Surviving Gaza

Ladies and gentlemen...

residents of Gaza...

welcome to the Big Bonanza.

My grandfather says South Africa's freedom represents the birth of a new dawn,

a new country with new possibilities,

and most importantly new dreams.

A South Africa where we won't just be miners but we can be actors, singers, and even dancers.

Participants stand a chance to win...

the new state of the art tape recorder selling at two thousand rands on promotion.

Yes!

Our next act, please welcome Marcia!

Eish, unlike my grandfather, my grandmother didn't believe in the dream of the new South Africa.

She believes that...

Phuzi, a real man works with his hands.

'I have a plan.'

'I have a plan.'

Do you see him?

Can you see him? Where is he?

Okay, okay, wait. Go look that side and I'll look this side.

- Okay. - Okay.

Haven't you heard that at the Big Bonanza that these kids can win a TV set, radios and even money...

just by singing and dancing? Even I could win there.

I don't want to hear anything about music, don't tell me anything about music.

Take off your uniform! Take off your uniform and help your grandfather.

Money!

- Money or the box? - Money!

Mama, you heard them. They say you should take the money. What do you say?

The box!

The box, it is then. Give her the box!

- Sing and dance! - Win!

- Sing and dance! - Win!

Do you know what? Please be trustworthy, do you hear me?

I'm allowing you to go. Come back on time, do you hear me?

Take these keys. I will say I sent you to deliver them to Mnyakeni, do you hear me?

Please, let's give a warm welcome to Zaddy.

'Zaba yaba yaba zumba...'

Phuzi and the gang, please prepare yourselves.

No one must disrespect us here. Shove off!

This is Gaza, and we're in charge!

While the rest of South Africa was chasing the new dream,

young boys in Gaza found their voice in the world of crime.

- Hey, Keys. - Argh, stop it.

- Did you find him? - No, I can't find him.

Eish, Keys though.

Phuzi!

- Hey, Jan. So, what do you say? - No, hold on. Our group is complete.

No, Jan. Don't do this. Jan?

Why are you always hanging about Thandeka? You should give the rest of us a chance with her.

Why are you tell me this? Thandeka is right behind you.

What's going on? Is there a problem?

No, there's no problem, Thandeka. I was thinking you and I could go watch a movie together?

Me and you, watching a movie together?

- Argh, let's go, Phuzi. - Titus, the local rich kid.

Everyone knows he has a crush on Thandeka but unfortunately, she didn't have eyes for him.

Yes, yes, yes!

'Oh, o-, '

'Oh, '

'Mm-mm'

'Don't cry, my dear, I'm back. The days go by quite fast, I'll be back soon.'

'Calm down, our days of being poor will pass.'

'Even if you shot me, like Jesus, I will rise. Every day, in the morning...'

'in the afternoon, we're fighting for a better life.'

So, what are we going to sing for the final? I mean, Zaddy is hot.

We need to beat him.

- Ah, Zaddy is no competition to us, Thandeka. - No.

- We've got this. - Uh-uh.

Okay, let me play you this beat.

Okay.

Yeah, I don't know.

Jan, what do you think?

But you aren't giving it a chance, Thandeka?

Eish...

No, dude. Thandeka is right. This beat is boring.

- Then again, why must you always decide on the tracks? - Argh, Comrade Majola, this isn't politics.

You know that I'm the one with the music.

What do we have?

No, man. You're the gang.

We're in this together.

- We're in this together. - Okay, listen, if we want to win the Big Bonanza,

we need a better beat than this.

- Phuzi, Jan is right. - Mm.

We need to have options. We're a group right?

Actually, why do you like to changing beats at the last hour?

Oh my, Phuzi, where are you off to?

- I'm off to make deliveries. - We're rehearsing though?

Uh-uh, Phuzi!

Hey, Phuzi!

Mr. Mnyakeni.

How are you, my boy?

I'm well, how are you, Mr. Mnyakeni?

No worries. How is the old man doing?

He is well. He sent me here.

Oh, okay. Okay.

Oh, my keys! Thank your old man for me.

Tell him to take care of himself.

- I will tell him, Mr. Mnyakeni. - Take care of yourself too, my boy.

- Okay, Mr. Mnyakeni. - Alright, Phuzi.

- Cool. - Okay.

- Cool, Mr. Mnyakeni. - Cool, Phuzi.

There's the dog! Hey you!

Call your friends, do you hear me? Hey! Don't disrespect me!

Hey, Nyora! Nyora!

Come out, come out!

Where is your friend? Come out! Hey, Bhonyoza!

Hey, there's only one boss here!

There are only three qualifications in Gaza.

A diploma for knife-gurus. The kings of the stabbing game.

You see, a knife guru can stab you thirty-six times, and you will still survive.

What makes you think you can disrespect me?

Hey, shove off, man!

What are going to do? Here is your friend?

Then, there's a degree. It is given to those who have committed murder.

You see, this qualification is considered to belong to the most heartless gangs of Gaza.

Last but not least, there's the masters degree. The highest qualification in Gaza.

This one is reserved for heist kingpins such as Thabo Lekwe AkA Mjuk-Eight.

He has multiple masters degrees.

Let's go!

Let's go!

In Gaza, he is referred to as the king of heists.

- The Jesus of Gaza. - You'll buy your grandmother a cold drink.

Phuzi.

Hey, Phuzi!

My goodness, Phuzi!

- What nonsense is this? - Ah, Granny, relax.

Thabo, shut your mouth. You rubbish!

- Ah, Granny. - You better listen to me carefully. Shut up!

If I ever see you next to Phuzi again, I'll make you soil yourself, do you hear me?

- Ah, Granny... - You'll soil yourself like a dog, I swear!

Phuzi, you filthy thing! I don't know what you're doing with this criminal.

- Sorry, Granny. - Have you also become corrupt?

Sorry?

You dog!

Let's go, let's go!

Residents of Gaza,

welcome again, it's time for the...?

Big Bonanza!

It's time of the...?

Big Bonanza!

- Sing, dance! - No, man, where is Thandeka?

- I thought she would come here with you. - I thought I would find her here.

Eish, relax. She'll pitch up.

There you go! Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for Phuzi and the gang!

Something is off about Thandeka not coming to the performance today.

This is not the moment she would want to miss.

- Ayeye, Gaza, ayeye! - Ayeye!

Ayeye!

Thandeka's absence opens the door to a new acquaintance. His story too is one we're not ready for.

- I refuse to come back to this house. - Mama, I'm begging you. Ma, No!

Uh-uh, Ma!

'Tell me, if we were held at gunpoint, would you stand for it...

'would you run away and forget about me, my girl?

'Yeah, yeah, sure. Look, babe, tell me...'

'Where do you see yourself in the next five years?'

'To be honest, you and I are suited for each other.'

Your father beats me right before your eyes.

Phuzi!

Phuzi!

- Phuzi! - Thandeka!

- Thandeka! - Phuzi!

Phuzi...

The truth is no one wants to come from a place like Gaza.

Those who come from here, cannot wait wait to get out...

and those who have made it out, never want to come back.

'My friends don't sleep.'

'They want Dickies, All-Stars, cars and girls.'

'My friends don't sleep. They want Dickies, All-Stars, cars and girls.'

'My friends don't sleep. They want Dickies...

Phuzi.

Hey, Phuzi!

- Phuzi, what did I say to you? - Gogo, I'm just...

Phuzi, didn't I instruct you to get water to nurse your grandfather?

I don't know what has gotten into this boy, you know?

Calm down.

Bro, have you heard?

What?

They say M'du Masilela is coming and he wants demos.

Gents, I'm busy. I have some deliveries to make.

You know that my grandfather is sick.

I need to run the family business.

I can't focus on kwaito.

What?

I thought this was your dream.

Like everyone else in Gaza, Jan has a dream.

But Gaza always has a dream for its own people.

Gents, here are the names starting with M.

Phuzi is the only one who passed.

Your name is not there, Jan. You failed.

Don't worry. You can be Nyora's side kick.

Papi, wait, man. We're still searching here.

Mabuza.

Madlala.

Jan Tomas Majola, here it is.

Did you pass, boy?

- Huh? - Three distinctions, my friend!

You're the man.

Give me your six, comrade.

- There you go! - Wow!

Phuzi you didn't even get one distinction.

If you had not quit school, would you have passed matric?

School is not for me, boy.