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.