On a recent Saturday afternoon on a rooftop in Sandton surrounded by glass, steel and metropolitan dreams, I watched the phenomenon that is Zee Nxumalo, courtesy of the H&M Autumn Winter Sound Lounge.
Zee had set off a party and a frenzy of cellphone recordings.
When she arrives for lunch at the freshly relocated 1920 Portuguese Restaurant — already packed and still serving the best prawns, chips and chicken in town — she is in a floor-sweeping, violet leather trench coat and a platinum bob worthy of a multiplatinum artist.
With a virgin mojito to help us along, I wonder how she feels right now.
“It feels accomplished in a real way,” she says.
“Every time we put in the effort, we get rewarded as a team, and I always say ‘team’ because none of this happens alone. The late studio nights, the early interviews, and the financial investment from my own pocket — all of it adds up. Then you see people respond to the music, and you realise the work is speaking.
“I fund my music myself, so I understand what it costs, not only financially but emotionally. I spend time watching podcasts, studying other artists, and learning constantly. I enjoy that process because it keeps me open. The studio became my first real school. That is where I realised I could think beyond what I had seen before. It expanded everything for me, even how I approach fashion and hair and how I express myself visually.”
I have been very fortunate with the people around me. Most of the men who have managed me or worked closely with me have taken on a father role. My father made that clear from the beginning. He would say, ‘This is my daughter and you will respect her.’ That energy stayed with them. Even now I do not move alone. There is always someone looking out for me
Her creativity moves fluidly across forms.
“Some mornings I wake up and I decide I want to be a completely different version of myself,” she says, smiling. “If I feel like being red, then I become red. I start with the hair, then the outfit, and then the energy follows. It is the same in the studio. I trust that instinct.”
She was born into a layered cultural identity, Swazi through her father and Xhosa through her mother, and raised in Alexandra with strong ties to Eswatini. Her upbringing was structured by discipline and humility.
“My father believed in respect and timekeeping and being grounded,” she says. “He was not harsh, but he was clear. Then he also taught me something else which is just as important. He said, ‘Do not reduce yourself to make another person feel bigger.’ So I grew up with both things, respect and self-worth, and I think that balance shaped me.”
Music arrived early in her life when her aunts encouraged her to join them as they gathered to sing. “It did not feel serious at the time. It only became real when I was 13. My friends gave me a studio session as a birthday gift. That was the first time I recorded properly.”
Her breakthrough came years later. In between, she worked steadily, performing at talent shows and events, and in taverns or wherever she could.
“That is where I learnt how to perform. I had to win the crowd every time. I had to say to people, ‘Come and listen to me; give me your attention.’ That experience stayed with me. Now when I perform on bigger stages, it feels easier because I know how to connect.
“I have been very fortunate with the people around me. Most of the men who have managed me or worked closely with me have taken on a father role. My father made that clear from the beginning. He would say, ‘This is my daughter and you will respect her.’ That energy stayed with them. Even now I do not move alone. There is always someone looking out for me.”
I have learnt that I am still learning. I think that is the most important thing. You can think you understand everything, and then life shows you something new. So I stay open. I stay curious. That is where I am right now
I ask how she defines her sound. “I am myself in the studio,” she says.
“I listen to that inner voice. When I hear a beat, it tells me what to do. It says, ‘Say this, try this, go deeper here.’ The songs that come from that place, the freestyles, those are the songs people love the most. When I overthink, it does not land in the same way.
“My voice is playful and childlike, but it also wants to go deep. It has humour, it has feeling, it wants to tell stories. That comes from how I was in school. I loved writing essays, telling stories, and describing things in my own way. Now I do the same with music. I can look at a situation and tell a story in a way that connects.”
We speak about inspiration, and she calls out DJ Maphorisa.
”He encourages you to be real in the studio,” she says. “If you start thinking too much or trying to impress people, he will stop you. He will say this is not art anymore. I respect that because it reminds you to trust yourself.”
When the conversation turns to South Africa, she becomes more deliberate. “I would advocate for confidence in young people,” she says.
“It starts with parents. The way you are raised shapes how you make decisions later. If you grow up without being told your worth, you can accept situations that are not good for you because you think they are opportunities. If you are raised with confidence, you can say no. You can choose differently. So I would say to parents, try your best to build that in your children. It can save them from so much.”
As the afternoon draws to a close, I ask her what she has learnt so far.
“I have learnt that I am still learning,” she says. “I think that is the most important thing. You can think you understand everything, and then life shows you something new. So I stay open. I stay curious. That is where I am right now.”
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