Dear Tabloid Journalist

A Letter to every tabloid journalist that has ever written about me

Let me start by saying Thank You for always making sure my brand remains in the public eye. Because of you, Ntsiki Mazwai is a household name and every Sunday’s conversation.

I believe that I have been tolerant with the tabloids for over a decade, but now I think it is time that I say something.

Tabloid journalism is the lowest form of writing/journalism. When a writer is not developed and is still hustling….they get sent out to write about celebrities. Just on that level….we are not equals. I have a developed talent and brand… don’t.

The fact that you write rubbish about me at every single event I go to, tells me that you are paying attention to me. Not only are you paying attention to me….but you are seething with jealousy.

Mzansi has been reading about Ntsiki Mazwai before she was even Ntsiki Mazwai. There is something about me that lights up the event and has you writing about every move I make.

To be honest with you, I don’t know who you are…..nor do I care. Lol. It is just thoroughly fascinating for me to be this woman who is always intimidating everybody. I make an impact in your life and yet I couldn’t be bothered to even learn your names. In my eyes you will always be groupies gone wrong.

Lately your claws have been out and I know it is about that man Tumelo and generally the men who pay attention to me at these events…..yes, the celebrity men that you want.

The thing is talent is very attractive. You can write all the crap you want about me….but these men will always find me sexy. Sorry.

I don’t know what Tumelo has promised you. I don’t know which ones of you he has played. However, using your platform to discredit me, just because he wants me, is sad ladies. Get a grip.

In today’s papers you wrote that I looked rachet. Is it because your body and confidence does not allow you to wear what I was wearing? Or are you pissed off because you can’t afford the boots I was wearing? I know you like to act like you got a big willy but we all know that you get paid R3 a word.

Many gossipmongers have come and gone in my reign.

What you ALL have in common is that you ALL recognise that I’m someone to talk about!

I just wanted to welcome this new generation of shwashwis and laugh at you as you continue the legacy of trying to pull a good woman down and failing DISMALLY.

Writing shit about me says more about your sad lives than it does about mine…..

Keep hustling haters……! I’m watching and I’m laughing……..

as I proceed to continue kissing these boys that you’re so damn desperate for!



I start to breathe

Already I’m making a difference

The trees and i breathe off each other

A symbiosis

Between two creatures

I am walking.

I am nature

I am solid.

Ndingmntu wabantu

Kwelilizwi likantu

I Start to Believe again

I start

I Start to believe again.

I start to open my eyes

I see the beauty

of those I walk amongst

Those I came with

Each of us a puzzle piece

of this community

Of love and levity



We are expanding the human race


I Start To Believe again

I Start

I Start To Believe Again

I start to listen…

My ears sing me songs

of bleeding hearts that need healing

Crying souls that fear living

I start to hear

the songs of children that never play

Of mothers that have no place

I Start to Believe Again

I Start

I Start to Believe Again

I start to feel

things I’ve never spoken about

The love I never received

My joy and my grief

Rolled into one

I Start to Believe Again

I Start

I Start to Believe Again


I StaRt to Belive Again

I start to see again

I start to hear again

I Start to BELIEVE Again