsed with raw truth. As part of this year’s Open Book Festival, the Slam City Showcase: From Slam to Fam became a full-bodied celebration of poetry, people, and performance that transcended genre and expectation. For one night, words were not just spoken. They were flung, cried, crooned, and carved into the air.
Slam City, already known for its grassroots poetry slams and intimate monthly gatherings, took to the main stage with a bigger message: that the journey from strangers in a room to a poetic family is not only possible, but necessary. “From Slam to Fam” was less of a showcase and more of a homecoming. Not just for the poets, but for every audience member who’s ever needed to be seen, heard, or held by someone else’s story.
Let me start off by saying that I had never attended anything poetry related prior, but was intrigued to attend as my good friend Riyo, a slam poet and Slam City Champion, would be performing.
The evening didn’t open quietly. It roared to life with verse that struck like a match with the beautiful co-founder Zizipho Bam. Each poet brought not only their voice but a world: Chosi started the evening off with music, and despite not understanding the words, I felt what she was saying. Mfundi the Poet opened with spiritual resonance; Gali Gali delivered verses laced with political heat and vernacular flare all the way from Jozi; while Riyo brought tears to my eyes as he spoke about what was happening in the streets and then ending with a beautiful tribute to his Dada.
Sets for the evening were performed by:
- Chosi
- Gali Gali
- Inzima
- Mfundi the Poet
- Mtunzikazi Ngozana
- Ntsako Layn
- Rea Mmethi
- Riyo
- Vusumuzi Mpofu
But this was more than a poetry slam. It felt like connecting to something deeper, something that made you feel like your emotions were valid. Their sets weren’t detours but extensions of the show’s emotional arc. Even the air in the room felt curated like someone had lit incense between verses.
There were no throwaway moments. Every snap, cheer, or hushed gasp was a thread in the tapestry being woven between audience and artist. The theatre, often a place of hierarchy; stage above, audience below; was flattened. It became a circle, a room, a living room even, where grief was passed around like salt, and joy poured freely.
People leaned forward in their seats not because they couldn’t hear, but because they needed to hear. And when a poet’s words cracked, from memory, from emotion, the audience held them up with hums, claps, “yes’s” and the kind of silence that says, “take your time; we’re here.”
There was no competition. No winner. And yet, somehow, it felt like everyone left with a prize.
In a festival typically centred around literature in book form, Slam City’s presence was a reminder that storytelling lives beyond the page. This was literature with a pulse. The event amplified Black and Brown voices often sidelined in South Africa’s literary conversations, doing so in languages and rhythms that can’t be neatly underlined or cited. This was not just about identity, it was about the fact that our voices are still very much alive.
Slam City Showcase: From Slam to Fam was not just a standout moment in the Open Book Festival, it was a defining one. It was proof that poetry is not dying in the digital age, nor confined to page or academia. It is thriving in real rooms, with real people, saying real things.
This was more than performance. It was resistance. It was family.
Follow @slamcitysa to see when the next slam happens.
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