I am not like the guys and girls of June 16 in 1976. No. Let’s put it this way; I am a bit more humble, you know. In other words, I know when to applaud at the Baxter. I also know when to be well-behaved and tolerant, and civil in demanding situations. I know.
But now it is the end of June, the month of the youth… I don’t know how to express this without sounding like an old timer. But I really think we need a national youth fund that would guarantee the youth are assisted academically. There is no intention here to articulate academia as the sole method of getting the youth out of the current quagmire – it is merely, I think, only one of the ways in which we can debate the current difficulty.
Between me and you, my eye on the youth in Khayelitsha is the reason for this concern. Brothers and sisters, I am not saying the same might not be true about the youth, say in Bonteheuwel, Mitchells Plain or Sea Point. I am merely insistent that you understand my Khayelitsha observation as more than a Cape issue but a national commentary.
“Khaltsha”, as the place is called, is the second largest township after Soweto. (Don’t ask me the source of this statistic). Now we all know what happened in Soweto on June 16, 1976!
Fairly speaking, the Soweto crowd are a civilised crew. (Honestly, I lived there in the 1980s). I am not arguing that the Khaltsha crowd be seen as vulgar, no, the line of suggestion seems to want to say that there is a consciousness in South Africa that will try and help Khayelitsha away from the paths towards disaster. In other words, I feel that it is a national duty that asks our country to glance at Khayelitsha with an eye that remembers the South Western Townships of 1976.
I am not a sociologist, but one does not need a qualification in social science to know there is something amiss there. First, socially the Khayelitsha moment is ONLY the shebeen. I am not saying that in Khayelitsha we do not play football. We do, but subjectively said, we, in my opinion, spend a greater time in the shebeen than on the soccer or rugby field. Personally, I do not recall myself on a soccer or rugby field in Khayelitsha – to watch or play. Alarmingly I cannot recall a friend or relative narrating to me an experience that involves sport in this township. That is uncomfortable.
The place has a multitude of artists who feature well in the national arts landscape, but there is no place in the township to perform or exhibit. I am humbly trying to explain that there is no venue to see the arts. There is no nightclub in the second-largest township in the country. What is worse, is that I have not heard anybody raising this as a concern. Nobody.
In Gugulethu, you might recall, there was once a nightclub called the Yellow Door. I don’t know what happened to the Yellow Door. I do need a social scientist to explain to me how one can expect a healthy sociology in a place like this. The most popular social space here is the shebeen.
In the shebeen the method of entertainment is the juke box. I have never gone to a place to watch a band play or see a play. Never.
They like me. Every time they see me at the shebeen I am reminded of an article in this or that paper, praised and offered a drink which with all respect I take with glee.
I am not a politician. I am a writer with a political consciousness. I feel our politicians need to take this township into con- sideration to rescue its people from social demise. I have also noticed that the number of academic places here is equal to the number of people who are not educated. It is a lot. Why? I am asking. I think we need to find a means to deal with it as a national issue.
In other words, I am suggesting that the democratic forces, nationally and regionally, begin to talk about a way of looking at this in a serious manner. It is admitted that the tendency is obviously one of the apartheid babalaas moments that we need to deal with, but I am close to it and let me say it, very uncomfortable about it.
Maybe government, for now, shouldn’t be our point of focus. Maybe it is time to demand that we apply organic intellectualism to confront Khayelitsha and other similar moments. Remember Ernesto Che Guevara was not from Cuba. He was Argentinian. He studied for a medical degree in Argentina.
When in Cuba and the social situation pointed at a crisis there, that Argentinian applied his medical expertise as a human being on that island and rescued many lives.
The South African moment demands that we see this as reality in that same light.
I wish to plead that our first area of urgency be seen as enlightenment; education in other words. I submit that we should emphasise another perspective on education. Education is not only to be seen as that brand new car and a posh house – it is more. It is also compassion and a dedication to the marvels of this essence called life.
The beautiful house and car should complement that projection called life. I am humbly suggesting the number one essence at this time should be an effort to educate our people. We need to develop a national fund that will assist the government to deliver education to our people. A beautiful dynamic education that reminds us that the big essence we should not forget is human. We should remind ourselves that this is not mere rhetoric, but the marvellous dance we must do to keep a consciousness on the many intrigues of life.
The many lessons we received from the South African struggles to elevate life to the beauties of human experience are, in my opinion, the marvel that is our torch in a very dark world.
We need to clasp that torch in our hands and sometimes the depths of our hearts. Remember that it is not the so-called Republic of South Africa that carries our many essences.
We are attempting an example for the many futures of the world.