Ntšepase Makara

29/04/2025

I'll light your way in the dark

Photographed by Sabali Shots

22/09/2024

Tattooed with melanine ❤️

Model - Refiloe Makhakhe
Photographer - Aluta Photography
Designer - Ntšepase Makara

02/09/2024

Hang the picture on the wall, share the piece with the world

(“ I am a painting
Splatters of oils and acrylics
Strokes of brushes
Hatches and scribbles mushed together
And I stand here on display for all to see and admire.” ) quote from my poem - I AM WOMAN.

02/09/2024

They say the flapping wings of a butterfly forms a tornado on the other side of the world.
That the smallest of actions impact our day to day life. There's beauty in reflection and understanding how our experiences are a result of the small mindless decisions we make. It's not always about that big decisions we get so consumed in.

Photographer - Polaki Samuel Lerata
Styled by me. 🫶🏾

23/05/2024

Restaurant

12/05/2024

We're on the lookout for talented poets and poetesses to join our agency! If you have a way with words and a passion for crafting beautiful verse, we want to hear from you. Send us samples of your work and let your poetry speak for itself. 🖋️📜

10/05/2024

The artistry in this is simply amazing

01/05/2024

I'm a closed book, at least that's what they say. Men who couldn't make sense of the madness. Friends who found scrunched up pieces of my story.
So, I've come to define myself as such. In retrospect I am fairly open, yes the words are tiny, writen in a long lost language, yes my pages are forever bathed in sunlight, yes you might go blind trying to read me. Yes you might loose your mind trying to decipher the words on my parables, trying to understand the mind I incase. Yes I don't quite know me either but that's because I too have forgotten the language on my skin.
Carved years ago, young me tried to save memories so I would never forget, when she noticed her life tales slipping she took a blade to the skin, a mark for each tale. But I don't understand, I can't comprehend the meaning behind.

Most of the words are smudged I can't make them out and those I can scare me. What did she go through, why did she forget? And do I want to remember? Those memories locked in a case hidden somewhere in my mind, do I want to find it? Give meaning to the scares that cover my skin, the scares I inflicted, the marks I made for art.

Can I built a time machine and ask her, does she still remember? Does she hate me for forgetting her face, her story, her life... Our life.

Does she hate me for locking her up?
Is it too late to bring her back or is she lost somewhere in the space time continuam far from my reach. Is she safe, from me the one person that betrayed her.

Or she finally dead.

By : Ntšepase Makara, I am.

23/04/2024

23/04/2024