Lusanda Zokufa is the smile and the bridge that welcomes a nation: 25 years at the Market Theatre

“My ambition when I was young was to play professional basketball and one day become one of the talented Harlem Globetrotters. Travel the world doing what I love best — after, of course, playing for South Africa and winning every cup there is to win.”

By Sandile Memela

If you have ever walked through the doors of The Market Theatre, you have seen or met her. Even if you don’t know her name.

She is the smile at the entrance. The dark complexioned angel that radiates light. The calm voice on the phone. The person who remembers your seat, your child’s name, and that you prefer aisle two.

She is the bridge between the stage and the street, between the artists and the audience, between The Market and the world watching it.

Her name is Lusanda Zokufa. And for 28 years, she has been the face of this institution.

This year we celebrate not just a career, but a life lived in service to art, to people, and to a place that has shaped South African culture.

From volunteer to visionary: 2000 to 2026

Lusanda did not plan to end up here. Not exactly.

“I started working as a volunteer in 2000 and officially in November 2002,” she says.

Before that, she was a girl from Port Elizabeth — before it became Gqeberha — with big dreams and a basketball in her hands.

“My ambition when I was young was to play professional basketball and one day become one of the talented Harlem Globetrotters. Travel the world doing what I love best — after, of course, playing for South Africa and winning every cup there is to win. And yes, I didn’t know you had to be American to be part of the team.”

She came to Johannesburg fresh from Lawson Brown High School. She studied Marketing Management with IMM but dropped out after a year. Joburg was new, and she found herself hanging around the flat, even getting involved in the Yeoville Policing Forum, “literally walking at night guarding the streets of Yeoville.”

Then The Market called. Not with lights and celebrities. With people.

Regina Sebright asked her to come help with admin. To help Fundraiser Penny Morris call audiences for fundraising nights. For free, of course. Before Lusanda could answer, her mom had already signed her up.

Her mom is Busi Zokufa, who used to bring young Lusanda around the theatre when she was rehearsing. That’s how Lusanda met Siwe Hashe, Matjamela Motloung and Tale Motsepe.

“These guys were always happy, always walking with purpose and took time to explain things to me. I thought ‘kumnandi apha sana’ — look at me, 25 years later kusemnandi nangoku!”

From that volunteer desk, she climbed. Production Assistant Trainee. PA to the Managing Trustee. Audience Development Officer. Head Usher. Box Office Trainee. Reception Night Shift. Publicity Intern. Publicist. Senior Publicist. Interim Marketing Manager.

And since 1 September 2022: HOD Brand and Communications.

Twenty-eight years. No shortcuts. No scandals. Just work.

The job no one sees, but everyone feels

If you ask Lusanda what her job is, she will not give you a job description. She will give you a feeling.

“I love seeing everything we have worked so hard for come together on opening nights,” she says. “I love watching the audience enjoy the show for the first time. I love when people appreciate the talent that we work with every day.”

She also loves the hard parts. “Is it strange that I also enjoy the bad times? I appreciate the lessons we learn when we have tried to do a project and people don’t resonate with it. That engagement is priceless. It’s heartbreaking, but it’s a tough lesson to learn.”

That is Lusanda. She does not run from difficulty. She leans in.

Her days are about order and people and process. “I love working with people. I love processes. I love order. I love having goals to achieve. I love being guided by the laws of the country.”

People don’t know this about her: she loves politics. Her hopes for growth are big. “Somewhere between being Mayor and Minister of Communications or Women and Children. I think I would do good for my people.”

But for now, her politics is practiced here. In how she treats a nervous first-time patron. In how she handles a difficult VVIP.

“They are my favourite,” she laughs. “When there is a difficult anyone, I am the person to call. I kill them with kindness. My granny taught me that. You disarm someone when you approach with genuine respect, not pretence, and offer a solution for their dilemma. I love and thrive under those circumstances.”

That’s the Lusanda people know. The one who makes everyone feel important.

The bridge

The Market Theatre does not exist in a vacuum. It exists in conversation — with patrons, with media, with government, with artists, with the community.

Lusanda is that conversation.

She is the bridge. Between the stage director or actor and the newspaper. Between the usher and the board. Between a student group with no budget and a show that needs to be full.

And she does it with qualities that cannot be taught: creative thinking, the ability to think on her feet, being solution-based, listening, not being scared to try new things, being organized and relentless.

The challenges are real. “Empty seats. No students for courses. Egos. My word, my worst: everyone knows how to do marketing, especially with social media. Everyone is a marketer or everyone studied Marketing 101. And people who think theatre is niche.”

But she keeps showing up. Because The Market matters.

“Where do I begin? A space of culture and community. A site of defiance and social change. We are so blessed. We are also a living archive. This incredibly awesome institution serves as a moral voice that related the horrors of apartheid and celebrated the resilience of the people, making it a symbol of truth, transformation, and the power of art to challenge injustice. Hmmm, what an honour.”

Rooted in people

Lusanda was raised by a village. Her granny Vuyiswa Doreen Zokufa. Her late aunty Musa Zokufa. Her uncles Yolisa, Mkhuseli — who is late — Mkhululi and Wezile. Her mom came to Joburg when Lusanda was about 2 to “find gold.” Her dad passed away. Her mom, “MomZie,” is 70 now and Lusanda’s best friend.

“I hope I am half the mom she is to my kids,” she says.

She also lost her brother Thanduxolo. But he left her a gift: his son Tsepo, who taught her to be a mom. Tsepo is now an awesome big brother to Mkhuseli.

Home, for Lusanda, is not a place on a map. “Home is a feeling. Where my family, my partner and my children are.”

And Joburg friends? Almost all of them she met at The Market.

“Wait, is that a good thing? Does that mean I am always here?” she jokes. “But I owe this place more than just an amazing opportunity. I have some of the best chomies any girl can ask for.”

The quiet leader

What makes Lusanda extraordinary is what she does not do. In 28 years, she has been associated with no scandal. In an industry where egos flare and politics can get messy, she has remained steady.

She is trusted to make decisions on site at events when she is the most senior person. “The Market Theatre Foundation trusts me to make decisions that will not bring the organisation into disrepute.”

She can solve problems in her department. But more than that, she solves people.

Her motto: “Respect everyone and treat them with kindness.” That is how she welcomes VVIPs. That is how she welcomes everyone.

She admits something that will surprise people who see her command a room: “I am probably the only marketer who doesn’t like talking in front of people or doing interviews.”

Yet she does it anyway. Because the work is bigger than the fear.



Simple. Human. Real.

What would make it easier?

You might expect her to ask for more budget, more staff, more seats filled.

Instead she says: “No one wants an easy job. What would drive me to come to work every day? What would keep me motivated to do better? Maybe people asking before making assumptions. In general, that would make working in the arts easier.”

That is the request of a woman who has spent 28 years assuming the best of people, and asking that they do the same for her, for the artists, for the art.

25 years later

Lusanda’s story is The Market’s story.

She arrived as a volunteer in 2000, when the country was still finding its post-apartheid feet. She stayed through funding crises, through political shifts, through a pandemic that emptied theatres. She stayed because she believes in what this place is: truth, transformation, community.

She is not a celebrity. She is not on the poster. But she is the reason the poster gets seen. She is the reason the audience feels welcome. She is the reason a difficult night becomes a good one.

Acting Head: Branding & Communications is her title. But her real job has always been the same: to make people feel seen.

To the patrons: she is the smile.
To the media: she is the bridge.
To the artists: she is the person who facilitates that interview.
To the staff: she is the one who solves it.
To The Market: she is home.

Twenty-eight years. From calling fundraising audiences for free to leading the brand of one of South Africa’s most important cultural institutions.

Lusanda, we see you. We thank you.

And on every opening night, when the lights go down and the audience leans forward, know this: part of that magic is you.

Five things you did not know about Lusanda

Ask her for five things people don’t know and she gives you Lusanda, unfiltered:

.She loves meat. Typical Xhosa woman.
. She cries at romantic movies. Even adverts.
. She doesn’t have a favourite color.
. If she came back, she’d want to be a CSI agent.
. She doesn’t like archaar.