The Man of the Moment: Lemogang Tsipa
- BY ELLE NKOSI
- 2 days ago
- 5 min read

It’s just after 9 a.m. when Lemogang Tsipa pops up on my screen, fixing his hair, still riding on five hours of sleep. He was in the studio until three in the morning, working on an album he’s been shaping for two years and by all accounts should be tired. He isn’t. Instead, he’s buzzing; sharp, quick with sarcasm, the kind of presence that makes you feel like you’re talking to an old friend who also happens to be carrying the weight of a generation of South African storytelling on his shoulders.
We began with the question that started it all: when did his love for acting begin? His answer was typical Lemogang, half reflective, half comic. He recalls being a four-year-old glued to the TV, long before he knew what a career in performance could look like. “I just thought it was wild—watching these American blockbusters and kung-fu movies, seeing Jackie Chan do his own stunts, Jim Carrey being absolutely ridiculous. I fell in love with that,” he said.
Still, acting didn’t register as a career until high school, when drama became a subject in his curriculum and his eyes were opened to the possibility of it being a profession, “I was like, I didn’t know you could get paid to do such a fun thing—where do I sign up?” he recalls.
But his parents; academics from a small town weren’t convinced at first. “They were like, ‘What are you going to eat? You want us to pay your rent for the rest of your life?’ ” he laughed. Support eventually came, and with it, a degree in performance. “Since then, I just haven’t looked back,” he said.
That blend of early inspiration, parental support, and his own relentless drive has shaped a career defined not just by talent but by intention.
Lemogang’s influences are telling: Jim Carrey for his comedic genius and Jackie Chan for his comedic, physicality and dedication to craft. ”As a kid I thought those two were the pinacle of what it means to perform on camera” he says simply. “I dont know how well Im following on their footsteps, but they were definitely great sources of inspiration.” And when I asked him if we would do comedy just like Jim Carrey—he didn't hesitate ”Yes, I would love to, I think I’m hilarious, but it’s up to directors to see it.” And it’s clear he’s not limiting himself; romantic roles, action, comedy, music, they’re all on the table. He’s deliberate in his choices, curating his career with an eye toward both growth and longevity.
“Now I fully curate my career, and that’s all thanks to my former agent and mentor,” he continues. “Our paths crossed very early on, and she taught me the importance of shaping a career intentionally and how audience perception influences casting directors, and ultimately, your trajectory in life. Now, Lemogang chooses roles deliberately, first examining the script to see where he fits in the story and whether the energy aligns with how he wants to be perceived.
Shaka is a perfect example: “When I accepted the role, I knew the moment it went out, the way people would see me would change. They now view me in a leadership and more serious light. You borrow traits from your character, and that has tremendous value for the direction I’m going. One of my next goals is to become a producer or director, so without having to be loud about being a leader, people automatically associate those qualities with me now.”

His breakout role as Shaka iLembe marked a turning point, catapulting him from romcoms into roles that command respect. “People see me and there’s this fear, this uncertainty. It’s brilliant, actually. It keeps me sharp and aware.” Lemogang doesn’t sugarcoat the magnitude of it. “It’s the project I’ve committed the most time to in my life. With this one, I couldn’t do anything else. People depended on me to bring my A-game every day. It taught me responsibility in a way nothing else has,” he explained.
Before Shaka, he hadn’t tackled a character so morally complex: an anti-hero, someone with redeeming qualities but also morally questionable actions. Still, he’s cautious about being boxed in as a leading man. “Exclusively doing leading roles can trap you in a hero complex,” he said, referencing Will Smith as both inspiration and cautionary tale. “Supporting roles are underrated, you learn so much watching others carry projects.”
What struck me most throughout the conversation was Tsipa’s business mind. He has a clear-eyed view of the industry’s volatility. “Unemployment is brutal. Overbooking has its own challenges too. So I taught myself other skills, editing and producing music, so that when acting work dries up, I can still put food on the table.” He invests his earnings not in flash, but in equipment—cameras, gear—that can generate future opportunities. “That’s my get-out-of-jail-free card,” he said.
He’s equally pragmatic about the social media era, where follower counts often matter more than raw talent. “It’s a double-edged sword,” he said. “From a pure talent perspective, it’s unfair. And from a business perspective, if I was the investor, I’d want the safest bet. That’s why producers lean on names with audiences. It guarantees returns.”
“I’ve got a circle of friends who remind me of where we came from and why we do this. We send each other old photos, remember the times that weren’t so pretty. It keeps us humble and hungry.”
And yet, Tsipa is living proof that talent, grit, and timing can still break through. He recalls a discouraging moment in ninth grade when a teacher told him acting would only pay him R6,000 a month. “That stuck with me,” he said. “But today, I get to live what people call a ‘soft life.’ I’ve traveled the world, done solo trips to Germany, Canada, Kenya… things I never thought possible growing up.”

Travel, in fact, has become a grounding ritual for him, an inheritance from his father, who journeyed across 40 to 50 countries for work. “It taught me the passport works. And every trip teaches me something new about the world.”
As our conversation wound down, I asked him what keeps him rooted amid the recognition and momentum. His answer wasn’t about routines or rituals; it was about people. “I’ve got a circle of friends who remind me of where we came from and why we do this. We send each other old photos, remember the times that weren’t so pretty. It keeps us humble and hungry.”
That hunger, more than anything, defines Lemogang Tsipa. Yes, he’s Shaka. Yes, he’s building an international profile. But what you feel most when talking to him is a restless energy—a performer who hasn’t yet hit his ceiling.
He may joke about architecture being his backup plan, but make no mistake: Tsipa is busy designing something else entirely. A career built to last. Lemogang’s advice for aspiring actors is rooted in realism and adaptability. “You have to understand that the industry is always moving,” he says. “A lot of the lessons that brought you to where you are today will help you tomorrow, but they won’t be the pillars of where the industry stands next. Keep your mind open, evolve with the industry, and work hard. Remember, in acting, your fate isn’t always fully in your hands. You’ll be employed based on people’s choices, their tastes in the moment, and learning to make peace with that is crucial.”