Spiritual hustle of Young Stunna

For the singer, making music is about finding the rhythm in chaos, love, respect and home

- Lesego Chepape

In a time when algorithm-driven trends can snatch the spotlight, Young Stunna is a refreshing blend of street-bred honesty, spiritual grounding and artistic finesse.

His music doesn't beg to become viral. It doesn't chase gimmicks. Instead, it lingers. Like the taste of your mother's dombolo or an old hymn. It's music that stays. It carries the perfume of home, dusted with gold from the grind.

When Young Stunna, born Sandile Msimango, speaks, it's with the cadence of someone who's lived many lives in one, an East Rand prophet cloaked in tracksuits and township slang, his verses emerging from joy, pain, faith and youthful stubbornness.

The connection with Swayvee (Nigerian singer Ezekiel Georgewill), for instance, wasn't some boardroom strategy or a forced vibe. It was born of what his generation now calls digital divinity, Instagram DMs.

“It was casual,” he says, “but it got deep fast.”

The remix of Us was never done in a shared booth or with chest-thumping announcements. It was born in virtual silence but pulsed with a loud energy. Remote, yet not removed.

Why does Us sound different? Why does it hit you where your emotions are softest?

Young Stunna answers not with industry jargon, but with heart: “The song is about love, but I wanted to show how work takes us away from our people. I’m always busy, flying, recording, performing ... but the love never fades.”

There's a sadness and a celebration in that answer, a duality he navigates with the ease of someone raised in the paradox of township life. He knows what it means to not have enough, and still make space for joy.