Every time I bump into Yaya Mavundla at parties and events she manifests in all her glory — presenting perfect makeup, wonderfully glamorous ensembles and charming conversational gambits that keep me enthralled.
So naturally I proposed Just Teddy’s in Hyde Park as an appropriate environment for a social butterfly.
The Yaya that arrived was in intimate mode, bare faced with a tiny smidgen of lip gloss — free of all the war paint we woman often feel we need to present our defended selves to the world.
The self-taught artist and powerful trans activist was making a statement. It’s one that has vocal converts such as Pamela Anderson and Alicia Keys — a decision to come as you are and to own it.
She tells me her childhood in KwaZulu-Natal was tough — her mother abandoned her at two months with her grandmother.
Yaya ran away from home at 15 with only R60, slept rough on the streets of Durban for three months, sold stationery to school kids to survive and eventually reached out to an uncle.
I wonder how she kept going and did not succumb to drugs and alcohol?
“I've always been the child that is not easily influenced. I've never done anything because ‘I'm so cool’ or ‘all my friends did it’. It was difficult, especially because at the time I really had no idea of my gender identity or sexuality, even though people would point it out. Especially kids at school, they would point it out, but I had not fully embraced it.
“In my mind, I always just thought, you know, it's hate from people. Because I didn't have the full understanding of what a gay man is, a trans woman is... My bravery grew from telling myself ‘you need to be braver’. You know — you need to stand for your truth. I think those challenges, that period, really built the woman I am today.”
Seven months after leaving home Yaya returned to school, caught up and matriculated with distinction, much to his grandmother’s surprise. The move from Durban to Joburg — she came for Gay Pride and never left — brought its own troubles and destabilising moments, where her living situation became dire and dangerous again.
Yaya found solace and safety in friends like photographer Zanele Muholi and Iko Mash, who had joined the cast of Rhythm City as a transgender character, but above all in the knowledge that she could rely on herself to survive.
“I think I became more free. Even difficulties I don't see it as difficult. It's because I think I've embraced myself. That means that I know when I walk into a space, I'm seen now. Even if people decide not to see me, I know I'm seen because I've chosen to see myself. I chose to celebrate myself.”
I wonder how she feels about the trans exclusionary movement that is becoming so vocal in the world.
“I think work with me because you want to work with me, not because you want to include trans women. Then I'm not for you. Let it be because you saw something in me that you want to work with me, not because you think, we need to have a trans person, because then that's where the problem begins.
"You know, when you're going to speak of trans women taking or interfering in women's spaces, I'm like, I wonder who are these trans women that they are talking about — because I can't count more than five trans women that are in the entertainment industry and that have had big breakthroughs in their lives, you know.”
I wonder what she would tell her younger self.
“You are not watching the story unfold. You are the story, and should be glad that you did not allow society to influence your decision making, because you wouldn't have been here. You are brave, you are enough, and there's so much more that you are still going to be able to do if you never let the noise get in your way — block the noise.”
