'We need to be our own liberators'

Shacks are seen at an informal settlement near Cape Town. After fervent human rights speeches by politicians and spirited Human rights Day celebrations, we will all go back to the relative comfort of our homes, says the writer. File picture: Nicky Milne/Thomson Reuters Foundation

Shacks are seen at an informal settlement near Cape Town. After fervent human rights speeches by politicians and spirited Human rights Day celebrations, we will all go back to the relative comfort of our homes, says the writer. File picture: Nicky Milne/Thomson Reuters Foundation

Published Mar 18, 2017

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We can no longer blame apartheid for the lack of socio-economic progress among black people, writes Tutu Faleni.

It has become simple to predict the trend of public conversations about Human Rights Day.

The dominant public discourses will rightfully begin with some reflection on our painful past, then an analysis of the difficult struggle that we as a nation waged against colonialism and apartheid and then how through negotiations and universal suffrage we ushered in a non-racial democracy.

The public conversations will not be complete without expressing strong appreciation for our constitution as one of the best among free nations of the world.

Like many other people would do, such conversations would underplay socio-economic realities which make us the most unequal society in the world.

After fervent human rights speeches by politicians and spirited celebrations, at the end of the day we will all go back to the relative comfort of our homes. When few of us find comfort and security in our suburban homes, the majority of poor South Africa will have to make do with a roof of their mkhukhus (shacks), RDP houses and the historic four-roomed houses provided by the apartheid regime.

Twenty-three years after democracy, not much has changed for those who live in townships and the ever-mushrooming informal settlements which start just after the Cape Town Airport and end right at the country's northernmost town, Musina.

The dominant public narratives on human rights will blame the slow pace of socio-economic transformation on the legacy of apartheid and, as usual, white South Africans will be reminded of their position of white privilege.

These conversations will remind people that the “real enemy of the people” is white monopoly capital and those who in many ways work to protect it.

I often wonder how politicians and commentators find it so easy to blame history and “monopoly white capital” for the growing poverty among black South Africans. That the legacy of apartheid has resulted in unequal distribution of wealth cannot be denied. But those who insist on promoting a mentality that blames white people for all the South African challenges are not only misdirecting the struggle for economic freedom, but compromising collective endeavours aimed at attaining a South Africa which offers opportunity, growth and development to all its children irrespective of race, colour, class or religion.

The dominant narratives on human rights have shied away from interrogating a mentality among black people that perpetuates and institutionalises poverty. Some have come to accept that being trapped in a circle of poverty is fait accompli and that no human endeavour, no matter how well-intentioned, can take black people out of their misery.

This kind of poverty mentality created all sorts of subcultures in black communities which perpetuate the myth that black people are inferior to their white counterparts. The macro-economic policy of the governing party has contributed to the creation of a new generation of black elites who openly display their newly acquired symbols of wealth such as luxury German cars in the dusty township streets.

Such a situation has created a dog-eat-dog environment in which black people who are perceived to be materially successful become targets of common criminals.

If they are favoured, they are respectfully called “ngamla” (township slang for a rich white person). Most of the “ngamlas” acquired their money through government tenders. There is nothing wrong with acquiring government tenders, but there is everything wrong when such tender processes are manipulated to benefit those close to the governing party.

But worse happens when the tender system is used to steal money meant for the poor, often when goods and services are overpriced by greedy “tenderpreneurs”. The rapid emergence of tenderpreneurs with their instant millions has killed the ability of black people to be innovative entrepreneurs.

The opulent display of wealth by some tenderpreneurs has resulted in a situation where some decent youth in the townships have given up on life. A mindset of helplessness takes root and kills the simple human spirit of wanting to achieve and become somebody.

Poverty of the mind is further illustrated by the tendency of young schoolgirls to have a number of children so as to earn a reasonable child support grant. I'm told some of the young mothers use most of their money to buy alcohol.

The new black elite doesn't only enjoy the rare privilege of being called ngamlas, but even in their homes their children speak English with an accent. They might be materially wealthy, but having thrown their mother tongues out of the window they have become culturally poor.

It’s undeniably a subculture that promotes inferiority of African languages and embraces English as the dominant language even in African homes. It’s no more “the system” that imposes a particular language on black people, but it's black people who choose to be in a state of enslavement (as insinuated by Ngugi wa Thiong'o) by choosing English as the only medium of communication in their homes.

It seems some poor people in black communities are struggling to shake off a culture characterised by mental poverty and that those who have new money use it to access the English way of life and accent.

An honest reflection on human rights should compel us to ask serious questions about our present and future as a people, questions such as what have we become as black people 23 years after democracy and what happened to a South Africa which would provide hope and an opportunity, especially to young black women and men who had high expectations after the 1994 elections?

Our esteemed former deputy chief justice of the Constitutional Court, Dikgang Moseneke, offers sound advice on these soul-searching questions about our socio-economic condition as black people: “After all is done and dusted, each young person is her/his own liberator in the personal space but so, too, together with others, in the public and social enterprise. No young person, and indeed no nation, may outsource to others the task of achieving meaningful and inclusive freedom, least still to those who wield political or other public power. Each is her/his own liberator.”

The era of blaming apartheid for lack of socio-economic progress of black people is done and over. We need to take responsibility as our own liberators.

* Dr Tutu Faleni (PhD), DA member of the North West provincial legislature, writes in his personal capacity.

** The views expressed here are not necessarily those of Independent Media.

Saturday Star

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