The simmering, years-long custody and co-parenting feud between music stars Molemo “Jub Jub” Maarohanye and Kelly Khumalo has violently erupted into the public sphere once again.
This time, however, the response from Maarohanye has been immediate, emotional, and deeply personal, delivered via a viral video post that serves as a direct, angry rebuttal to Khumalo’s repeated claims of him being a “deadbeat father” and a “sperm donor” on various public platforms, including high-profile podcasts.

Maarohanye’s lengthy, unfiltered response has laid bare the painful, often toxic dynamics of their relationship and the profound struggle he faces in trying to gain access to their shared son, Christian.
The saga, which has captivated and divided South African audiences for over a decade, reached a new fever pitch following Khumalo’s recent appearances.
On one particular podcast, she controversially hailed her late partner, Senzo Meyiwa, as the “best baby daddy” she has ever had, contrasting his alleged consistency with the supposed absence of Maarohanye.
This public comparison, coupled with numerous previous insinuations and direct statements about Maarohanye’s parental failings—including one on Father’s Day this year—appears to have been the breaking point for the rapper.
Maarohanye, clearly incensed and fighting back tears, opened his response by addressing Khumalo directly, acknowledging her role in their son’s life while simultaneously issuing a scathing condemnation of her public attacks on his character.
“I’ve been looking at a lot of social media uh posts and comments and stuff about what the mother of my child has been saying,” he began, his voice tight with emotion.
“I understand what you’re trying to do.”
He offered an initial gesture of gratitude, though it was quickly overshadowed by his anguish.
“Firstly, I’d like to thank you for raising up my boy at a time that I couldn’t when I was locked up.
I’d like to thank you for being a great mother, Guy.”
He continued, “I’d like to thank you for being present when um I was not then and when I was still trying to get up on my feet.”
This brief acknowledgment of her efforts during his incarceration and subsequent reintegration period was the only olive branch offered.
The tone then shifted dramatically as he zeroed in on the core of his distress.
“However, I don’t like, don’t do that and lie about me and assassinate my character.
Shoot this.
This, stop it.
Don’t do it.
Stop it.
With anger.”

His repetition of “Stop it” underscored the depth of his frustration and anger at what he perceives as a malicious campaign against him.
Maarohanye then pleaded with Khumalo to consider the long-term emotional damage to their son.
“What do you think my son is thinking when he grows up and starts looking at the videos that you’ve been making talking about his father like that and blah blah and blah blah and whatnot.”
He appealed to the shared trauma of their past legal battles, hinting at a desire to protect Christian from the adversarial environment of the courtroom.
“You and I both know what court is like.
It’s hard.
It’s hard for the bosoms.
So I don’t want to be putting my boy through that going to court.
I don’t want to do that.”
The rapper systematically dismantled the narrative that he has been an absent or unwilling father.
He exposed the behind-the-scenes efforts he claims he has made to be a part of Christian’s life, highlighting how these attempts have been allegedly rebuffed and blocked by Khumalo.
“You know how many times I’ve tried to get a hold of you to try and get a boy.
Number two, you know how many times your sister and your mother have been trying to talk about… Stop it, man.
Stop it.
It’s not nice.
It’s not fair.
Let boy come back.”
Maarohanye went on to detail his attempts to fulfill customary obligations and provide financial support, which Khumalo’s public statements often ignore.
“So many times I’ve wanted to pay damages.
So many times I’ve wanted, so many times I’ve wanted to do the right things.
You’ve been locking me out from the time, from the time I was locked up.”
He even offered specific evidence of his persistent efforts, claiming he has receipts to prove he has been sending gifts consistently for years.
“I’ve been sending gifts to a force law every Christmas, every December, every birthday.
You know what Christian’s first gift was?
I used to send Pablo to come and drop them off.
I’ve got receipts to prove it.
Or 2014.”
The critical point of Maarohanye’s video was his direct challenge to the “deadbeat father” label.
“So, please don’t make me look like a deadbeat father.
I’m alive.
I’m kicking.
I’ve been wanting Christian.”
He stressed that he and Christian have a connection and refuted the claim that the child wants nothing to do with him.
“Christian has never at me.
I’ve even gone on podcast and done all those things.
I’ve made wrong mistakes trying to get people to help me.”
He further claimed that Khumalo actively undermined his attempts to resolve the matter legally and peacefully.
“It’s okay.
Please bring boy because we did try to go to court, did we not?
You rejected that.
Your moodly lawyer loa, you and her ignored us.
I do not want to go that way.
So stop making me a deadbeat father.
It’s not right.
Stop it.
Stop it.”
The emotional depth of his struggle was most evident when he described the agonizing measures he has been forced to take just to see his son.
He painted a heartbreaking picture of a father reduced to a silent observer.
“You’ve blocked private calls so that you can see the number.
I just um true call or something.
Caller ID can show what it is now.
Boy’s not answering the phone or whatnot.”

He then revealed a practice that speaks volumes about his desperation.
“You know, the most painful thing, Kelly, is driving to Christian school and parking outside, um, and waiting and just looking at your son grow every day and you just park there and you just watch him and you can’t do anything about it because then my son will get shouted at.
He’ll be abused.
Can’t take him for ice cream.
Can’t take him for anything.
Can’t call him freely.
It’s the most painful thing ever.”
Maarohanye made it clear that he is not seeking sole custody, but simply the opportunity to be a consistent part of his son’s life.
“I’m not asking for full custody.
I’m just asking to be present in my boy’s life.
That’s all.
Try and see what it’ll be like to jump in a shower, get um go see my son and you don’t get to talk to me.
You just park there and you just watch him.”
In a final, specific act of laying bare his involvement, he mentioned a recent gift to his son, an item Khumalo would undoubtedly have seen.
“And those soccer boots that he’s wearing.
Just ask him where you got them from.
Ask him where he got the soccer boo from ‘cuz I love the way he plays.
I watch it nice.
And please do me a favor.
Go see my side.
Don’t now go and shout at Christian or take the soccer boots and throw them away.
Don’t do that.
Don’t do that.”
He ended his message by appealing for a ceasefire and a path toward constructive co-parenting, highlighting Khumalo’s alleged “anger issues” and the exhaustion of the public.
“And stop every time when you look at Christian or ‘cuz you got anger issues, K.
Got anger issues.
Um don’t go and shout at Christian anymore.
And please you got to stop going around talking about me, man.
It’s tired.
My followers, my fans, my people that support me, they also tired, you know.
So, don’t do that, man.
Let’s just um be with boy, raise him up, um, and let’s just co-parent nicely.
I think it’s time, don’t you think?”
This explosive public confrontation has reignited the intense debate about the ethics of co-parenting in the age of social media.

The commentary surrounding the video reflects a significant split, with some critics questioning Maarohanye’s choice of using a public platform—like the podcasts he criticizes Khumalo for using—instead of focusing solely on the legal system.
They argue that making a video for “strangers to watch and talk about you” is merely seeking attention, not resolution, and is equally detrimental to the child.
“It’s really giving I don’t want my child back.
I’m really um loving this attention.
You know, that’s my personal opinion, you guys.
And I’m not saying Kell is right and I’m not saying Dup is right, but it’s giving both of them are just crazy.”
However, others argue that Maarohanye’s dramatic, unfiltered video—detailing his park-and-watch routine and the alleged blocking of contact—provides a visceral counter-narrative to Khumalo’s accusations, which have been amplified without challenge for months.
By exposing his alleged attempts to resolve the matter both privately and legally, Maarohanye has shifted the focus from his past mistakes to his current, desperate efforts, forcing the public to confront the possibility that the “deadbeat” label is being used as a weapon to sever a paternal bond.
The incident highlights a profound failure in communication and conflict resolution between the two parents.
The use of their child as an apparent emotional battleground, whether through public exposure or alleged private coercion, has drawn widespread condemnation from observers who lament the potential psychological damage being inflicted.
As one commenter noted: “Can you just stop?
‘Cuz at the end of the day, you are hurting your child, guys.
You are hurting your child.”
The core issue remains unresolved.
Maarohanye wants access and Khumalo appears determined to deny it, using her public profile to justify her stance.
His video, which attempts to expose “everything” he has been doing behind the scenes, represents a highly charged, high-stakes plea to the court of public opinion, demanding an end to the character assassination and the return of his son to his life.
The nation waits to see if this public breaking point will lead to a private resolution or if the protracted, painful custody battle will now escalate into a formal legal confrontation, the very thing Maarohanye claims he desperately wants to avoid for Christian’s sake.
Until then, the emotional fallout from this public family drama continues to dominate headlines, providing a cautionary tale about the perils of co-parenting under the intense glare of celebrity.