A TRIBUTE ON HIS DEATH
BY HIS FRIEND AND COMRADE

China Matsipa, yes China Matsipa.
My dear brother, my bosom friend, my comrade, my colleague, my fellow revolutionary,
my fellow mischief maker, minder of my children- Yes China you are all of these things
and many more than I can ever mention.

It’s been a journey of 55 long years, filled with youthful fun and jolly laughter, a journey
of adventure and adversity, a journey of growth and wisdom until the grey hairs and
bald pates crept on us and our grand children began prancing around our knees.
Whether by chance or providence I do not know, but we have been tied together at the
hip, like Siamese twins. It is a pity one of us had to go and I’m sad China that it falls to
me to say goodbye. We however, have to accept that the world is a dangerous place,
no one leaves this place alive.

Champion Jack Dupree, the blues crooner of our time taught us about friendship in a
most evocative and plaintive dedication to his friend called,
The Death of Big Bill Broonzy, he says,
“we made a promise between the both of us,
He promised if I was to die first he would make the blues of Champion
Jack Dupree
and he told me that if he died before me I had to make the blues of Big Bill,
so, I hated to see him go,
and it’s fortune that I had to be the one to make the blues of Big Bill,
and I know it hurts me to my heart,
but I’ll try”

Today I have to make the blues of China and it hurts me to my heart, but I’ll try.

When China joined me at the Medical School Alan Taylor Residence my friend was the
late Foxy Phukubye. In addition to being very smart this Foxy chap was the most
mischievous and streetwise fellow known to mankind. Although he was a B.Sc.
graduate and a medical student he was a township smart incarnate.To his credit he had
found me wandering in the township minding my own business and contemplating how
to overthrow the white government. He took me by hand and frogmarched me to
Medical School. In all fairness to him
I did not get all my mischief from him; after all I had come to Medical School via a 3 year
prison sentence for sedition myself.

In comes this China young man with spindly legs, big head, slit eyes set deep in his
forehead and with a wry smile that hid mischief. Perhaps it was the rebellious streak in each of us, or the mischief or the inquisitiveness that drew us together, but before long
we were an awesome threesome. We stamped our presence on the Medical School
and the Alan Taylor Residence and beyond in the whole of Durban. We consumed
everything that was consumable and drank life to the lees. It was at this time that
Dennis Madide gave China his name on account of his small eyes.

While Foxy had this exuberance and joy d’vivre, and I was always a rebel with or
without a cause, China had this studied and deliberate demeanor. It is no surprise that
he ascended the very pinnacle of academic life to become a professor. My wife and
children, who are his biggest admirers, say he is so natty in everything that he even has
a designer walk and manner of speaking.

In those early days I was still smart especially in Maths and sciences I established a self
styled Academy in my room where I offered Maths and Science tutorials. Among my
most avid students were China and Klaas Mogotlane. When Klaas was already a
professor, he always told anyone who cared to listen about how this academy helped
him understand basic physics and chemistry. Later when we were joined by another
gangly and argumentative youngster from the Eastern Cape called Steve Biko our
Academy transcended Maths and science and evolved into a most intense school of
philosophy and politics. It became a crucible of intellectual cut and thrust and a cauldron
for brewing ideas and igniting a revolutionary renaissance that was to set our country
ablaze. China was integral to those seminal marathon debates that raged between Biko
and I as we wrestled with the problems confronting black students and black people as
a whole. He was integral to the crystallization of B/C and it’s propagation, including
conscientization and the numerous confrontations we had with the regime. In fact his
name featured prominently in the Frelimo trial in which I was imprisoned for almost 10
years . It is thanks to him and his comrades that B/C gripped the imagination of the
entire oppressed nation and propelled the seismic changes that occurred in our country.
So as we lay China to rest let us doff our hats to this gallant patriot and his comrades.

Like many of our compatriots we felt seriously betrayed by the ruling class. The poor
leadership in our country, the disdain of the ruling elite for our people, the grand larceny
and the many other misdeeds are revolting in the extreme.

But we are not defeated, we remain standing and fighting.

As Ulysses says:

“Tho much is taken, much abides, and tho
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

I cannot thank China enough for being part of my life. In the dark days of security terror
when my family was ostracized he stood by their side with material and emotional
support, at the risk of personal danger. He sent me a trumpet on the Island to lighten my
ordeal. He even bought me two suits and a pair of ill fitting shoes on my release from
prison. He buried my parents and I his.

That’s what a call friendship made in heaven!

It was people like him and Gees Abram and that taught me the true meaning of
comradeship in the face of danger and away from the glaring cameras and cheering
crowds.

To his children. He loved you dearly, he raised you well and gave you values and tools
to navigate your way through life. Mourn him and grieve to your heart’s content and for
as long as you desire.

But let me leave with these words from the Bible, John 12; 24

“Except a corn of wheat falleth into the ground and die,
It abideth alone;
But if it die,
It bringeth forth much fruit.”

Prof taught us discipline and dedication. He would always arrive for our 7am meetings 10 to 15 minutes prior without fail. The rest of us, out of breath, would all rush in seconds before 7am risking the embarrassment of being kicked out. His morning meetings were always full to capacity with senior and junior doctors haggling for space and not giving a second thought to sitting on the floor as long as they were present. He was highly respected by all and so not attending any of his meetings was tantamount to disrespect. Prof was very committed to our development and in turn we were committed to being diligent students – simply put, we loved him dearly.

One of my fondest memories of Prof Matsipa was how he would thoroughly prepare for student presentations. As a student one would spend days on a topic, preparing for each eventuality and loophole but Prof would always present you with a scenario which would leave you speechless. To show that he took your work into great consideration he would even go as far as handing you photocopied articles of cases related to your topic encouraging you to read further.

Prof also bore no grudges. He would kick you out of a meeting only to interact with you later in theatre as if nothing happened. He would ask you about your slate for the day and after briefing him he would quiz you, share his perspective and then ask you to read further on the case.

Following Prof’s departure, the enthusiasm for morning meetings declined, moral was low and there were more seats than people. Prof Matsipa was to us a symbol of hope, dedication and possibilities. And so, his absence created a void in each of us which was painful to articulate.

My most precious memory was when in March of this year, rushing from one meeting to another, I received a phone call from a number I did not immediately recognise. It turned out to be Prof, congratulating me and my class for having passed the 2019 exam. After a brief exchange I asked him whether he was doing any private work. In typical fashion he broke out in laughter and said “I am sure I would kill somebody!”

Although Prof is gone, in us he will always live on. Perhaps that is the life we should all strive for. Rest in peace Professor Matsipa, in us your life carries on.

In 2017, I visited Taung ha Matsipa, for the first time. When I passed by his shop, Ntate Lenkoane, called over to me and wanted to know which Matsipa I was. Before I could explain myself, he said this;

“It is common knowledge in this area that The Matsipa’s are very intelligent and well educated. Haba tshabe buka e bile baya hlanya!”

It dawned on me in that moment that my family was more notorious than I had imagined. Indeed, upon further reflection of my father and the backdrop of this genesis, whether known or unbeknowned to him, he carried the mantle of the Matsipa legacy. From the mountains of Taung and through his life’s achievements, he truly was the epitome of our ancestors’ wishes and dreams.

I will always remember my father as someone who loved the finer things in life but more so as someone who was passionate and intentional about cultivating young black talent and excellence. The latter is the legacy we shall continue to carry.

Our last conversation began as always with the usual “Hello child” – his ultimate signature. I will miss that and wish that we had shared more moments together.

Malapa kaofela a BaKhutho:

Kabi

Matsie

Matsipa

Letshoar

Phantsi Ba’o amohele Motaung, Masia-rumo!

We used to play most of our games on Sundays as most of the clubs around that time were not fully open to people of colour. In 1992 December, we decided to form a golf society with the like minded professionals comprised of Zanosi Kunene, Dr Joel Matsipa, Jerry Shongwe, Dr Mbere, Khulu Sibiya, Sydney Malabie, Zamani Jali , late Vusi Ngubeni, late Abner Mofokeng and myself.

From a golfing skills and talent Dr Matsipa was the best of our society but due to his ill discipline and care free attitude, the dominant Player became  Zanosi Kunene. The friendship grew from there and once a year we would travel both locally and overseas with families for golf and most cases after a heavy night, Dr Matsipa mostly would decide to sleep over playing golf his famous saying “ I gave it stick last night.”

Some of the fond memories about his wit, he had his way of shuttle responding when being praised for a great shot in golf so every time you shouted “ great shot doc” he would simply respond by saying “I know, that was the intention.” The greatest lesson he always taught us as our kids were growing and getting into the troublesome ages, “ children are not yours but parents are just a conduit, they belong to the creator.”

The picture represent our first Champ of Champs in 1993 which was hosted at Mark Headbush house in Johannesburg before deciding to make our champ of champs , a family affair and to travel outside Gauteng.

For some unknown reasons, the doctor decided to restart smoking and every time you made a negative comment about  smoking or his lack of appetite, his quick response would be” which medical university were you at as I have never seen you in a medical class.” We had our last game with him on the 20th June and on the 27th, he cancelled in the morning claiming that they were “giving It stick “ with his old home boy and business partner Junius Lekgetha  till early hours in the morning.

The golfing fraternity will miss him , his wit and his golfing skills which he help most of us to improve at.

May his soul Rest in  Peace.

Moss Gondwe

As a young man, Uncle Joel was always there for me. His understanding of family was so compassionate. The funny thing is that he felt the same way about his patients, his students and his friends.

  When we reconnected as a family in the early 90’s. It was just one phone call from my Mom in the UK. He didn’t hesitate. He flew all the way to London to invite me to Johannesburg. 

I asked him why he didn’t just call. He laughed and said that it was because he wanted to invite me in person over a beer and a cigarette. I was completely disarmed and could feel the family love in that instance.

I flew over to Johannesburg (my first trip to SA) and stayed with Uncle for a couple of weeks. We spoke endlessly about life, family, love and responsibilities. The trip was so memorable. It left an indelible mark in my heart. I was only 22 years old.

My uncle Joel was very deliberate with his words. He was a man of principle. He loved teaching and he loved learning. He encouraged expression and he allowed room for growth.

It was my birthday on July the 5th. You can therefore only imagine the medley of emotions that I felt when I heard of his passing on the morning of July the 6th. On my part, I can only imagine the tributes that will come from his friends and some of his former students.

Uncle Joel was as constant as the Northern star. Always there for you. Never judging anyone. It is difficult to accept that he has gone to rest. Uncle Joel lived an accomplished life. He achieved all of his goals. I am therefore inclined to celebrate him. I would like everyone to think of him as a hero of life. I will remember his smile.

I will remember his love of family.

I will never forget my Uncle Joel. Rest In Perfect Peace Ntate.

Till we meet again xoxox.

Achuzie Ezenagu

Managing Director/CEO

TOUCAN AVIATION SUPPORT SERVICES LTD

Ikeja, Lagos, Nigeria.

Joel better known as China had an impeccable intellect, immense wisdom, and yet he was humble, compassionate and humorous. He didn’t suffer fools gladly. He had a stinging tongue with a dismissive style that would disarm anybody on the receiving end.

In the words of Shakespeare “His life was gentle and elements were so mixed in him that nature might stand up and say this was a man.”

To me he was a kid brother that I never had. We first met at University of Natal Medical School. I was impressed by this soft-spoken pint size intellectual giant with an incisive brain. I had good memories of my life with Joel both at medical school and Soweto after he qualified as a doctor.

He joined me as a partner in my General practise. He stayed with me in my house in Soweto. Nice parties we had. He was an avid golfer who was a marvel to watch on the golf course. He could execute golf shots that are legendary and pleasure to watch. Can only be repeated by Tiger Woods.

He premature exit from life has left us with a void that can only be filled with remembrance, joy, friendship and love.

Joel was small in stature but was fearless and courageous in the face of danger. I recall him challenging a mean gangster in Soweto. I was so scared as always and took him home quickly knowing what could happen to him, if not me. The gangster was equally scared not knowing who Joel was and also disappeared quickly too.

He started his successful medical practise in Katlehong. He was loved and respected by the community. Later in his live he ventured into academia. He specialised in Anaesthesia and qualified as a specialist Anaesthetist in Medunsa. He had an illustrious career in anaesthetist, involved in teaching under graduate and post graduate students. He was later appointed as Professor of Anaesthesia in Medunsa and he was later appointed consultant in the Clinix Group of hospitals until his untimely death.

At one stage I had to visit him in Katlehong at his home. I met his mother who didn’t know me, to whom I respectfully asked for the whereabouts of Matsipa. I was severely admonished by his mother who said “That Joel is not Matsipa, Tota is Matsipa”.

Jabu Mabuza once jokingly said to Joel, that I never thought you take alcohol until I saw you sober. Joel was highly political together with his friends Aubrey Mokope and Foxy Phukubye. He was active in student politics; he was one of the founders of the Black Consciousness Movement. He was later despondent about the arrogance of power in politics of the day.

I am saddened about the unexpected, premature death. Death is nothing but a cheat, it has removed Matsipa physically from us but he is still with us in spirit. His memory will always be part of our lives.

“Death lays his icy hands even upon kings”.

Death leaves us with a heartache no one can heal, love leaves us with a memory no one can steal. Time is a physician that heals every grief.

Joel Matsipa adored his daughters immensely. He relished in their academic achievements. I had promised to attend his daughter’s wedding in Nigeria later in the year.

I want to thank Emily his partner, for taking care of Joel in his later years. They were like twins.

Lala Ngoxolo my brother, China.

Thank you to Mpho, who on behalf of the Matsipa clan afforded me the privilege of writing down a short tribute to Bra Joe (as I called him). When she tried to call me I missed her call because I was on the Golf Course at Country Club Johannesburg (CCJ) – how coincidental and possibly fitting because Bra Joe was such an accomplished golfer and had displayed his golfing skills on CCJ to many of his golfing buddies and anyone else who might have been watching. Coincidentally, it was at CCJ on Sunday (5 July 2020) that I learnt from Moss Gondwe that Bra Joe was admitted to hospital.

Contact was made with a number of colleagues who were with Bra Joe at Alan Taylor Residence to hear what they will miss about him or what they remember about him and it was interesting how certain themes emerged from their remembrances and memories about him during those days at Alan Taylor Residence – HIS UNIQUE DRY HUMOUR, HIS WITTISMS, HIS TOWNSHIP CRED AND HOW HE PORTRAYED IT.

Important to note is that some, if not most of them, have passed on but I will mention a few living colleagues and a few who have passed on. I called Aubrey Maitshwe Mokoape, Chappie Palweni, Ben Mgulwa and Peter Tlakula and they remembered many things about China which I will not repeat but will add vignettes as I conclude about this man. How I could have loved to have heard from Bra Foxie Phukubye, Bra Charles Siwele and Bra Klaas Mogotlane on their remembrances about China. May Their Beautiful Souls Rest In Eternal Peace.

At Alan Taylor Residence he also played softball and was at his best when getting at the opposition and dredging them. I remember matches against Turfloop and Fort Hare during Intervarsity Softball matches.

He loved listening to Jazz and singing Jazz songs. I wonder if he sang in the shower. He actually had a very good voice but he might not have realised it because that could have been a second career sic! There is a song by Clark Terry that we used to play in my “He-Been aka Res Tavern” entitled “Tread ye Lightly” and the sleeve had this message – Tread ye Lightly amongst the dead and trust not the living”.

Lastly but not least, I also had a chat with his brother Bra Tota. They called each other Matsipa and got at each other all the time. That was one of Bra Joe’s attributes – he loved and adored his brother unreservedly and never failed to show it to those who could see. Whenever he spoke to Bra Tota you heard his best wittisms and humour not forgetting that Bra Tota is just a mirror image of his brother’s humour and wittisms.

Dr Peter Tlakula remembers:

They were in sitting in the Canteen at Medical School and Bra Joe turned to him and said “Pete, how I dislike these cadavers”. Little did Bra Joe realise that he would end up in later years sending people into deep sleep that was almost like they were dead.

Dr Mandla Mazizi remembers with fondness and appreciation:

Bra Joe gave him his furniture and equipment when Mandla was setting up practice in Vosloorus. This was when Bra Joe was winding up to go to specialise in Anaesthesiology. Mandla further notes that they met as amiable opposition (O- Nozakazaku) in a Lobola Negotiation session at the late Bra Klaas Mogotlane’s home.

Dr Chappie Palweni remembers:

Dr Thabo Seseane proposes:

After Bro Joe’s funeral let us have a discussion about a Prof. J J Matsipa Annual Golf Day.