“Your mother used to sing this,” Vusi says softly. “She wrote it during the 1980s, in the struggle. She said, ‘Vusi, if I ever go silent, you sing it for my children.’”
She wakes up with tears on her face and a single lyric in her heart: “Simbonga ngothando, hayi ngezinyembezi…” (We thank You through love, not through tears…) Simbonga Ngothando feat. Vusi Nova
No one speaks for a while. Then Vusi sits at an old, out-of-tune piano in the corner (Mama’s piano). He plays a single chord—the same chord from Thando’s dream. “Your mother used to sing this,” Vusi says softly
The three of them spend the night arranging the song. Vusi records it on his phone. Lwando adds a bass line from an old guitar. By dawn, the shack isn’t a tomb anymore. It’s a sanctuary. Then Vusi sits at an old, out-of-tune piano
Lwando stops at the door. His hand falls from the handle. He turns back. Without a word, he sits down, puts his head in his hands, and weeps—not from grief, but from release.
Here’s a story built around the evocative title (We Thank You Through Love) featuring Vusi Nova , imagining it as a deeply emotional, spiritual song. The Story: Simbonga Ngothando (feat. Vusi Nova) The Setting: It’s the dead of winter in Gqeberha (Port Elizabeth). The rain hasn’t come in months. Thando (40), a former choir leader who lost her voice to grief, sits on the cracked floor of her mother’s empty shack. Her mother, Mama Nomvula, passed away two weeks ago. The only thing left is a worn hymn book and a single candle.
That night, Thando has a dream. She sees her mother dancing in a field of sunflowers, but her mother’s mouth doesn’t move. Instead, the voice coming from her mother’s spirit is soft, broken, yet hopeful. It’s singing a melody Thando has never heard.