MUSIC

What Lekompo Is, and Why It Matters Now

A guide to the sound rising out of Limpopo’s worker compounds and taverns, reshaping stages, identity, and youth culture across Southern Africa.

A screenshot of Kharishma from the “Chokeslem” video. Her face is showered in red light, and she wears a black leather hat.
Kharishma is one of the leading lights of the rapidly growing lekompo genre.

Over the past two years, buoyed by the outsized reach of artists like Makhadzi, Kharishma, and Shebeshxt, a genre known as lekompo has overtaken taxi playlists, club dance floors, and increasingly found its way onto major stages across Southern Africa. The term is the singular form of makompo, which originally referred to people living in worker compounds, particularly in the farming belts of Limpopo and Mpumalanga. Conditions in these compounds are often overcrowded and under-resourced, and makompo have long been stereotyped as vulgar, unkempt, and uneducated. This socio-economic backdrop continues to shape public perceptions of both the genre and the communities that claim it.

The modern sound of lekompo draws heavily from bolo house — the fast-paced, synth-led style associated with artists like King Monada and Wantiwa Mos (formerly Master KG) — as well as tsa manyalo, the celebratory wedding music popular across Limpopo and championed by Pleasure Tsa Manyalo and Metrobeatz RSA. It also incorporates elements of Shangaan electro, popularized by the eccentric artist and businessman Nozinja. The result is a dizzying blend: bright, piercing synths that nod to hard electro; log drums borrowed from the Amapiano playbook; and a steady, rickety rhythm that makes dancing feel less like a choice and more like an instinctual response.

Before the current wave tightened its grip on the public, figures like DJ Lenzo and DJ Spanza Man were already shaping the template. They produced heaters that set the tone for how lekompo producers now approach rhythm, synth textures, and vocal delivery. Key tracks from that formative period include DJ Lenzo’s “Pelo Ya Ka” (2020), which deliberately sought a midpoint between bolo house and Amapiano, and DJ Call Me’s 2017 hit “Mama I’m Sorry,” which reworked Brenda Fassie’s classic into a fast-paced tavern anthem. This approach echoed what DJ Mujava achieved more than a decade earlier, when he fused township rhythm structures with electronic sensibilities to create the bacardi house blueprint.

“Swanda Ntha,” is a certified star of the movement. She is also an emblem of resilience, having overcome unreliable management, body shaming, and the prejudice often faced by artists from rural backgrounds. Her One Woman Show last year cemented her as a force to be reckoned with.

Kharishma is another powerhouse reshaping the landscape. When she released “Chokeselem” in 2024, produced with Ba Bethe Gashoazen, it marked a shift in how the genre is understood. The track confronts gender-based violence head-on, telling the story of a woman who has endured abuse and finally reaches a breaking point. Her voice is commanding and unflinching, channeling trauma shared by many women. The song became one of the year’s biggest hits, laying the foundation for the remarkable run she is currently enjoying.

Shebeshxt: Folk Hero and Flawed Icon

Ba Bethe Gashoazen spoke to OkayAfrica about the song’s genesis: “We were at the club, Kharishma and I, and people were busy dancing. Some were gesturing toward fellow dancers’ necks with their hands. Kharishma started laughing because the way they did it was funny. She said, ‘Look at them, holding each other in a choke slam.’ That’s when she came up with the idea of turning it into a song. We went to the studio right there and then, and that’s how it happened. I produced it from scratch, and the session took about an hour,” he says.

Ba Bethe Gashoazen became the first artist from the scene to sign a distribution deal with a major label when he joined Sony Music South Africa earlier this year. He has produced a large portion of Kharishma’s hits and has also worked with Makhadzi, whom he cites as a major inspiration. “Lekompo has been around even when Amapiano was blowing up. It’s just that people didn’t take it seriously. We focused on making it big,” he tells us.

Shebeshxt’s release from prison in late 2023, after facing charges including assault, attempted murder, and malicious damage to property, became a defining cultural moment that cemented him as a central figure in the lekompo movement. The tatted, topless rapper is widely regarded as someone who embodies the ethos of makompo – a raw, unfiltered presence who inspires a generation of young people who see him as a folk hero.

But underneath the hits and cult-classic performances lies a darker story. In June 2024, he was involved in a car accident near Polokwane that claimed the life of his daughter, Onalerona, and left him with serious injuries, including fractures that required prolonged recovery. Two weeks ago, he was accused of shooting and critically injuring a motorist in an alleged road-rage incident. He has also been filmed appearing to assault a fan with a knife — which his lawyer later claimed was a prop — and appearing on live video holding what looked like a glass pipe, prompting allegations of crystal meth use.

The Lekompo Ecosystem

It’s understandable why parents remain wary of their children being immersed in this scene. It’s not just the music; it’s the fashion as well. Makompo — the followers of this music — are known for their near-religious devotion to everything Nike.

Lekompo flips society’s understanding of vulgarity on its head. It’s a space for honest creative expression, where bluntness and frankness are often misconstrued as shock value. It reflects life as it is lived and spoken in the villages, taverns, taxi ranks, and yards that shape South Africa’s cultural rhythm. The music collapses the divide between the sacred and the profane; between what we’re told to hide and what we celebrate openly. At its core, lekompo is about claiming the right to sound, to speak, and to exist unapologetically. And that’s why it’s the perfect gateway for a youth seeking to rebel, because the very act of rebellion requires that one disregard societal constructs. 

Part of the genre’s acceleration comes from the way the music circulates. Tracks often break first through snippets that then become challenges on TikTok and YouTube shorts, then migrate to streaming services as well as Facebook and WhatsApp groups dedicated to unearthing the latest hits. It’s an ecosystem sustained by an unending need for newness and an unquenchable desire to outdo the last song. 

Producers such as Ba Bethe Gashoazen, Buddy Sax, and Naqua SA, who work frequently with Shebeshxt, operate at the cutting edge where innovation is rewarded with virality and critical acclaim. Artists such as Shandesh, Janesh, Zoli White Smoke, Natiey Lepaka, Real K Mfanakota, and Tribby Wadi Bozza move at equal speed, creating ready-made bangers that exist in and outside of the mold of lekompo, collaborating frequently with artists such as Ntate Stunna, Sannere, and Enny Man Da Guitar.