In the heart of Lusaka’s growing creative corridor, South African-born chef Vusi Kunene is proving that food can do more than satisfy hunger. It can spark dialogue, restore dignity, and reshape how communities think about sustainability. His latest venture, Skyfall, is not simply a restaurant. It is a living, breathing experiment in how art, design, and cuisine can come together to inspire change.
When Kunene arrived in Zambia, he did not come with investors or blueprints. What he brought instead was conviction, the belief that food could be used as a system of repair, a tool for rebuilding attitudes and connections. His journey north began through a partnership with Nicho Holdings, the Zambian group that invited him to collaborate on a new kind of dining space, one that could unite culinary craft, creativity, and climate awareness.
“Johannesburg made me who I am,” Kunene says. “But Lusaka taught me what food can really do when it is used to heal.”
Opened in 2025, Skyfall is among Lusaka’s most intriguing new landmarks. At first glance, it offers sleek modernity, high ceilings, sculptural lighting, and a gentle nod to African elegance. Yet beneath that surface lies an idea far greater than design. Much of the restaurant’s décor, from glowing wall installations to delicate chandeliers, is made from upcycled plastic waste collected from the Kafue River and surrounding drains. What once clogged waterways now illuminates one of the continent’s most forward-thinking dining spaces.
“I wanted people to dine inside a conversation,” Kunene explains. “If someone realises that the light above them once floated in a river, the meal becomes part of a larger awakening.”
That philosophy runs through everything Skyfall stands for. The restaurant doubles as a design studio and community classroom, where local artisans turn reclaimed plastic into art and furniture. Each month, Kunene and his team host clean-up drives that serve as both environmental action and public education, teaching residents about waste management and climate resilience.
But Kunene’s definition of sustainability goes far beyond materials. At Skyfall, ninety percent of the staff are women, many of them working in hospitality for the first time. “This is not charity. It is strategy,” he says simply. “When you empower women, you empower the economy.”
Through partnerships with Cape Town’s Under the Influence and other training institutions, Kunene has created cross-border exchanges that send his staff to South Africa’s vineyards and culinary schools. His vision is to build a leadership pipeline, turning waitresses into sommeliers, line cooks into restaurant owners, and employees into mentors.
For Kunene, this is a continuation of a journey that began long before Skyfall. His first major success came with The Blackanese, South Africa’s first black-owned sushi bar. At a time when fine dining in Johannesburg was still dominated by white ownership, Kunene’s fusion of Japanese precision and African ingredients challenged the norms of who could define sophistication. The restaurant drew international attention, from CNN to Forbes, and led to further ventures such as the Rooftop BBQ. Then came the pandemic, and a pause that forced reflection.
“When the world shut down, I had to ask myself what hospitality was really for,” he recalls. “Was it just about impressing people, or could it be about healing them?”
That question became the foundation for Skyfall, which Kunene describes as a “culinary prototype” a place to experiment with ideas that connect sustainability, inclusion, and creativity. The restaurant now hosts regular Food for Thought dialogues, where artists, policymakers, and business leaders gather to discuss environmental innovation and community design. The concept blurs the line between restaurant, gallery, and civic space, functioning almost as a model for a smarter, more empathetic city.
“If chefs can use food to change taste,” Kunene says, “then we can also use it to change thinking.”
Beyond Lusaka, Kunene is extending his reach through The Culture Exchange, a new platform linking chefs from Zambia and South Africa to collaborate on sustainable sourcing and storytelling through food. He calls it a form of culinary diplomacy; food as a bridge between nations. “African cuisine does not need validation,” he says. “It just needs a voice. And food is the most powerful microphone we have.”
The Skyfall model is already attracting international attention. Kunene and Nicho Holdings are exploring how its principles can be scaled into training academies and creative labs dedicated to circular economies and youth empowerment. He calls it “culinary infrastructure” using restaurants as engines for education, environmental awareness, and social transformation.
“Restaurants can be incubators,” he says. “They can teach us how to reduce waste, employ more fairly, and connect creativity to climate resilience. Skyfall is just the beginning.”
Kunene’s story is, ultimately, one of reinvention — from a young entrepreneur in Johannesburg’s food scene to a chef who uses cuisine as a language of healing and hope. At Skyfall, every dish tells a story, every recycled chandelier glows with second chances, and every woman behind the counter stands as proof that beauty and purpose can share the same plate.
“Skyfall is not just a restaurant,” Kunene says quietly. “It is a movement plated beautifully.”
