Andile Yenana, The Piano Was Never His

There was a piano in the Yenana home in King William's Town that was never meant for Andile. It was bought for his older brother - his mother hoped music might ground a son she feared the Struggle would swallow. It didn't. What it did do was give Andile something to pick the lock of, quietly, with a pair of scissors, every time his brother left for his lessons.

Thirty years after we first met at the University of Natal, Andile Yenana - pianist, composer, band leader, educator - sat down with me to trace a life in music. From a party home in the '70s and '80s, with the aunt in the brunette wig whose month-long visits gave his first album its name, We Used to Dance. Through marimbas in a Catholic church, a reggae band in King William's Town, and the Friday nights at Gustav's that shaped a generation of South African jazz.

We talk about what it means to find your voice - and what Zim Ngqawana's wife said when he told her he'd found his. The night Bafana Bafana won the Africa Cup of Nations while he was crossing Johannesburg to fetch sheet music. A composition born on a boat moored off Tripoli. A payslip line item. And how Thembisa - a song he nearly didn't record - ended up sampled by J. Cole.

Also: why leaving Johannesburg might be the best decision he ever made, and what it means when your family is the music.