Macufe the Return: From Top-flight Festival to Landing on a Busy Runway

The reimagined Macufe must be a real cultural festival if it wants audiences to take it back, writes Ace Moloi.
Mangaung’s lost and found cultural jewel, Macufe, is scheduled for a comeback this year. The prodigal festival, which went off the radar during its top-flight season some three years ago, now returns to land on a busy runway of new lifestyle concepts.
Cultural Urban Festival Africa, or just Cufa, is preparing for its second edition, alongside Kenworth Group’s Lemo Fest. The newly conceptualised giant festivals will still go pound for pound in 2025 as they did in 2024, generating exciting options for festivalgoers, wider opportunities for artists, and increased activity in the city. Of course, some voices have grilled the two festival organisers, Ben Moseme of C-Squared Consumer Connectedness and Kenworth Group’s Freddy Kenny, arguing that the ‘steaks’ are too high for any alleged ‘beef’. However, there’s missing evidence – empirical or even anecdotal – to suggest that two or more big events happening at the same time equals division of the market.
The other view, which I’m on the side of, calls this phenomenon a multiplication of consumers, believing that free market principles will favour buyers in terms of ticket pricing, competitive lineups, vendors, alcohol prices and options, sound quality, facilities and more.
About 150km northeast of the city once of roses, the Matjhabeng Summer Blow (MSB) portfolio is enjoying aggressive growth. For the past five years, its soul, dance and fitness shows have pulled thousands of people in combined footfall, coupled with a strong digital footprint. MSB’s rise to the commanding heights of the industry – in the broader scheme of things – makes for a glimmering story of resilience, creativity and community-driven entrepreneurship. With an estimated average expenditure of R2 million per show, inclusive of artist fees, sound, stage and related costs, it’s no shock that MSB has managed to deliver hundreds of Blow jobs, keeping audiences coming each year.
Macufe the return, Baba!
Now with the government bringing back our lost lover, Free State will hopefully live up to its key tourism messaging of “a province to go to and not through.” Running from 3 – 7 September 2025, the relaunched Macufe will spotlight musical theatre, film screenings, poetry and comedy, visual storytelling, literature, live theatre, dance and music. This reimagined offering is aimed at reconnecting audiences to their “African heart and soul”, according to the MEC Zanele Sifuba, adding that the focus will be on “culture, heritage and tradition”.
As the only authoritative arts journalism platform in the province, Art State has consistently cautioned against the turning of Macufe into a music bash. In our 2017 special Macufe coverage, publisher and art critic, Mpho Matsitle, wrote that Macufe was “slowly but surely losing its ‘cultural festival’ impetus…becoming at best a week-long popular music festival, and at worst an uninhibited binging affair”. Nonetheless, with all its imperfections, Macufe’s economic impact remains unrivalled. In a 2016 study, it was reported that the festival pulled over 25 000 people who purchased more than 40 000 tickets, resulting in about R37 million in net visitor spending. That year’s economic impact also hit a mighty R103,4 million.
Despite this, Free State artists maintain that the festival was only enriching visiting artists more, and have been calling for the recalibrated version to prioritise local talent.
Re ya kasi!
I’m a certified hater of the ideological concept of the township. I was, therefore, rather pessimistic when Lemo Fest started its #ReYaKasi campaign. As a believer in Biko’s black consciousness, I have always rejected townships as concentration camps for unending Black suffering. So, why “re ya kasi” instead of ho tswa kasi? I mean, it’s Simphiwe Dana who chanted “sizophuma elokishini.”
With my issues, I had to attend Lemo Fest in 2024 as a guest husband during my wife’s performance (hint: if you book her, you might get a free writeup). Being at the Lemo Green Park for the first time opened my eyes to the strategic beauty of the festival precinct. For the 2024 edition alone, the festival took a whopping R80 million capital expenditure to put together. In a virtual press briefing, the festival revealed plans to unveil its renovated backstage facilities. This move will greatly improve artists’ experience of the space, making room for them to unwind after performing, dig into their hospitality riders, give interviews without interference, and more.
Such a vibe is vital in positioning our province for major events, treating visiting creative teams to world-class standards and exposing up-and-coming talent to new heights. The last point is instrumental, as it reminds us that proper artistic development is not just about being placed on a big stage, but also being introduced to professional ways of doing things behind the scenes. I admit, this is too much to pin on one festival. But since its launch, Lemo Fest has framed itself as the new face of our cultural economy. As it built revolutionary facilities, it was also constructing a brand of hope for residents of the township around it, who daily need its optical illusion to contrast the wretchedness of their surroundings.
Rea Cufasela!
This year presents Cufa with an opportunity to cement its brand in the minds of consumers, following last year’s widely reported teething problems that left a number of patrons seething. As the organisers look to turn things around, they have gone one step ahead in proactively announcing their programming, so that their competition looks reactive.
Online, the festival now has an engaging voice with regular content. Even though the youthful brand tone of their direct competition is still compelling, this is a big improvement from the previous year. By now, marketing students should be drafting research proposals about how the two festivals leverage digital marketing strategies to optimise sales and brand awareness.
The festival has retained the SABC’s Lesedi FM as a media partner, with activations already happening on air. In 2024 at its launch, it also had adult contemporary station, Radio 2000, broadcasting its breakfast show live at Naval Hill in Mangaung.
To their biggest advantage, Cufa’s curators are actually highly experienced in live entertainment, having produced Macufe for many of its prosperous years. They also have a unique understanding of local audiences. The festival enjoys the support of Macufe loyalists, and its programming is tailored for such sentimentality. For example, the inclusion of #WomanToWoman in the festival’s artistic programming targets the profitable divas market. The lineup itself is familiar, promising heritage, stability and relived memories.
As a guest husband at this year’s Cufa Global Stage where wifey will be performing, I’m looking forward to the festival’s atmosphere (here’s that hint again).
The myth of locality
Festival season in the Free State is a jungle. If people aren’t spamming festival pages with requests for their artist friends to be added to the lineup, the artists themselves are taking promoters on for alleged gatekeeping. At the centre of it all are misconceptions of what it means to be a local talent. But being local is not the same as struggling. And local artists shouldn’t be seen, or present themselves, as the homeless of the industry.
It’s helpful to grasp the fact that – for example – Mawhoo is KZN’s “local” artist, and that Nathi and Amanda Black are among the Eastern Cape’s local pride. So, a Free State lineup that has Presss or Tshegu must also be seen as empowering local artists. This is important even in how promoters treat whoever they consider local, compared to visiting ones. Once organisers view locality as struggle, they will refuse to pay local artists their worth, and subject them to poor performing conditions without decent soundcheck, and rush them off stage to accommodate national artists, and not fulfil their riders.
So, as the debate rages about Cufa, Macufe and Lemo Fest’s booking of local artists, the question should be, “Who exactly is a local artist?” Even the guy who has never received R1 from SAMRO for releasing original music?
Bingeworthy or binging affair?
As Macufe knocks on our hearts to plead for a love-back, it faces an unprecedented reality. Like an athletic baby daddy who returns to find out that ‘ba e hapile le namane’, the festival now has to co-parent local audiences. But, with good intentions, this is a profound moment to rethink Macufe’s value offering and arrive at a much needed understanding of what an arts festival is actually supposed to be.
What should be done differently this time around? Firstly, government should hire an experienced festival director, issue callouts each year for applications, establish an independent adjudication panel, maybe create a fringe programme for developing artists, and consider having more than one stage at the same time. This process can co-exist with booking crowd-pullers for each show.
In the final analysis, it is incredibly good news that the prodigal Mangaung African Cultural Festival is coming back home, with all its desired socioeconomic and sociocultural benefits. Sadly, young people’s hearts will be broken when they learn that rented cars with GP registrations dropped their partners off at res. But heartbreak is a small glitch in Macufe’s otherwise well-oiled demand and supply stock exchange. And, as has been the case over the years, sales for morning-after pills will get a significant boost, as will profits for condoms, lubricants, abortion, and divorce lawyering.
What do you, a resident of Mangaung, think about the addition of more festivals on our calendar? Talk to us in the comments section below.
Ace Moloi is a Jo’burg-based marketing and communications practitioner with interests in brands, broadcasting, literature and the arts.