The delicious rot by Matuba Mahlatjie

Back in the day I used to draw inspiration from personal experience. Both good and bad. These days experience include people's tweets on one's timeline.
One man tweeted that he was inspired by the courage of women who were politically active in the 1950s. She used Ms Winnie Madikizela-Mandela as an example. My head started playing slideshows of Mama Albertina Sisulu, Ruth First, Helen Joseph and many others. They all fought back against the evil apartheid government.
Today we are unfortunate because we have no such women. A whole generation faded with time. They are replaced with women who glorify patriarchy. They are replaced by men and women who will suppress conscience so they can make a living in the new free South Africa. The South Africa that those brave women hoped for all those many difficult years ago.
I know you are anxious and want me to get to the point. Let me remind you how we continue to blame Israel and other countries that sponsored apartheid. Directly and indirectly, we condemn them up to this day.
But we continue to sponsor unemployment, poverty and corruption. Whether it is directly or indirectly. We do it. If we let a family from Asia that has influence over our government so it can make money and do nothing about it, it means we are comfortable with bullshit. It gets worse because some the most principled people I know have have swapped their principles for money.  They are now on the payroll of people who have contaminated our democracy. It is my belief that if that is the case, we too sponsor the ills that plague our hard-earned freedom.
Nelson Mandela was no saint, but he had principles. He turned down freedom because it was at the expense of his comrades. We would never turn down an offer to advance ourselves. Even if it is at the expense of others. We would rather be in make-up in front of cameras and repurposing what should be stories.
The factory that manufactured Compassion must have shut down in the 1950s. The few good people that are left are in the background. They are worn out from swimming against a massive tide of corruption, poverty and unemployment. The one that we subconsciously sponsor. We are almost the like parasites that feed on a corpse. Because the rot is so delicious. It's better than making our own kill amd sharing it.    

The delicious rot by Matuba Mahlatjie

Back in the day I used to draw inspiration from personal experience. Both good and bad. These days experience include people's tweets on one's timeline.
One man tweeted that he was inspired by the courage of women who were politically active in the 1950s. She used Ms Winnie Madikizela-Mandela as an example. My head started playing slideshows of Mama Albertina Sisulu, Ruth First, Helen Joseph and many others. They all fought back against the evil apartheid government.
Today we are unfortunate because we have no such women. A whole generation faded with time. They are replaced with women who glorify patriarchy. They are replaced by men and women who will suppress conscience so they can make a living in the new free South Africa. The South Africa that those brave women hoped for all those many difficult years ago.
I know you are anxious and want me to get to the point. Let me remind you how we continue to blame Israel and other countries that sponsored apartheid. Directly and indirectly, we condemn them up to this day.
But we continue to sponsor unemployment, poverty and corruption. Whether it is directly or indirectly. We do it. If we let a family from Asia that has influence over our government so it can make money and do nothing about it, it means we are comfortable with bullshit. It gets worse because some the most principled people I know have have swapped their principles for money.  They are now on the payroll of people who have contaminated our democracy. It is my belief that if that is the case, we too sponsor the ills that plague our hard-earned freedom.
Nelson Mandela was no saint, but he had principles. He turned down freedom because it was at the expense of his comrades. We would never turn down an offer to advance ourselves. Even if it is at the expense of others. We would rather be in make-up in front of cameras and repurposing what should be stories.
The factory that manufactured Compassion must have shut down in the 1950s. The few good people that are left are in the background.

Matters of the heart by Matuba Mahlatjie

I am probably one of many people who just never gave up on love. Even though I admit that I did love some wrong people. Wrong people because they did not return the love. This was way before gay relationships became an extra mural activity for a lot of men who labeled themselves straight in the earlier days. 

I have been confronted with cases of women, most of them great people, whom I thought were happy telling me that they are actually working hard to keep their relationships intact. It almost sounded like it was a second job they could not abscond from. To them, it was important for everyone to believe that everything is good. Giving the impression that they are happier and taken care of. I know all about loving the wrong people. Investing time, emotions and sometimes  money in a relationship that I sometimes knew deep down it would not materialise. That's a lesson I took from all the bad blood that was between myself and my ex-boyfriends. I stopped being dishonest about my feelings. I stopped giving everyone the wrong impression. While others will scavenge on the rough patch I was going through, some really reached out and helped me out of the pit I was in. It's about choices; you choose the stuff that's gonna make you and loose the ones that will break you. You make it easy for people to love you. More especially when you love yourself. 

So here is my advise to young women and men who enter relationships, those who marry or commit themselves to other people. And to those who lie.

There is no such thing as an "open marriage". Divorce is open. Marriage is pretending, denial. Someone would say this is a bit cynical thing to say. But once two people admit that it's not what they want, to wake up with the same person in perpetuity, the choice becomes either divorce or compromise. It's much easier to pretend. Isn't it? Get a big house, buy nice things, go on expensive trips. All the trappings of a happy life. The problem comes when you get caught. When Others know that you were never really happy. Your facade has been broken. It wasn't enough, you screwed around and now you got caught and everyone knows. Make smart choices. Matters of the heart require tact. Save yourself. Love yourself. Respect others and be honest to you especially.

And this is from a not always happily married man, but still very much in love with the man I chose to share my life with. 

E-Tolls: We are the wives of the governors. All of us!

The amazing thing about e-Tolls is that even young men from RDP houses in extension 5, Soshnaguve are upset about them. They don't even own cars and their future is bleak because of the lack of economic transformation. So, I suppose this takes a toll on them too. I cracked up laughing listening to some of their criticism of the tolls. The not so funny part though of this whole saga is that there is a clear US and THEM sensed by people at the bottom of the food chain. The people that we rub shoulders with every day. 

My take on this is that we as South Africans are treated like the wives of powerful men who will not listen to us. We are the submissive wives of the governors who come back home, or sometimes don't even come back to see how we are doing. Those of us who are employed generate this economy and keep the wheels turning. We are just like the wives who continue to bear children too scared to ask "what will my children eat". No time to even assess our reproductive health, we just continue to deliver. The unemployed ones are like the older, unattractive wives they married under pressure from family. And you know you can't choose your family. So those without work are a serious inconvenience to the governors. We are like the wives of the governors. We have no say in what goes on in our household. We just make sure everybody eats at the end of the day. 

Probably this might be a horrible analogy. But if you know toxic relationships and have seen how patriarchy has shaped this country you will not find it hard to agree that we are like the wives of the ones who only use us for their own gain. We give more than we receive. Yes, this is an emotional rant because I may be dragged to court forcing me to pay for using the road I use to go to work. 

Today I tweeted to my mentor and good friend Dan Moyane (@danmoyane) that the songs our mothers sang at community meeting in the 80s and late 90s are still relevant even now. Senzeni na? What have we done? The difference now is that even white South Africans might have to learn the words soon, because we are boarding the same boat. Even though some are more disadvantaged than others, we are herded into the same corner. We are the wives of the governors. Pregnant, barefoot and in the kitchen. That is the conclusion that e-Tolls brought me to. In Nelson Mandela's name, Amen. 

How we breed rapists

 It is in everyday's conversation. I had lunch with a 22-year-old young man other day. Who referred to all the women he dated as "this chicka or these chicks". He misconstrued the women's courage to tell him he is handsome as being desperate  to be in bed with him. With that mindset, you are unlikely to find him disturbed by the war against our women. This morning I came across a tweet from someone I'm following. And it read "this woman didn't do my laundry". I think I am qualified to be over-sensitive when I come across men who will make women look and sound like our labourers.  

It is a generational crisis. We are all comfortable with women locked in this box and stereotyped. Some of us grow up with single mothers. Strong women who take up the role of both parents. Some do it so well. And then you will have a child raised by that woman demanding to know where or who his father is.

Society dictates that we should know both our parents, even though when the other one was a mere sperm donor. Never cared for you. But you want to know about him. For me that is the beginning of raping our women. Making our mothers feel inadequate. Carrying them back to the heartache they protected us from. Our communities breed rapists all the time.  We just don't see it that way. 

The very few women that are tired of being submissive are stoned with words that I don't think I would get the spelling right. And the famous one is "they have no respect". It's because they have unshackled themselves from patriarchy that we embrace from our Parliament to our workplaces. We don't see how we contribute to rape, but we do. We wait for 16 Days of activism against women and children abuse to pledge support to our women. We use Women's Day to mock them instead of celebrating the few that swim against the tide of sexism, racism and bigotry. 

Think about it. We breed rapists everyday. We just don't realise it. Why? Because we refuse to highlight the important role women play in our society. We are okay with them just being the providers but not leaders. Those who are leaders still have to be submissive and subscribe to patriarchy. We breed generations of women abusers. All the time. 

Dr Louise Mabille's racist remarks translated by Karin Labuschagne

The dreaded article was published on the webpage of reactionary group Praag, hosted by Dan Roodt.

One of the strangest phenomena of our time, is the widely spread tendency of feminists to not associate themselves with the non-Western, Africa and non-white population in general. Add to this the Muslims as well (of all things!). Gay activists also adhere to this occasionally.  On the praag website, we came across two outspoken ex-South Africans who had settled in the Netherlands and who would defend anything as long as it was not white, manly or Cristian. 

In the last few decades a strong joint discourse developed in which women, non-whites, non-Christian, homosexuals and the disabled are all stereotyped as disadvantaged. This discourse naturally got a strong injection from the existence of deconstruction, which created a convenient terminology of the One and the Other. Although this theory holds a certain academic legitimacy - it for example had a strong influence on the Afrikaans literature - it also lends itself to a strong pseudo-intelectualism. 

All that lives and breathes now think that they are making an impression when they stand up for some or other "oppressed" and when they show their "openness" to the "Other". In practice, they normally use "safe" targets, such as the legitimate politically correct. There are several examples of this. Journalists like Christi van der Westhuizen and Hannelie Booysens know that their work will be published, when they challenge Dan Roodt, Afrikaners, the church, the USA, Capitalism and all the other suspects - and praise the leftists.

'Of course it would be far easier to moan about "Calvinism", than ask the question of whether the rape of babies is becoming a cultural phenomenon under the black population."

Leftist feminists conveniently avoid the real threats to women. We find, for example, that true feminist critique of Jacob Zuma and his crude patriarchal practices, shine in his absence. Personally, I would think that it would be a priority to make mince of a polygamist who has been accused of violent rape and in who's language a term for this violence never existed prior to the arrival of the whites. Not even referring to his charming habit of impregnating every woman that crosses his path.

Strangely enough, there is also an unwillingness to confront the Islam. On an international scale, we see the same thing. Earlier this year, David Cameron was in hot water because he dared say the dreaded word to an emotional member of the Labour Party: "My dear, please calm down." What a gruesome violation of human rights! Stalin would have been jealous! It is naturally easier to take on the silly Cameron than the ajatolla of the Iranian Muslim Brotherhood of Egypt. The media of the world also fell for Putin's retraction of explicit gay rights, while gay people are murdered in Zimbabwe and black lesbians are subjected to "corrective rape" in townships. 

'...it is truly time that feminists realize how Western they actually are'

I naturally have little sympathy with Cameron and I don't fully agree with Putin's stance. This phenomena however involves more than mere double standards. Leftist feminists have become so used to the privileges that the first wave of feminists (I'm referring to the 18th century theorists to the activists for women's education) brought, that they have forgotten that they themselves are a product of the Western Enlightenment, which again is rooted in Christian Humanism (a unique appreciation for all humans before God). Of course there are other traditions that are reconcilable with what we understand women's right to be today, but it is truly time that feminists realize how Western they actually are. It is a privilege to live in a culture where such utterances are not only tolerated, but seriously debated.

When one looks in detail, it is clear that feminism only originated from countries that had a heroic tradition with its culture of glorifying women, ie Western Europe. See for example the quote from Goethe, Das Ewig-Weibliche Zieht uns hinan, or rather: "The eternal female we exalt" by Dan Roodt in his article from August 9. The first wave of feminism which originated from there, also achieved what it wanted to, namely basic fair opportunities for women, in that ideas that were regarded as radical in the 1890s, are now regarded as being natural. Simone de Beauvoir's ideas seeming old-fashioned today, is evident of how it has normalized. And a lot of the ideas from Europe that were regarded as being revolutionary, were perceived as normal in South Africa. As Dan Roodt also points out, women owning land was something considered very normal in the Netherlands-Afrikaans tradition. While Jane Austen had to worry over the loss of housing, it was not a problem for Afrikaner women. 

Different from what may be believed, pioneering communities are more susceptible for strong women, since a merciless environment makes it critical to acknowledge every person's input. It is also an equally big myth that conservative Western cultures are characterized by misogyny. When one looks deeper, conservative parties have a better record of women in leadership than leftist parties do. Except for figures such as Margaret Thatcher and Golda Meir, there are more successful women in the Republican Party, than the Democratic Party in the USA. Feminists missed a big victory in the 2008 elections. Had they stopped their hysteria over Obama, they would have seen that it was truly significant that the lower class Republican was more than willing to vote for, Sarah Palin, a woman. And that without her having too much merit, and without them being subjected to too much gender theory.  Just as the Afrikaner male could have voted for a female mayor during the Great Depression. 

No culture is truly perfect, including the Afrikaner traditions. There are however few groups that had to own up to their sins like the Afrikaner male, and it is now the time to let them out of the accused dock. It may be an interesting exercise to read Simone de Beauvoir's Le deuxième sexe (The second sex) to see how the position of whites, men in particular, correspond with that in which the woman finds herself according to de Beauvoir's famous feminist piece.

The big mistake which feminists make, is to immediately associate with the leftist project. I am convinced that this is where the stereotypical feminist finds its existence. I stand under correction, but before Hanoi (Jane Fonda), the feminist was rather regarded as a legitimate intellectual, part of Europe's sophisticated, a discourse wherein the intellectual man could also participate. (I've got a friend with a HNP-background who is also very familiar with the work of  Virginia Woolf). This is how I have always thought of feminism and I have to express my disappointment with the behaviour of the French intellectual Hélène Cixous. I will never read her work again. (That's the French for you, as soon as you expect the best from them, they shock you with their worst).

What also offends the current feminism, is the forced association with the third world, socialism and even crime. If feminism has a future, supporters rather have to position themselves to the Right and address the true problems. The first step would be to acknowledge the Western civilization which gave birth to it, as well as white men that acknowledge and protect the value of women.

Further, there is still space for feminism, but it is Africa and the Middle-East that is in need of this. In the West, it can prosper as academic discourse and criticize phenomenons such as Fifty Shades of Rubbish. Or better, let it ask the question of how Women's Day can be celebrated when a woman is raped on a farm and set alight, without an outraged outcry in the country. Hélène Cixious may have the philosophical name, but in my opinion, it is Sunette Bridges who truly deals with political integrity.

Dr. Louis Mabille is a lecturer at the University of Pretoria. This column represents her own views and not that of the Department of Philosophy, or any other body of the University of Pretoria.

May the ghost of Charlotte Maxeke haunt Vavi, the ANC & others

The more than 20 000 brave women marched to the Union Buildings on this day in 1956. They chanted; "Wa thint'abafazi, Wa thint'imbokodo. Women from all walks of life defied the apartheid laws and united in their demands for a free country. Black, White, Coloured and Indian women told Prime Minister Strjdom that he will die if he messed with their freedom. Did these women give birth to a generation of cowards? Are we insulting the efforts these women by turning a blind eye to the injustices that continue even after the end of apartheid? 

The ANC Women's League of Angie Motshekga supported a man accused of rape. A man who admitted to having sex with an HIV positive woman without protection. I don't think this is the league that Charlotte Maxeke hoped for. You are likely to mistake township cemeteries for the FNB Stadium on weekends. Youngsters in coffins, straight to the grave. Aids still claim their lives. This is the reality of our times. But mothers, women leaders cannot wash their hands off a man who cannot be a role model to their already disempowered children. This is a different breed of leadership. Helen Suzman devoted her life to ending the plight of black women. Today's women leaders will sell their souls and conscience to partriarcy. They are submissive to the demons of this so-called democracy. 

Today should have been the day when we all marched to the Union Buildings to tell this ANC government that it too will die like the government of J.G Strjdom. We should have marched to Cosatu House and spit on their face for protecting Zwelinzima Vavi who abused his power to dominate a young, cash-strapped, female employee. He too did not use a condom. Our people are betrayed everyday. The legacy of Helen Suzman, Charlotte Maxeke, Ruth First and many heroines is drowning in the sea of corruption, misogyny and partriarchy. 

Our only hope was the media. Exposing the rot in the midst our leadership. But it is so difficult because newsrooms are filled with black people who are either aligned to government or those who are still disempowered because of our history. You also get whites who still have apartheid guilt and often let things slide. And then you get empowered whites who will tell it like it is. Only to be told they are racist. The issues of human rights disappear because of our politics. Journalists are supposed to be humanitarians that inject conscience and morals into the custodians of our Constitution. But we are tainted by our politics. No patriotism. We are trying to be politically correct. Women suffer,children are denied quality education and our gramdmothers die without dignity because of the health system we inheritted. 

Yesterday Winnie Madikizela-Mandela said she came to the conclusion that she was naive to think that the liberation struggle would free our people. That is an indictment on her ANC.

 The rich are behind their high walls and electric gates. The middle class have the baggage paying tax so the millions of the poor can get their social grants. Black men remain emasculated because they can't provide for their families. They take it out on their women. Children witness all this. And that's why we have a generational crisis. 

In the words of Prof. Pierre De Vos, National Women's Day is just another day for men to call the shots!

Nokuzola Mndende on the Mandela tug of war

The family feud over the bones of the deceased children of Nelson Mandela has raised many questions about the status of African culture and indigenous spirituality.

In fact this public spat is not only an embarrassment to the Mandela family and abaThembu in general, it is also a bad reflection on the status of African culture.

Speaking about individual rights to decide where the deceased should be buried is new in African culture and is based on arrogance and male chauvinism.

In fact it is an imported version of western democracy imposed over African culture, as decisions about custom and tradition are made by the family collective.

Family in African culture does not refer to the nuclear family as portrayed by the west; by family it means all those who are unified by blood irrespective of gender.

Each member has a specific role to play so that the clan remains solid.

The language used in the debates is also crucial as no one should speak in the first person singular (“my grandfather”). Madiba is a grandfather to many, no individual owns Madiba – he is the father to Makaziwe, Zenani, Zindzi; and a grandfather to their children including those of his deceased children.

One must understand that no children born within the family should be discriminated against, whether they are born of sons or daughters.

It is during certain cultural and social responsibilities that duties are allocated according to birthright, but all those decisions are controlled by the family. If any person abuses their responsibilities, it is also the responsibility of the family to remove that person and replace them with another on whom they agree.

The drama of the exhuming of bones by an individual from Qunu to Mvezo, and re-exhuming them to move them back to Qunu, poses some spiritual problems regarding the traditions of African culture, as the belief in “bones” is a basic cornerstone of Africans’ lives.

In African culture death does not mean the destruction of life. It marks the physical separation of the individual from this physical life and the joining of their soul with the spiritual world of ancestors.

This transition of the soul from this world to another world is reflected in the metaphors used when somebody has passed on which symbolise that life is not destroyed but is somewhere.

It is said that the person:

- Uhambile: Has left.

- Usishiyile: Has left us.

- Akasekho: Is not around around us but is somewhere else.

- Uswelekile: Is scarce.

Bones of the deceased are treated with respect and are believed to represent an immortal soul. Because of their immortal nature, bones are believed to have an ability to speak (ayathetha), hear (ayeva) when someone is speaking to them and see (ayabona).

When members of the family invoke ancestors they refer to them as the bones who are able to move (ayashukuma).

Ukushukuma (literally meaning shaking, moving or vibrating) of bones means that they are responding to whatever situation needs their intervention or response.

Because of these features, it is believed that ancestors (the bones) can reward, heal, protect and punish the living.

Ancestors, which are central in African beliefs, are symbolised by the bones that are “sleeping” peacefully. Disturbing the “bones” is not allowed as that implies disturbing the soul of the deceased.

So when someone dies far from home, the family of the deceased performs a ritual of spiritually bringing them home.

Using the branches of a special tree called umphafa as a spiritual medium, the family members take their spirit home.

They speak to them over their grave and tell them the reasons for these actions.

But in extreme cases, like when the deceased wants their remains to be taken “home”, or the family want to know where the “bones” of their loved one are “sleeping”, the family exhume the bones – but this is a collective decision.

Though am not a Mandela, I am an African who practises African culture and spirituality. I think the Mandela elderly should further educate the chief, as some of his statements are not correct.

His exclusion of his uDadobawo (father’s sister – not aunt) is a mistake. He said that because she is married she must not be involved with the Mandela issues.

That is a grave mistake.

Makaziwe is an umfazi (married woman) to her husband’s family; but she is an intombi (daughter) to the Mandela family. She has specific roles to play. Makaziwe, as the only surviving child of Madiba’s first marriage, has the right to intervene when she sees something going astray.

Makaziwe, Ndaba and Mandla should complement each other as there are many things they must do as a collective.

What Mandla has said in public about his Dadobawo is disrespectful. His statement is based on arrogance, male chauvinism and denial of the truth about the status of Makaziwe, his father’s sibling.

Makaziwe is Mandla’s father, in the true sense of the word, without looking at her gender.

Mandla also said he had the right to determine where his father should be buried. Again this is far from the truth. Makgatho has a father, siblings, and children who are Mandla’s siblings.

There is no way that an individual can claim the absolute right for somebody who is shared by many.

Moreover, Ndaba needs to take the lead despite being younger than Mandla. An heir to traditional leadership in African culture depends on the status of his mother. As Ndaba’s mother was married to Makgatho, Ndaba should lead the traditions and customs of Rholihlahla’s house.

Though Mandla is older, Ndaba qualifies to be given umkhonto (a sacred spear) to kill the sacred animals during their rituals. It is therefore out of line for Mandla to unilaterally exhume the bones.

Makaziwe in fact is the one who is closely attached to those bones as they all came from the same womb.

Finally the Mandela family must go to Madiba and tell him that the bones have been returned to Qunu, and that he will be buried next to his children, so that he can go peacefully.

They must also perform a ritual to apologise to the bones that have been so disturbed, so as to avoid their wrath.

- Mndende is the founder of the Dutywa-based Icamagu Institute in the Eastern Cape and a former religious studies lecturer at the University of Cape Town

 

For everyone who prays...

Homosexuals are doomed to spend eternity in hell. If they wanted to change, they could be healed of their evil ways. If they would turn away from temptation, they could be normal again if only they would try and try harder if it doesn't work. These are all the things I said to my son Bobby when I found out he was gay. When he told me he was homosexual my world fell apart. I did everything I could to cure him of his sickness. Eight months ago my son jumped off a bridge and killed himself. I deeply regret my lack of knowledge about gay and lesbian people. I see that everything I was taught and told was bigotry and de-humanizing slander. If I had investigated beyond what I was told, if I had just listened to my son when he poured his heart out to me I would not be standing here today with you filled with regret. I believe that God was pleased with Bobby's kind and loving spirit. In God's eyes kindness and love are what it's all about. I didn't know that each time I echoed eternal damnation for gay people each time I referred to Bobby as sick and perverted and a danger to our children. His self esteem and sense of worth were being destroyed. And finally his spirit broke beyond repair. It was not God's will that Bobby climbed over the side of a freeway overpass and jumped directly into the path of an eighteen-wheel truck which killed him instantly. Bobby's death was the direct result of his parent's ignorance and fear of the word gay. He wanted to be a writer. His hopes and dreams should not have been taken from him but they were. There are children, like Bobby, sitting in your congregations. Unknown to you they will be listening as you echo "amen" and that will soon silence their prayers. Their prayers to God for understanding and acceptance and for your love but your hatred and fear and ignorance of the word gay, will silence those prayers. So, before you echo "amen" in your home and place of worship. Think. Think and remember a child is listening.- Quote from the movie Praying for Bobby

The Promised Land: 100-year-old demon

When I was born it was already 70 years since we were condemned to poverty. We were deep in the belly of the evil apartheid era. I am now 30-years-old and that makes today 100 years since the Natives Land Act was passed into law by the all white rulers of our land. We were bulldozed and robbed of our land. Today, for the first time, I read the original text of this piece of legislation. I am bitter that this system was especially meant to set us back. Dumped into a generational crisis that lasted for this long. The dawn of democracy in 1994 was a pacifier for the outspoken. It was a glimmer of hope. Those who screamed "Mayibuye" at the height of apartheid had tears of joy when we cast a vote for the ANC government. 

Twenty years down the line, our mothers, fathers still wake up at 3am to make their way from the townships to the urban areas to report for duty only at 8am at the white man's mansion. That's how our mothers and fathers earn a living two decades after the end of apartheid. Our government is dragging its feet in fixing the injustices of the past. We remain shackled in poverty, crime and all the ills of society. This Natives Land Act helped apartheid to confine us to townships. Far away from the economic activities that would see more and more black people exiled in their own country. Banished! Usizi lo mntu'mnyama! 

The ghosts of apartheid today celebrate because their legacy has lasted till this day. The disempowered black nation remains poor. The custodians of the Constitutions are too afraid to confront this hundred-year-old-demon. Who will lead us to the promised land? The one written in the Freedom Charter. The land that was taken from us. Mayibuye iAfrika. Izwe lethu! Not yet uhuru! 

People's Power: Welcoming Power FM

Today South Africa is welcoming a new player in news and current affairs industry. Power FM is certainly a rare scene in this country. Talented journalists, broadcaster, media personalities and social scientists - working together in the same newsroom? And might I add they are all black and educated. It really gives me hope that Given Mkhari's brain child give black people in particular a new image in media. 

There are few intelligent, educated, progressive black women making regular appearance in the media. Whether it's Television or Radio, the face or voice of a black woman is crying, bereaved, poverty-stricken, raped and degraded. Always a victims of circumstance. Sadly it is our reality. Stories like that easily make it to the front page of the paper, top story on TV and you will hear it on your radio drive time show. 

I just pray that Power FM will highlight the plight of our people and go as far as offering solutions. Patriotism is very scarce in South African journalism. Everyone wants to be first with the story. And when I say patriotism I am not talking hiding the dirty laundry. Journalists must be community builders and not just prey on the misfortune of the disadvantaged South Africans. 

Today however, we celebrate the fruits of our Constitution through the birth of Power FM. South Africa can only benefit from more independent media. To Given Mkhari and the whole Power FM team, may God of your Ancestors give your strength, wisdom and success. Power to the people.

The Stench of death

Maybe we must start buying each other tombstones as Christmas gifts or even on Birthdays just so we all get to understand that we will some day leave this world. Death of our loved ones traumatise us forever. Sometimes even those who left us long go still have a massive impact on the lives we live today. The Holocaust, Sharpeville Massacre, the Iraqi War, the famine that plagued Ethoipia and Somalia. They changed the coure of many lives. We still commemorate the Rwanda genocide. Death has an enormous impact on all of us. It is still difficult to see it as part of life I'm sure not just for me, but for many others too. 

The passing of TV personality Vuyo Mbuli, was a serious wake up call for me. It was more of a text message from the universe. I had forgotten that we are not immortal. I had abandoned my mission to make a difference, to make a mark and embrace good old life. I was absorbed in the petty matters of the heart. Every spare second I had was spent on moping around, making excuses and feeling sorry for myself. I was blind to see the opportunities that Were just a stone-throw away. Days would go by without accomplishing a thing. Not even put a smile on someone else. I wanted great things that I did not work for. If ever I was caught solving problems, they wouldn't be my own. No peace of mind. 

I look at my elderly parents with a different eye now. I acknowledge that they will not be here with us forever. But that doesn't drive me into a depression state. It just helps me appreciate them more. Death has ironically become a life's lesson. 

My Tribute to Vuyo Mbuli (14 May 1967 to 18 May 2013)

Today we woke up of news that renowned broadcaster, Vuyo Mbuli died of a heart attack while watching a rugby match in Bloemfontein. To me, it was like I just lost a family member. His larger than life personality was on my TV screen every morning. It became a daily ritual to hear him deliver news before we go to school. Then I grew up, it became every morning before I go to work. Vuyo Mbuli, delivering news in the most unconventional way. There are those who were lucky enough to have had Vuyo say "O bosso wena" to them. This was an accolade to any extraordinary South African interviewed by Vuyo Mbuli. 

Anybody  who didn't know President Jacob Zuma's middle name Gedleyihlekisa, now knows because Vuyo always made it his mission to name him in full in all his bulletins. He did the same for Thabo Mvuyelwa Mbeki. It can be said that the 46-year-old TV personality was patriotic and took pride being a South African journalist, telling stories in ways that South Africans would find easy to consume. 

I did not know Vuyo personally, but when I worked at the SABC, still fresh from training to become a Sangoma. He saw me in my attire and beads, he made feel even more at home. Greeted me with respect and commended me for heeding a call that not so many in the "corporate world" would be proud to display. I thanked him with tears in my eyes. From that day when I met him on the SABC coridors we would greet and have small talk. He was a people's person. The security personnel at the SABC loved him. He would be late for make-up, held up downstaris chatting about soccer over the weekend. He could converse with anyone and would attempt speaking any South African language.

He loved saying Mintiro ya vulavula, that's Xitsonga for actions speak louder than words. His actions will be a legacy left for all of us to reflect and choose our own course. Some of his actions reported in the media were not pleasing. He made mistakes like all of us. Although the media would not tell us if he made up for his errors. The little I know is that he remained a committed father to his children. A few days ago I retweeted his tweet saying he was watching his child play soccer. A moment he clearly enjoyed. 

Vuyo Mbuli, rest in peace my brother. South Africa is poorer without you. 

Same story different angle

"You are a sangoma, gay, black and outspoken. That's reason enough for you to write a book chomie". That's one quote I heard from six different people in my big circle of good friends. I always LOL or just dismiss the idea. Being black was something out of hands, I had nothing to do with it. Although we all know that in this country, the colour ofmone's skin does help people make connclusions about what you could be all about. I make racial jokes all the time with my colleagues and friends. I think for me it's a way of recovering from the trauma. Letting go of being bitter and becoming a better human being. Like many black countrymen, I bear the scars of being called a kaffir and made to feel undeserving of my achievements by white schoolmates. Fought my battles and won them. Being black and gay meant that I had to work harder than black straight boys. Most of them were submissive to the white boys club and even spoke Afrikaans to please them. I was defiant. I am almost 30 years old now. I have a deent job and well educated. But I still find myself dealing with prejudice veiled with a fake smile. Prejudice on many different levels. When I went tomrenew my gym contract, the sales consultant asked me if my wife wouldn't be keen on joining me to gym. A wedding band on your left finger registers you as a straight man, married with children. The trouble of explaining that I am married to another man irritates more than it pains me. We have too many problems in this country. 

The stench of poverty lingers everywhere you go. And so I remind myself that last thing on people's minds is whether I am gay or not. The very same poverty, comes from the same place as the prejudice we experience almost on a daily basis. Our men are imasculated by poverty and exclusion from the economy that benefits only a few. And because heterosexism is our way of life, men are expected to fend for the women and children. Sucessful women are prejudiced. Almost taboo. I concluded that poverty breeds chauvinism and is also a roadblock for a new way of thinking. So, when heterosexism reigns in our community, do you still find it shocking that a lesbian woman is raped, mutilated and murdered? She does not fit in with what is expected of us all by society norms.

 When I heeded the call to become a Sangoma, I often found myself at crossroads. Many times, I would have to choose between becoming an activist first or a healer first. But I always remember that Samgomas have to play the role of a community builder. Despite being demonised by Christian doctrine, African traditional healing has millions and millions of subscibers. When a family discovers that they cannot bear children. The usual first port of call for divine intervention would be with a Sangoma. It pains me how women would always take the blame for not being able bear children. Perhaps that is how patriarchy programmed us all. The man being "the head ofnthe family" women often plead woth me not to tell their husbands they consulted without them. Women are delegated to the kitchen and to mind children. Even when it is know that women are often emotionally matured. There are credentials far more than maturity that should be reason enough for women to lead. My spirituality has been the referee in all my battles with tradition and custom that bother me. Culture has to evolve. But I bargain with the grandmothers. My ancestors.