“…to this day, I’m still taken aback when people say they figured out their sexuality because of me, or came out because of me. It’s powerful. I’m humbled.” - Sade Giliberti.
CW: this interview contains mention of self harm, suicidal ideation and depression.
Sade Giliberti
Award-winning Presenter / Actor / MC / Content Producer / Model
Pronouns: She / Her
I was born in Isipingo, Durban, on 17 April 1985 to Thandeka Ignatius Ndimande and Germano Giliberti.
Is there a particular early childhood memory that sticks out for you?
I remember playing in the streets of Yeoville and Berea as a kid. Always running about and sneaking into buildings. I must have been about 4 years old. Crazy to think that we could do that back then.
I know you are an only child, and you’ve spoken about having multiple imaginary friends. Can you remember any of them- and what were some of your favourites games to play?
I’m sure they had names, can’t think now what they were. I also feel like they came about as I was playing. It wasn’t a case of, “This is Jane, she’s always here and you can’t sit there that’s Jane’s chair.” I didn’t have those kinds of imaginary friends. They just popped up while I was playing. My favourite game was pretending to be a ninja (I loved Bruce Lee), and saving the day. I’d fight trees with a stick and flick flack all over the backyard in my dancing shoes and black tights.
You also enjoyed the odd mulberry fight, right?
Oh my word, yes! Mulberry fights were the best - tasty, too. My mother wasn’t a fan though [laughs]; mulberries stain.
I also read in an interview that you described your early upbringing as a “three-way childhood”: the career, the childhood and “the other side”. The latter is in reference to your mother’s volatile lifestyle, which resulted in you suffering insomnia and depression. What did you experience and how did you process all of that as a child?
You asked about my first early childhood memory earlier on. To be honest, running around in the streets is only one half.
My actual first memory is actually a sad one for me. A first memory no child should have. Again, about 3/4 years old, I think. I had a friend over and we were playing in my room and the separation between my room and my parents room was a glass window - so weird. I remember we were laughing at what we saw and started mimicking the actions. My mom was on the bed with a man on top of her. He pulled down his pants and soon heard us giggling. Then got up, walked towards the window and drew the curtains closed. After some time, my friend went home, and so did my mom’s ‘friend’. She then sat me down and said that what I saw was adult things and that I shouldn’t tell my father. Little did I know that that would be the beginning of many things I was yet to see and experience in my young life. My mom continued being all over the place: drinking, partying, being promiscuous and not shy of doing any of this while I was around. I mean, she would obviously go behind closed doors with her boyfriends, but still. I was there and I always knew what was going on. The fact that I was a working child was my salvation, to be honest. My mom lived this double life. She was all straight edge when my father was around - he worked away on site for a powerlines company, travelling all over the country and neighbouring countries, and only ever came home every second weekend. So she had all this ‘freedom’.
It’s weird because I spent so long harbouring all this angst towards her. Yet she wasn’t all doom and gloom. She had great moments, we shared a lot of laughs and good moments together. Plus, she got me into modelling when I was 3 years old, and really pushed for my career even from that young age. I’ll always have her to thank for the progression in my career. Someone saw something in me even at a young age and she went with it. Story goes- it was the likes of Brenda Fassie, Yvonne Chaka Chaka and Ray Phiri who persuaded her into getting me into the industry. But I still have no clue how true any of this is.
Anyway I digress. Her lifestyle wasn’t easy to process at all and really messed me up as a kid. I was overtaken by my feels, depressed by the age of 7, confused by what was happening around me, suffering with insomnia by the time I was 12. All of this I kept to myself though. I wrote a lot, drew, kept myself busy and, of course, worked. I engulfed myself in my studies (which wasn’t always easy when she was having a mid-week-get-together with her friends). I’d try to stay over at friends’ houses as often as I could - my father hated the idea of me staying over at other people’s homes, but I could do it more when he was away. I also started meditating when I was a child - except I didn’t know that’s what I was doing. I would sit still and take myself to a ‘white room’, where I pictured myself sitting in the middle of this bare white room, safe and at peace. Honestly, my spirit guides got me through a lot of the tumultuous times. Something I only realised when I was a lot older.
You’ve also spoken about how confused the other children were when your mother fetched you from school because they were so shocked to find out your mother was Black, if I am not mistaken.
Yes, this is true. It was the 90s after all. Many children thought she was my domestic worker coming to fetch me from school.
But even through all that, you still managed to pursue a career in the entertainment and modelling industries. Your first gig was “On the Rock”, a Christian children’s show, when you were just 7 years old. What do you remember about being a part of that show?
I remember how much fun it was. I don’t remember how I got the job. But I remember I worked with a little boy named Cato and an older girl named Tina. Most of everything we did was studio-based at the SABC. The show was only 5 minutes long, and no one remembers it. It showed at 14.55 just before Mini TV started on TV1, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Friday was music day, so we would showcase Christian bands, and I remember MIC being a fave at the time - they were a dance/pop boy band and we always had them in the studio with us.
Just a few years later, when you were around 10 years old, you landed the YoTV gig. What’s something about that audition process that many people may not know?
I went to that audition after school, in my school uniform. I remember calling my mom from the ticky box at school, to tell her that I was going to spend the afternoon at school with the aftercare kids and come home later and she was like, “No, I’m coming to fetch you now, you have a YoTV audition this afternoon”. It was so weird because I remembered going for a KTV audition not long before that day and now all of a sudden I had a YoTV audition. I remember being at Urban Brew Studios and being given this long monologue script that I had to learn. The audition was filmed on green screen and I remember being so nervous about the whole thing. I’ve always been a fast talker, and man did I speed through that monologue. The production assistant at the time kept trying to calm me down. Mandisa [Nakana] was also there that day, in her school uniform as well. We both got the job on the spot - well there was a long wait, but we got the job the same day, and were then given a tour of the studio.
It’s not an exaggeration to say you became one of the most famous children/ teenagers in South Africa- when did it sink in that so many eyes were on you, and what kind of pressure came with that?
I think the first time it sank in must have been after our 2nd year at The Rand Easter Show. We were swarmed by children and even adults. They were tugging at us and screaming, it was honestly such a scary and intense feeling. Thereafter, we needed to have security/bodyguards with us at every roadshow that we did. So extra! But it was needed. The popularity just got more and more heightened as the years went on. We once had the army escort us out of a mall in Welkom because people were losing their minds. We caused a mini stampede. It was hectic!
I think the hardest part was being a young adolescent just trying to get through the hormonal phase of becoming a teenager and doing all the stupid things teenagers do. We kept being told that we were role models to other kids so needed to behave in a certain way - but we were also just kids, regardless of being famous. We had to make sure we were always friendly, so having a moody bad day was almost not allowed, which is hard in general, never mind when you’re a teenager. We also needed to be careful with where we went, and who saw us. I once ended up in some publication when I was 18 years old for being in a pub. Some mom was not happy about seeing the YoTV girl there and wrote in to “You” magazine. Something about underage drinking and how disgusting it was that I was a kids presenter blah blah blah… They didn’t mention my name - because she didn’t know it - no one knew how to say or spell my name, so that helped [laughs]. But I knew it was about me. For a long time people never saw us as growing teenagers and adults, we were always the 12, 13, 16 year- olds they saw on tv. So they could never fathom that we were in places and of age. I used to get questioned when I drove my car or went to a bottle store - people being like, but you’re not of age, you’re on YoTV, why are you here? Are you even legal to drive? Like… boring… But I also get it, or at least I do now. We immortalise moments and for so many we were a part of their youth. Even the adults. Many Uni (Varsity) students used to watch us when we were tweens, and they were in their early 20s - so we will always be the “crazy little kids” to them.
To this day, I will see a tweet or something from someone saying that you were their queer sexual awakening during that time. Of course, you were still figuring out your sexuality and identity, but doing it under such a big spotlight. How did you navigate that?
I was just me being me, to be honest. I didn’t realise that just by being myself I was being a queer sexual awakening for someone else. I was just this tomboy kid on TV. I didn’t have anyone be my queer sexual awakening, so it didn’t occur to me that I was even doing anything at all. I went through a phase where I loved wearing my father’s shirts, so I started doing that on TV. And I remember Mandisa telling me once that I had started a trend in Pretoria, where young girls (I’m assuming queer) were starting to wear men’s shirts and dyed their hair like mine. I laughed it off and was like “that’s cool, but also a little weird” [laughs]! It’s honestly incredible that I was able to be that for so many young queer people. I started hearing it more and more the older I got, and throughout the whole community - from gays to lesbians, to trans people. And to this day, I’m still taken aback when people say they figured out their sexuality because of me, or came out because of me. It’s powerful. I’m humbled.
I was once at the Pink Loerie Festival in Knysna and this guy straight up told me that I confused many gay boys in the sense that they didn’t know if they wanted to be me or fuck me, even though they knew I was a lesbian. I died with laughter. That statement confused me so much.
You’ve also spoken about your mother leaving when you were 16. How would you describe your relationship with her up until that point?
Confusing and exhausting. We had many great moments as I mentioned earlier. She was that cool mom that everyone loved, that I obviously thought was slightly embarrassing. Everyone loved my mom. She was young and had such a vibe. She also gave me a lot of freedom, and I realised afterwards or maybe it’s something I told myself; that she was keeping me sweet so it kept the peace a bit. We fought a lot. I hated her lifestyle. I hated her lies, and the fact that she would disappear at night and sneak back into the house the next morning just as I ‘woke up’ for school (read: never slept). It wasn’t easy. She really used to piss me off. Many times she promised to stop with her nonsense, and it would last about 6 months if that, and she’d be back at it again. I don’t think she was ever truly happy, she couldn’t have been. And sometimes I wish that she had left earlier and not so late in my life. But, I’m also accepting and grateful for all of it, because everything I have been through, seen, dealt with, overcome, and suffered with, has made the person I am today. I’m stronger because of her, but I’ve also been fucked up because of her, and that has allowed me to work through so many of my traumas. And, I’m still doing the work. I’m constantly working towards being a better, healthier, happier, more peaceful, more loving, more compassionate version of myself.
Was doing YoTV, with the high energy and overt positivity, during everything that was going on in your life a much-needed escape? Or did you find that switching on and acting in a specific way was adding another complicated layer to your life?
I wasn’t acting. That was me. High energy, bubbly, overtly positive. That’s who I am and more so, that’s what the camera brings out in me. Being in front of the camera is my happy place. Whether I’m presenting or acting, that’s my solace. Always will be. Actually being on set in general is my jam, even working in production ignites a fire in me.
Let me put it this way, when I’m alone I’m quiet, reserved, and chilled. Maybe many people are also like this, I think. But when I am on camera and around people, I’m loud, energetic, and bubbly. I’ve always been this way. Not quite sure how to explain it.
At that time, being on set was always an escape. Especially before we started going live. We used to do pre-records on the weekends 7am - 5pm Saturdays and Sundays - this did suck sometimes because as a kid you want to go to birthday parties etc. or I wanted to hang out with my dad. After school, we’d film pre-records from 3pm - 7pm. Then we’d go off and do national roadshows, so there was a lot of escaping from my personal home life.
Towards the end of your time with YoTV, you started working on the production side of things (script writing, producing and production management etc) for the show- how did that change your perspective on the industry as a whole?
It really didn’t change anything actually, it just made me love it even more. It showed me what truly happens behind the scenes, in the offices, before we got to the studio. Some people just want to be on camera - I have always taken a liking to the other side, too. I’ve always believed that you only truly appreciate all that goes into a show when you know all the paths it took to get there. We were lucky on YoTV, our director always wanted us to understand the process. Right from the beginning he would have us filming each other's links. One of us would be the cameraman while the other did their lines, then we’d swap and one of us would be in the sound booth while the others did their links, and then we’d swap again and he’d have us in the control room. So from the beginning he introduced the whole studio process to us, and made us all aware of how it came together and what each person’s role was. It was a no- brainer for me to get into the production side of things, and I’m lucky that I got to do it when I was 19 years old.
Post- YoTV, your career didn’t slow down at all, with a presenting gig for So You Think You Can Dance and acting roles in Thetha Msawawa and Hard Copy. I’m sure presenting was second nature at that point, but did you have any reservations about venturing into acting?
Thetha Msawawa was my first acting gig. I was still on YoTV when I did that. I was just about to turn 18 years old. I’d gone to a few castings throughout my childhood but never got the roles, until this one. And weirdly enough I never had any reservations, I was just like. “Yeah, I’m going to do this”! Secretly, I always wanted to be an actor, even though I never went to a drama school or studied it.
I remember reading so many articles in which “insiders” were speculating about your sexuality. You’ve spoken about coming out privately to friends when you were 18, but you were publicly outed by a publication when you were 24, right? Firstly- fuck them! And secondly, what did it feel like to have something that important taken away from you?
I’ve had two important moments in my life taken away from me and in all honesty I spent such a long time being so angry about both, and what a fucking waste of energy, actually. I was crazy pissed off about that stupid article because I thought so much was at risk at the time. So You Think You Can Dance was my big comeback after a year of being off screen, it was also a huge show and step in my career. After that article I was called in to have a meeting with Nigel Lythgoe the co-creator of the show. I shat myself because I knew it had to do with the article, and this was my father’s worry about “coming out” and more so this specific article - that it would ruin my career. Thankfully it didn’t and in the end all Nigel said was, “Listen, I don’t care about your sexuality, but try and keep your personal life out of the papers”. I of course explained that those questions and answers were not a part of the interview and were added in later, and again he reminded me what sharks journalists were and to always keep my wits about me when chatting to them. That aside, I hated that someone took that away from me. I was meant to stand on my own soapbox and publicly come out to South Africa, but instead they read some fabricated Q&A in a magazine. That just wouldn’t fly today.
Second one, because I know you’re going to ask, was winning the first ever Presenter Award at the SAFTAs. I never knew I was nominated, apparently my invite got sent to an incorrect email address and no one ever decided to follow up, or find any other way to contact me. I’m still fucking baffled by this, because I’m quite certain that the email would have bounced. Anyway, I was filming a pilot in Hillbrow and my phone was blowing up, message after message, after missed call. I was like “Wtf man…” Only to see that I had just won ‘Best Presenter in a Variety Show’ for SYTYCD - this was in 2010. The first-ever Presenter Award at the SAFTAs and I won it, and worst of all, I wasn’t even there to receive it. Actually, I knew nothing about it. The most prestigious award in the whole of the South African TV and Film Industry and some twat didn’t even bother to follow up on my invite and took that moment away from me. I mean obviously I was over the moon about the award, but also livid at the same time at the incompetence of the whole thing. Anyhoo… I have a golden horn and I’m still well-chuffed about that!
You have also been very vocal about your depression and suicide attempts ( I think I read that you first self-harmed with a butter knife when you were around 8 years old?), and you remain a very visible advocate for mental health awareness and suicide prevention. Why do you think so many stigmas are still attached to these issues?
It’s crazy for me to even say this, but it’s down to a lack of education. It’s down to having one idea about mental health illnesses and that’s it. Many cultures still don’t talk about it, have a word for it and see it as something else completely - a debilitating sickness, even. And depending on the illness, some can be, like schizophrenia for example. But the spectrum is rather large, and we are living in a world where mental health awareness is way more prevalent than ever before.
We are slowly starting to see a change though: more and more people are speaking openly about mental health and telling their personal stories. More famous people are coming out and sharing their personal journeys with depression. We’ve also sadly seen many famous people take their lives due to suffering from depression. So the conversations are being had, the buzz is happening and people are realising so much more about mental health awareness. Yet, it will always boil down to education. We don’t all have the same issues, or suffer with depression because of the same reasons. Some of us have similar stories yes, but we aren’t all exactly the same. We as people need to stop putting everything into a damn box. We like to compartmentalise things so we can better understand them, but not everything fits into one column, or one box. Once we expand our understanding, and open ourselves up to the education, only then can we start stripping away at the stigmas that taint our societies.
Seeking professional help for mental health isn’t always affordable and accessible- especially in South Africa- so what would you say to anyone who wants help, but feels like it’s out of their reach?
It’s never out of their reach. Never. People need to know that they are not alone. I worked closely with SADAG - The South African Anxiety and Depression Group when I lived in SA, and they are incredible. They have many helplines and a WhatsApp number. They’ll even call you back if you leave a message. They are on Facebook, on Twitter and often have online chats and discussions. When it comes to accessibility, SADAG is who you contact.
How has this idea of creating something outside of yourself but still representative of yourself- whether through photography or any other content creation- helped you make sense of life?
Any sort of creation and expression will always equal freedom to me. We find out more about ourselves as we create. We open ourselves up to the unknown - because not all creation is knowing what you are doing all the time, sometimes not knowing allows you to delve in to a different place. A place of discovery - a place of self-discovery. Half the time, I’m blagging my way through shit and then in the end I’m like “Oh snap, I did that. That’s dope!” I love discovering new things about myself, about my talent and about life in general.
I know you are currently based in London- a move that you said was prompted, in part, by outgrowing the South African industry. What has stood out most for you in terms of working in a new country?
It’s hard. VERY hard. But I also think that this industry is hard in general no matter what country or city you live in. Because I grew up in the industry in South Africa, things were a lot easier for me, I know that. I still had to work my ass off, but I also had access to many people - producers, directors etc. In a new city, in a new country, you need to work harder than you would at home. You’re foreign, so you really need to stand out. And just like any other big city in the world, every second person is also an actor, performer, musician, creator, filmmaker and director. I diversified my skills in South Africa, here, I’ve had to diversify even more.
Was it a bit of a relief to have more anonymity when you moved to London? And did that help with exploring parts of your identity and developing your creative voice more?
Yes. It actually was. It was nice being able to go out and not be recognised for a change. Sometimes you just want to buy milk and go home and not have to take selfies or be too smiley. But… that’s also the name of the game, so we can’t hate it. It’s a part of the territory.
People have recognised me a few times here, so I’m not all that anonymous. And all over England, not just London. I had a woman literally do a u-turn in her car once, just so that she could tell me that she recognised me and couldn’t believe that it was me walking down the road. It was a weird moment, I won’t lie. I even got recognised in Scotland once, and it was pretty surreal being stopped on a cobbled street in the middle of Edinburgh by someone who recognises me from their youth. Honestly, that shit will humble you. Being able to make someone’s day while being so far away from home... It’s a beautiful feeling. But, I’m definitely a lot more free here to just figure myself out and develop my own creative voice because within the industry I’m still anonymous. For now!
What’s your definition of freedom?
Freedom is being able to be your authentic self. Free of external influence, and judgement. Loving whoever you want. At home with yourself, and living your best life to its full potential!
Lastly, what legacy do you want to leave behind?
I’ve always found this question so odd. Why does anyone want to leave behind a legacy? Are you living for yourself or are you living to be remembered? Are you doing stuff that matters? Are you making a difference in the world? Even if that world is only a small group of people. I’m not talking about being a bra- burning activist and saving all the children here. I’m just talking about your everyday essence, your everyday being. If you authentically do things, are a certain type of person, create awareness and space for others, advocate for change and difference in this world, educate, learn, unlearn, relearn, spread love, treat people kindly, see through the bullshit and the fluff, aren’t fussed, pulled and swayed by materialistic things, then naturally so and to those who matter, you will leave behind your legacy. Whatever that may be, people will remember you. People remember you for how you made them feel, not how fancy you were, or how lavish your wardrobe, houses and cars were. None of that shit matters. It’s fluff. Yes, we all want nice things, endless money flowing in, a fancy holiday, to always fly first class, that Tesla that costs £90k and and and... But is ‘that’ everything? Humans have a shitload of work to do when it comes to seeing past all that crap. Instagram vs Reality. This is the life we are living in today. People can decide my legacy. I’m just out here doing me.
Be sure to follow Sade Giliberti on Instagram and Twitter, and subscribe to her YouTube channel.
Interview by Gary Hartley
Mental Health Helplines in South Africa:
Dr Reddy's Help Line
0800 21 22 23
Cipla 24hr Mental Health Helpline
0800 456 789
Pharmadynamics Police &Trauma Line
0800 20 50 26
Adcock Ingram Depression and Anxiety Helpline
0800 70 80 90
ADHD Helpline
0800 55 44 33
Department of Social Development Substance Abuse Line 24hr helpline
0800 12 13 14
SMS 32312
Suicide Crisis Line
0800 567 567
SADAG Mental Health Line
011 234 4837
Akeso Psychiatric Response Unit 24 Hour
0861 435 787
Cipla Whatsapp Chat Line
076 882 2775
