Since the passing of renowned journalist Tshidi Madia, I have been bitterly mourning the loss of such a prolific professional and incredible human being.
It led me to recall Ashby Peter Mda’s eulogy to Anton Muziwakhe Lembede in 1948, where he poignantly points out “It is not the tragedy of death that we lament, but the tragedy of life.
“We feel that death has been unkind. It nipped the bud in its first spring. Darkness descended at sunrise.”
The “nipping of the bud in spring” analogy brings me to tears. For 2025’s spring season is one Tshidi will not get to see, as we prepare for her funeral on Thursday.
Having admired, known, and come to love and deeply cherish this exceptional woman, I can conclude that she was the very embodiment of the spring season.
My sentiment is enhanced by her family’s request that at her funeral service, mourners honour her by wearing not the standard sombre colours — but dress according to the “Bold and Colourful” theme in tribute to Tshidi and her love of colour.
When Power FM (now Power 98.7) was launched in June 2013 and its inaugural cohort of current affairs anchors joined its soundwaves, few names embodied optimism, sharpness, and commitment quite like Tshidi Madia.
Tshidi and I were born in the same year (1983), and at 30 years of age, we joined a line-up where we were afforded the opportunity to have our names etched in that historical chapter (of the newly minted radio station) among media industry veterans.
From the moment we met, I sensed her bubbly energy — a magnetic blend of wit, warmth, and a formidable intellect that made every story she touched more vibrant, and more human.
Tshidi was more than a fixture behind the microphone. She was a fierce patriot, a journalist who wielded her voice in defence of her country’s sovereignty and dignity.
In an era when false narratives about “genocide” against white farmers circulated on global airwaves, Tshidi stood firm.
With calm resolve and unwavering facts, she dismantled the lies, not from a place of partisanship, but from journalistic conviction.
In doing so, she upheld the ideals of our profession: truth, fairness, and service to the public.
She strove for verifiable facts above headlines, context above theatrics, and service to citizens above sensationalism
Her passing reminds us how vital such steadfast journalists are, especially in SA’s post-democratic reality, where media actors are too easily painted as mouthpieces for political or personal agendas, rather than the watchers of power they are meant to be.
Tshidi’s life was itself a rebuke to that cynicism.
Tshidi cherished South African democracy but cherished truth more.
She strove for verifiable facts above headlines, context above theatrics, and service to citizens above sensationalism.
As press ombudsman Pippa Green reminded us, “Journalism’s first obligation is the truth. Its first loyalty is to the citizens”.
Tshidi exemplified that discipline of verification and that independence from power.
Veteran African journalists also speak to this timeless duty. Pius Njawé, of Cameroon, famously said, “A word can be more powerful than a weapon... No-one will silence me, except the Lord, before I achieve what I consider as a mission” .
That was Tshidi — unyielding, mission-driven, never dulled by the threats of sensationalism or silencing.
In his speech urging his peers to “start a revolution,” investigative journalist Mzilikazi wa Afrika warned that “journalists are under siege ... we have become our own worst enemies ... because we want to make a living instead of making a difference”.
Tshidi, in contrast, always made a difference. She never chose comfort over conviction, or salary over substance.
When I think of her laughter behind the desk, that quicksilver intellect lighting up the conversation, I’m reminded that journalism — at its best — is human first.
In the often noisy landscape of SA media — where truth can get drowned by agendas or vanity — Tshidi was clarity.
She treated citizens as equals deserving of facts, not sound bites.
This tribute therefore is also a call — a reminder that Tshidi’s legacy must endure by inspiring journalists today and tomorrow to reclaim that original calling of the Fourth Estate.
To serve, scrutinise, inform — and to be loyal not to power, but to people.
To Tshidi Madia, I say thank you for every question asked without fear, every truth unearthed with integrity, and every moment when you held space for our democracy rather than political convenience.
You brought honour to journalism at a moment it sorely needs such honour.
We mourn not only Tshidi’s passing, but her life whose impact, had it been longer, would have undoubtedly proved that journalism truly is a calling to serve the people and not a mere career choice.
We’ve not only been robbed of her life — we are now a nation left bereft without an impassioned and important voice that without hesitation sought justice where injustice took place and demanded accountability where corruption occurred unabated.
Tshidi you were a bright bud, full of promise, your laughter, your passion, your brilliance already lighting the world around you. And yet, with your passing, darkness descended at sunrise.
But even as we mourn, we cannot forget the light you shared. Your courage, your curiosity, your fierce love for truth — it lingers in the hearts of everyone who knew you.
Winter may have not yielded timeously, but your spring lives on in us, in the stories we continue to tell, in the lives you touched, and in the memory of your incomparable spirit.
Your sunrise, Tshidi, continues, always.
Asanda Magaqa is a multi-award-winning journalist, broadcaster, producer and spokesperson for economic development, environmental affairs and tourism MEC Nonkqubela Pieters. She writes in her personal capacity.
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