TUMELO MOLEFE

Molefe wasn't born humming Mozart. He liked music, but that meant Kwaito or R&B. In fact, when the 12 year old first heard that the Melodi Music Project would be offering recorder lessons in Soweto, "the idea sounded boring", he recalls. But his mother urged him to try it, since the boy had nothing to do but lounge around the house on weekends.

It didn't take Molefe long to discover that learning recorder is not boring. Now he likes to arrive early for rehearsals and lessons, hoping to catch a little bit of extra time learning from his mentor.

After 2 years of studying music with the Melodi Music project, Molefe plays descant recorder with the chamber group, performing all around Johannesburg. Eventually, he would like to take up the Oboe.

Though the youngster hasn't given up on his dream of becoming a doctor, he says, "I want to do music until I'm old".

MPUMELELO NYUSHMAN

At 15, Mpumelelo was convinced that this was the opportunity he had been waiting for. "Here's something maybe that could change my life," thought Nyushman, because "sitting and doing nothing, gains nothing".

The oldest and probably hardest working pupil has become the first Melodi student to move on from the recorder to a symphonic woodwind instrument; the Bassoon.

Now 17, Mpumelelo would like to start a degree in accounting and continue his musical education. "Every spare moment after studying, I will practice my music", he vows. "I want to play in a national orchestra," he says, "I want to be one of the best professional Bassoon players."

NTEBOGELENG MASHUGA

Ntebogeleng signed up for recorder lessons mostly to alleviate the boredom of wandering the streets with friends on the weekends. But recalling her introduction to the recorder, she says, "the first time I held it, I said, I'm going to do this for the rest of my life".

She speaks of music with the maturity of someone twice her age. "I can use it to express myself," she says, "I'm using it to express my feelings, somehow". She waxes equally poetically when recalling the symphony concerts she has heard on outings with Melodi. "They open your heart," she marvels, "you think of things you wouldn't have thought of, and they release stress".

Ntebogeleng says that her friends don't quite appreciate her music. "They think I'm odd", she says, "but I'm used to it". Her friends feel differently about her opportunities to play and perform on the recorder, however. "They think I'm lucky, because only the rich girls can do that. They didn't think someone from the township could do that."