A joyous night of soul, spirit and hope.

In a time when there are many reasons to feel frustrated, lost and despairing, there isn’t a much better remedy than South African Road Trip to provide, as its subtitle reveals, Good Hope. 

This is one of those shows that makes you want to get out of your seat and sing, dance and let the music fill your soul. The production itself is simply staged. Two screens at the back act as video backdrops during the songs and offer short pre-recorded interview moments in between, offering the audience a chance to get to know more about the performers. While there isn’t a narrative to speak of, the continuity comes in the feeling of community and the shared objective that music can change the world.

You don’t have to speak the language to feel the impact. The songs themselves touch on everything from love to loss, but each rings out as an impassioned prayer. The simple song about rain was particularly touching, as was the vulnerable number following an interview about an experience of personal loss. The unmistakable clicks and sounds of the Xhosa language are woven throughout and you can feel the group’s love for their heritage.

Every member of the troupe is talented beyond reason and it’s clear that they eat, sleep and breathe music. The ensemble is made up of eight men of the Khayelitsha United Mambazo Choir (inspired, in their own words, by Ladysmith Black Mambazo), four female Xhosa singers, and two musicians – although some singers surprise us with instrumental musicianship, too. It’s hard to explain in words the spirit of each member, the music coursing through them as if coming from deep within, the instruments becoming a continuation of their bodies, every moment an expression of the healing power of their music. Even when the topics take darker turns, with talk of grief and abuse, and the struggles faced in the poverty of Cape Town’s townships, there is a light in the eyes and smiles of the people on stage which almost adds even more weight to their experiences. They are practicing the hope they preach. Relatively early in the show, we discover that many in the group are siblings, but it doesn’t take long for the surprise to wear off; related or not, this ensemble are clearly a family.

The production is well-structured. The mixture of isicathamiya, a traditional South African form of a cappella choral singing, and Xhosa music gives the show a breadth and variety which keeps the audience engaged, and simple but effective costume changes are cleverly covered by moments of instrumental interludes – also giving the percussionists a chance to impress with their ability.

The word isicathamiya doesn’t have a literal translation. It is derived from a Zulu verb which means “tread carefully.” From the moment the ensemble train marches softly on to the stage, you can sense their care, their togetherness, their harmony. It’s joy incarnate, and it shouldn’t be missed.