The Voo-Doo we Do

I was 16 years old when I witnessed my intoxicated uncle scream at the top of his lungs: “I’m a witch; Now what?” at a family gathering. I’m not clear on what the circumstances leading to this outburst were (though I think it is safe to assume that this was drunken babble rather than a factual declaration) but I do know that this awakened a curiosity in me that I have struggled to satisfy. It is a cultural barrier that will stubbornly withstand all transformation. Even in the most diversely evolved future, this will be the thing that white people and black people will struggle to logically explain to one another; witchcraft.

In the many years of society grooming me to become an uppity pseudo white kid who perpetuated elements of white supremacy with my snotty “white” accent and my inability to speak my own vernacular, never have I been confronted with my own blackness more than when a white teacher suggested that there was no such thing as witchcraft. My burning desire to tell her that she was an idiot was held back only by my pursed lips and fear of detention. I felt an almost primal need to list the many people who inexplicably went crazy or went to sleep and never woke up again. It was a confusing time. Surely, in a cut and dry world, bi-polar, schizophrenia, or heart and brain aneurisms would serve as more logical than the old lady next door hunched over a cauldron…but for some reason, at that moment my world seized to be cut and dry.

*I would like to take this opportunity to draw attention to the fact that white people are not completely untouched by the entity that is witchcraft as “supernatural” and “vampire diaries” have so considerately brought to light. If you can believe in vampires and ware wolves, we can believe that an undisclosed amount of people have been turned into flies and various other insects.*

Now, before I delve into my opinion of the issue of witchcraft I would like to apologise in advance to the many people who will be offended by my statements: I don’t mean to hurt you but I do mean what I say. The door to the belief in witchcraft is kicked open around the same time that the door to the belief in miracles. That door is then taken off the hinges by the scientific theories e.g. “for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction”. Angels/demons, God/Lucifer, Heaven and Hell are all just testiments of this “tit for tat” theory. Then there are slogans such as: “If you believe; it you can achieve it” and “mind over matter” which are thrown around all willy-nilly and everyone feels great about it…but what about those who want to achieve things that are to the detriment of others? Surely they can achieve what they believe too? Or is there some sort of filter that ensures that all bad thoughts are not realised? Isn’t that what witchcraft is essentially: bad energy?

I don’t mean to trivialise the white experience at all, and I promise to write many articles on the white experience when I come back as a white woman in my next life, but right now as a black woman, I can honestly say that being black is tough. Often, watching a black family come from nothing and gradually scrape their way to success, school their children and go on to live a comfortable life is somewhat of a miracle, so much so that most times it is assumed that the family had a little help from say….a demonic snake? If the family suffers some sort of a loss (their child or close relative dies) it is widely accepted that the deceased’s life was how the family had to pay for their wealth. No one mentions the double shifts the mother worked or the two jobs the father has because; everyone has double shifts and everyone has two jobs but not everyone has a Lexus. Who is going to tell the man with two jobs, five kids and a mountain of debt that; the only reason the Nxumalo’s have a double story house and their kids are in private school is because they made sacrifices? We all make sacrifices and no one wants to hear that despite their sacrifices; things may never work out for them as well as they worked out for the Nxumalo’s. So it must be a demonic snake. It can’t be luck or good fortune or hard work and preparation meeting opportunity…it is obviously a demonic snake because a demonic snake means that it is fair. A demonic snake means that the only reason the Nxumalo’s are making it, is because they have no problem selling their souls and we all have souls to sell meaning we can all make it.

I’m not saying that witchcraft does not exist but I do believe our insecurities and hardships as black people contribute widely to how much of a role we think witchcraft plays in our lives. There are people who experience hardship after hardship and struggle to make it from one day to the next. People who struggle to actually live due to the amount of sorrow that burdens their day to day lives. Those people are the ones who wake up one day and think: “this can’t be life”. Those are the people who are looking for a reason…desperately seeking an explanation for their unending misfortune and in those cases, it takes one person pointing out a possible witch to initiate a re-enactment of the “Salem witch trials”. With belief comes passion and not all passion is positive. So again, negative energy steals the show.

There are very few black people (if any) that can say with a straight face that they honestly do not believe in witchcraft, mostly because we have just seen too much. The average black person has seen things that would send most whimpering back into their mother’s arms. When I apply my cheap street psychology, my findings are that we need to believe in the supernatural. We need to know that, when needed, there is a means to protect oneself from the evils of this world, whether it is by means of prayer, meditation or chewing on a stick Gonondo gave you. But whose Voo-Doo is the right Voo-Doo? Well that is not for me to decide.

ANCYL: Zuma’s uthini baba moment - by Tinyiko Maluleka

*A must read! by Tinyiko Maluleka...very engaging and interesting angle*

Jacob Zuma was made to wait for three hours because the start of the ANCYL’s elective conference (Midrand, June 16 2011) was delayed by, among others, the late arrival of ANCYL president Julius Malema. Once the conference began, Zuma had to listen to Malema‘s wide-ranging, 90-minute speech — a speech that was not all that flattering of Zuma or the ANC. When Zuma eventually got to say his say, there was such disrespectful heckling, especially from a front row of seats where a section of the ANCYL leadership was seated. Apparently, such was the brazenness of the heckling that at one point in his speech, Zuma had to pause and confront one particularly indecent heckler directly. “U thini baba? U khuluma nami?” Excuse me sir? Are you talking to me?

Zuma’s u thini baba moment was an astonishing moment. It occurred in the middle of one of Zuma’s most important speeches of the year. The speech was important enough for Zuma to wait for three hours in order to deliver it. It was important enough for Zuma to keep a crowd of 55 000 South Africans at Orlando Stadium waiting for three hours — not to mention the millions who waited to see and hear him speak on television. Some commentators and observers have slated Zuma for standing the nation up in order to buy ANCYL support for his second term. Others took the Malema bait about the ANCYL being “the protector of Zuma”. All indications are that there was no love lost between Zuma and Malema. Not then and not now. Not even when Zuma touted Malema as a possible future president. They simply recognised how much they needed one another — each for his own political survival.

Ever since Malema burst onto the political scene in 2008, Zuma and Malema have been playing off each other like striker and midfielder. Such has been the intensity of their mutual need for one another it has been necessary for each to routinely check his potential for independence from the other. In 2008 and much of 2009 Malema’s midfielder role included deflecting attention away from Zuma so Zuma “could score the goals”. Of course Malema was but one of a dozen of Zuma “midfielders” — Mbalula, Vavi, Mantashe, Phosa, Nzimande etc. From late 2009 onwards Malema started showing signs of boredom with the midfielder role. Soon he was scoring own goals and real goals, politically and financially.

The u thini baba moment occurs smack on the day and occasion where Malema was officially declaring his graduation from both the midfield role and the striker’s role into the captain’s role. Where Zuma’s June 16 speech was framed in didactic and clarification mode, Malema’s June 16 speech was clearly framed as an agenda-setting speech. Malema’s lieutenants sensed that their leader had the upper hand and in their enthusiasm, to savour the moment, they catapulted Zuma into the u thini baba moment.

Was this the moment in which Zuma came to realise that his partnership with Malema had served its term and outlived its purpose? I want to suggest that the most significant thing at the ANCYL conference was not the waiting Zuma had to endure; it was not when Malema declared his loyalty to Zuma; it was not the shameful jilting of the crowd-in-waiting at Orlando Stadium; the most significant thing was rather the u thini baba moment. Like a spurned lover who knows deep down that the game is up but waits and pleads desperately for denial or unequivocal confirmation, the u-thini-baba moment was the moment Zuma both needed and dreaded.

When the moment came, the least Zuma could do was acknowledge it. So he pressed the pause button on his speech, forcing a moment of complete silence in the hall. Typically, he pushed his reading glasses up his nose bridge, bit his lower lip and wiping all traces of the smile that sometimes seems to sit permanently on his face, he turned around, looked the heckler in the eye and asked two terse questions: U thini baba? U khuluma nami? Say that again! Are you talking to me? The questions were rhetorical and the heckler new that instantly. No response was necessary. These were no questions, really. It was a growl accepting the challenge to war and verbalising a broken relationship and publicly acknowledging a deep sense of mutual disdain.

It was a moment of revelation for the youth league as well. It was a moment that unmasked the webs of deceit and flattery that had characterised Malema’s earlier pledge to Zuma that he was seated among his staunchest and most loyal supporters — his “protectors”. The u thini baba moment was therefore a moment of truth for both parties. Before that moment things were tricky and difficult for Zuma — much like looking for one’s lost or misplaced contact eye lenses in a dark room. After that moment things became clearer but no less difficult.

We now live in the post-u thini baba era. This is the era in which we have seen the installation of Mac Maharaj and Amos Masondo in Zuma’s presidential offices — the Union Buildings and Luthuli House. But alas! Seduced by the almost total victory at the ANCYL elections and buoyed by the animated responses to the nationalisation proposal, Malema and his supporters appear to have either missed or misread the significance of the u thini baba moment. From time to time they slip into pre-u thini baba mode. They seem to think that they are still covered with Zuma’s boundless blanket of goodwill and goodness. Malema and his friends do not seem to realise that Zuma has withdrawn the political overdraft he had given them.

In the process Malema and the league have proceeded to usurp foreign policy and economic policy leadership from both the government and the ruling party. This is how Malema has proceeded to install the nationalisation of mines debate at the centre of national discourse. And this is how he has issued some of the sharpest and most embarrassing criticisms of South African foreign policy positions — on Libya, on Ivory Coast and more recently and most brazenly on Botswana. Nor has Malema stopped doing what he does better than everyone else — manufacturing a thousand red herrings and plausible plastic issues to rationalise and justify his actions and utterances. One such red herring is the threat of disciplinary action against Malema, an attempt to reduce or remove his influence on the ANC succession debate.

Meanwhile the South African media have been hard at work — over the past month — trying to expose what they see as the unseemly side to Malema’s wealth. AfriForum has laid criminal charges. The Public Protector has indicated she will investigate certain aspects of the allegations. The ANC has a meeting with Malema and Co today. Will the ANC have the courage to act decisively? Will Zuma have the courage to act in a post-u thini baba manner or will he revert to a pre-u thini baba mode of action? All will soon be revealed

Degrees of separation

There is a major misconception in our modern society. Our post apartheid, rainbow nation, “we all have rights,” khumbaya, hand-holding society. The misconception…the assumption is that turning a privilege into a right makes it easier to attain; that the word “right” will cause a ripple of transformation which will, eventually, reach everyone. Here’s the problem with this assumption; it’s a load of rubbish. An example of this load of rubbish is the relationship between basic education and its distant cousin (twice removed); Higher Education. Allow me to elaborate:

When a child is sent to Pre-Primary School, it is generally assumed that from there they will advance to Primary school. Parents give one another advice as to which schools have the best teachers and conversations are had about application forms and similar processes. The child reaches the seventh grade and the same conversations are had about which high school is best and concerns over transportation and fees etc. When the child reaches the eleventh and twelfth grade, the conversation comes up again, which University or Technical college (or whatever else they are calling them nowadays) is best. Their fees are debated and reputations scrutinised and large volumes of information are shared. Now, these conversations stretch from rural Eastern Cape to Sandton, however whether all three of these conversations are had depends heavily on class and/or privilege. So…the access to the so-called right; depends on ones class and/or privilege. The margins seem clear; supposedly, everyone can ride the basic education bus…Higher Education, however, is a two seated sports car; no one is saying you can never ride it, you are just going to have to pay…and the currency is either Rands or human tears depending on your circumstances.

We have a knack for holding up “token rural pupils”. “Look at Themba, he lives in a mud hut and has never slept in a bed. His mother is a drunk and his classroom has no roof but he managed to get six distinctions in matric and go on to get more distinctions in University. He hasn’t a worry in the world because we are picking up the tab” what we don’t realise is that we are making Higher Education seem even more farfetched for any ‘C grade aggregate’ student who goes to the same school. By no stretch of their imagination are they going to get six distinctions and unfortunately that may be their only shot. Now there are those chosen few who decide that they will apply and attempt to get study loans once they are in University, but no one prepares them for the hostility that they will be faced with. They are not told that they will be expected to submit assignments electronically regardless of them having never used a computer let alone email. They are not warned that privileged people tend to stop listening when they hear a heavy rural accent. They are not informed that though they may have been accepted into the University; they will only be tolerated by the people in it. So, once again class and/or privilege (or lack thereof) stands between an individual and their rights. Even Themba and all of his distinctions and his zero balance on his fees account will struggle; and eventually have to choose: Is he Themba, the boy from a small village in Peddie, or is he a scholar at the University of Snooty. The two worlds are very far apart making them difficult to straddle, and usually the only method of survival is to succumb to grooming.

Our society is always too happy to throw people onto the lazy pile. Could someone please explain to me where ubuntu went? Whatever happened to empathy? When did it become so difficult for people to attempt to understand the circumstances of others? How is it that when a child goes into University and experiences a genuine culture shock, they become the responsibility of the Christians or the Hippies and everyone else is willing to stand back and watch them drown. Young men and women are leaving universities with debt and no degrees. Coming out worse off than when they went in. We, as a society, would like to attribute it all to laziness and lack of will…however, our unwillingness to acknowledge that there are other factors reveals that we are in fact the ones who are lazy and lack will. Perhaps I am being rash, perhaps my rants are propelled by mountains of debt made by student loans and I am just a sorry, nagging, bitter, stick in the mud who owes the government money….OR maybe, just maybe, there is some work to be done when it comes to the elitist nature of Higher Education.

Attaching privilege to any form of education perpetuates poverty. Children in rural areas throw blankets on mirrors and sit flat on the ground when the heavens darken for fear of being struck by lightning, those same children go to school every day but a University degree may never even cross their minds. What are the odds really?

Sex-o-phobia

I'm scared of teenagers. Not because of their long arms and their greasy hair. Hell, not even their strange sms language is the source of my fear...no. I fear them because i believe that if one thinks about or wishes for something to happen for long enough; it probably will, and after conducting some self-funded research, i came to discover that the average teenager will wish that "Everyone would just shut up and die" at least three times a day. I would even go so far as to say that recent floods, droughts and glacial melting are 50% global warming and 50% wishful thinking from modern day teens. There are many contributing factors to this way of thinking; immaturity, hormones and inability to see the bigger picture...but I’m going to go ahead and side with the kids on this one and blame old people and sex.

The relationship that South African's past the age of 35 have with sex is much like a gremlin, it’s all warm and fuzzy in the light of day but don’t dare feed it after midnight or it will show you a side to itself that will scar you for life. I am generalizing, i realize, and so completely understand those who have set this article aside because "it has nothing to do with them". Having said that, allow me to share an example that may help sharpen my point before you dismiss me completely. Many (black and female) acquaintances of mine have recently gotten married, most (if not all) of them mentioned that the night before their wedding was the first time that anyone in their families had spoken to them about sex. Really? In a time of porn and hip hop, everyone is willing to risk holding off the "sex talk" until the eve of one’s wedding?

Young South Africans (but young South African girls especially) find themselves being passed a baton of silence when it comes to sex as if it is some dirty little secret that is only shared under duress. For most young women, entering into their teen years is much like finding a black cat in a dark room; you pretty much have to feel your way through it. Sex education comes in strange bursts; reproductive cycle, condoms and AIDS at school; and accusations of being preoccupied with boys at home.

Sex becomes either something people that love each other do, or something that whores do...and apparently there is nothing in between. Homosexuality of course is something that was born in the 80's and is blamed either on Somizi Mhlongo or English but does not come about without some form of influence; Gay teens are softies and Lesbian teens are going through a phase...Am i the only one who objects to this blatant flippancy towards important subject matter, during a stage that could be considered to be the most impressionable since the first five years of the human life?

Rather than risk the discomfort of a frank, concise but honest conversation with their teens, most parents will either shame their teens for even thinking about sex in the first place or scare them out of sex with child-birth videos and pictures of dying AIDS patients. Yes, teenage pregnancy has brought many an adolescent life to a screeching halt and yes, AIDS is a serious disease that has our country by the throat, but facts with no conversation are hardly effective. Shouting AIDS at the top of one’s lungs at the first mention of sex is much like showing someone pictures of mangled bodies at an accident site at the first mention of them wanting to learn to drive; it screams phobia. Dare i say that South Africans are suffering from Sex-o-phobia?

Whose responsibility is it to tell young women and men that their bodies are not up for negotiation? That objectification is by no means a compliment; that other than food and water, sex is one of the only other things that your body can crave without having had it before? That sex feels good...but there is no such thing as making love...love usually comes first. If not the parents, who? Surely parents owe honesty, at the very least, to their children. No agendas, no fears...just preparation.

I am hardly an expert, i mean i just recently shed the last traces of residue left by my teen years...but it is for that reason i am able to empathize. It is a difficult time. It is a time when everyone is demanding that you identify yourself when you really are not ready to. It is an unstable, ever changing time. It is a time when everyone seems to be talking but no one seems to be saying anything, so it is no wonder they want us all to shut up and die...it’s not like we are speaking to them anyway.

The seX factor

I look at this woman and I can't help but wonder. We live in a society that hardly accepts those of us who are considered normal. Our teen years are riddled with all sorts of cries for attention and approval from...everyone. The world in general has a warped relationship with sex and all things related. Parents would much rather have their children witness a beheading than have them witness a couple have sexual relations. So I...marvel at this woman, Lea T, and I wonder how tormented she must have been before she decide that enough was enough...that she would succumb to her femininity and leave the shell of masculinity that she was born with.

I am vexed at the 'boxed in' mentality that we as a society are so comfortable with. This is this and that is that and there is nothing in between. One only has to reflect back to the Caster Simenya debacle to see how uncomfortable we are with the idea that there may be more to life than what we thought. But I can understand...in fact I can almost sympathise with the idea of growing up with a certain ideal deeply intrenched in you and struggling to come to terms with the fact that the ideal may be up for debate. What I cannot and will not understand is our lack of empathy. We all know what it is to be a teenager. We are all fully aware of the amount of confusion and hightened emotion that comes with the dawning of each day. Teenagers are a bunch of tortured souls that will jump off the highest building at the slightest provocation...knowing that, how is it that we are unable to empathise with those who are faced with feelings that may be interpreted as abnormal?

For most teenagers the yearning for approval trumps every other feeling, all you have to do is look at the amount of teens that find themselves scribbling down a cellphone number quoted on a "Pain free abortion" poster. From childhood most are taught that the opinions of others matter more than their own. I don't know that parents know that when they "what will people say?" everytime their child does something out of order, they are setting their child up for major disappointment because; that child may end up trying to impress "people" at their detriment only to find out that "people" don't give a rats ass. Yes they will judge you and ridecule you...but then tomorrow they will find another freak to laugh at.

So this is basically a salute to Lea T who was honest with herself and others. I don't know what it is to feel displaced to the point of physical discomfort. I cannot begin to imaging how restless one must feel when they open their eyes in the morning and know that they are going to spend the next 12 hours lying to everyone they meet...I can only say that I respect those who understand that they are the ones who have to live with themselves.

(wo)man

Being a woman is tough. Not because of childbirth and the intricacy of applying mascara but because everyone (including other women) seems to hate you. I realise that this is a bold and generalised statement but not entirely unfounded or at least not in my opinion. The rape and domestic violence statistics speak volumes about how a certain amount of men feel about women, and then the fact that a woman will snatch another woman’s eyeballs out over a man says all there is to be said about the so called sisterhood. Women seem to be on the bottom of everyone’s list and nobody seems to know how they got there.

Frank discussions with female friends of mine have resulted in men being related to every being in the animal kingdom. Sentences are punctuated with hand gestures and are drenched with onomatopoeic slurs as women relate their nightmarish encounters with men they dub inconsiderate, selfish and ignorant. However, at the end of all the ranting and cursing…the cliché “boys will be boys” still prevails. Now I could take on the stereotypical feminist standpoint and throw my hands up in disgust at the way that men treat woman but that would be too easy. I’d rather point out the fact that we as a society have taught women how to treat men and in so doing cultivated the way men treat women. We worship men from birth. It is a sad truth that is apparently here to stay. I was naive enough to assume that women my age were enlightened enough to know that there really isn’t anything that superior about a man. So, imagine my horror when a woman my age with all her education and English said she would rather have sons because “girls are whores”.

We insist on making all sorts of excuses on behalf of the handful of men who treat women like rubbish and in so doing detract from those men who hold women in a high regard. We, as women, account all inappropriate behaviour displayed by men to them being men. I mean surely even men are insulted at the notion of them having absolutely no control over their penises (so much so that they urinate and scratch in public because apparently; once the penis has spoken...it has spoken).

We are living in a society where young gay men are being beaten to death for not being man enough. Lesbian teens are being raped to “cure” them of their “disease” because God forbid anyone says no to a penis. Women are married to men who have illegitimate children sprinkled all over South Africa and dare not stand their ground against the man of the house. Really? In a time when HIV/AIDS has our country in a choke hold, women are still allowing themselves to be subjected to repeated infidelity and physical abuse. In a time of female rights and feminist action there are still very few people who believe that there is such a thing as a husband raping his wife. In 2011 we are still making excuses for rapists…really? Now, I know the darkness that surrounds abusive relationships so I sympathize, however what frustrates me is how blazè most communities are when it comes to these situations. This “men are men” attitude is a load of rubbish.

According to (black) women the options are as follows: if you find a man you love you can either a) accept that he is going to cheat on you and ask that he has the courtesy to cover his tracks or b) leave every man that cheats on you and land up having slept with every man alive. We have been robbed of our confidence. We as women are not confident enough to expect any respect out of our relationships. All we expect is to be cheated on and beat on and if we aren’t we just assume that the man involved is some sort of master of deception. Women weaken themselves in the shadow of men, we women who start and end wars.

I find myself wallowing in a pool of disappointment when it comes to women’s willingness to shy away from the glory that is rightfully theirs. When a woman is confident in herself and does not depend on the opinion of another, whether they be male or female, I believe she flourishes in ways that far surpass anything she could have imagined for herself.

Now I am not a bra burning feminist, I am even honest enough to admit that in the modern world; I do not really know what true feminism is. What I do know that I am stubborn and I wish that a few of my sisters would be a little more stubborn with me. I wont try and do every little thing a man does…but I will never let a man tell me what I CANNOT do.

BLue Valentine

If you have ever gotten to a point in a relationship where you literally cannot do it any more...this is a movie you would relate to. It allows you to watch a relationship disintergrate to a point of resentment.

Ryan Gosling delivers as per usual with his delicate yet honest depiction of his character and Michelle Williams shows massive growth as transcends *in our minds* into a mature actress who owns her character and all its ugly emotions...loved this movie and i think anyone who has had to give up on what they THOUGHT was love will too...