Ever wondered what it’s like to be a famous person in the age of social media? Or what it might be like to be close family of those whose lives total strangers take liberties with on social media platforms?
I don’t really know how to approach this, but I find myself worrying a lot about family, especially children, at a time when the privacy curtain of people’s lives gets ripped apart by invisible attackers on social media platforms.
My first thought is almost always the children. Then the elders. When an uncomfortable story breaks, I worry about all the old folks. We rural folk are answerable to entire clans, not just mom and dad.
The confusion a report is likely to cause and all of the pain that follows reverberates far beyond what the happy-go-lucky character typing LOL from the safe anonymity of a social media handle could ever imagine. I can’t begin to think how this works when that privacy violation happens to be based on a completely made-up smear story.
I must admit I’m becoming a really boring and backward villager who hardly shows up for all the nice things people invite me to. The usual excuse is I spend my time between two provinces and can’t add the pressure of a high society diary to the commute.
The other real reason might just be that I’m quite awkward with fashion and have a deep fear of the style police. I’m likely to show up to every red carpet in my daily traditional red minwenda. Not very exciting. So it’s easier to decline and stay away from the spotlight.
LOSING FACE: Basetsana Kumalo. Picture: Itumeleng English/African News Agency (ANA)
Just this week I found myself procrastinating about responding to three different requests from some really sweet people. It’s a bit of a tightrope. I have always been very open to sharing a little bit of myself with an audience or engaging on issues I feel passionate about.
Fairness in the arts is one of those. The other is cultural heritage. I understand the role media and the PR folks play in supporting one’s work within the creative sector.
It is through such support that one’s work gets the audience it requires. Being a self-published author, I got to appreciate this media support when I launched a book last year. It was also this kind of support that gave our very low-budget film Elelwani a profile we could never have afforded a few years back.
I get it - the media is a friend of artists. We lean on each other for a variety of reasons.
I love reading profiles of my favourite stars in magazines. I also enjoy watching television interviews of social icons, be they in the arts or not. I remember almost each of the interviews on Dali Tambo’s People Of The South. I also remember the many memorable interviews Felicia Mabuza-Shuttle had with legends like Miriam Makeba, Hugh Masekela, Busi Mhlongo, Dolly Rathebe and my other greats.
Goodness, I even remember the Tribute magazine profiles from Maud Motanyane’s days. I worked as a presenter on both radio and television - I too, was once that person who had to depend on someone saying yes to my interview request for work to succeed.
You are probably wondering then what could have turned me into this media-shy person who would rather be unavailable for comment than take an opportunity to fairly represent myself. I don’t think I sat down and decided on any day that media was a scary space for me and my soul. It’s been more a case of watching a certain level of recklessness taking over where ethical consideration should lead.
It might be that I do not possess the kind of carefree attitude one needs to handle the undesirable. I probably need to live in a cave to avoid being misrepresented, misconstrued or misunderstood.
It is as unavoidable as the internet itself. Social media is in charge now, so it doesn’t take much to take the most innocent of comments and build a whole non-existent story out of it.
Qwerty power is an amazing thing now. It has otherwise thorough publications and well-established media houses abandoning any form of fair process in an attempt to match and ride on social media trends. Please call me out on my double standards right here, because I practically live on Twitter and enjoy following people’s lives on Instagram.
I’m part of that very world that I claim scares me. I have always wondered how someone handles the fake death announcements that get made ever so often. Or the pure hate that gets thrown at famous people on a daily basis.
I don’t know how one handles having their entire life out there for total strangers to dissect on a Sunday morning. I have never been brave in the face of such. I’m the type who goes into hiding when life whacks me across the face. I retreat to a safe space with no newspaper or cellphone network. I’ve yet to learn how to handle things differently.
Fortunately, while life has dealt me its fair share of trials and seasons of total ruthlessness, I have not had to deal with the type of malice, smears and downright hurtful things that my friends and their families have been subjected to in these past weeks. I found myself not quite knowing who to direct my hurt and anger at, as a noisy despicable attack was unfolding against my friends the Kumalos. Yes, I’m name-dropping in the midst of my incoherent ramblings.
My mind always races to family when unfortunate reports break about anyone, even those I don’t particularly know. Many of us love the work we do but are really accidentally famous.
I’m one of those people who prefer to put the work I do forth, and never the life I live away from the bright lights of show business. Our work may put us constantly in the spotlight. We might even enjoy the beautiful perks that come with that at times.
I can’t for the life of me imagine what those under attack must go through in trying to protect their loved ones from constant onslaught.
I’m quite pleased that the Kumalos are taking legal steps to protect themselves from defamatory attacks. They are fortunate to have the resources required to do so. What they don’t have is a magic wand to shield themselves from the pain that comes with such personal invasion. I don’t believe they have a shield big enough to protect their families and children from this pain.
Picture: Itumeleng English/African News Agency (ANA)
The thing is, we sign up for this public profile thing. Our families find themselves affected even though they never signed up for it. When you go out of your way to be hurtful to that famous person, is there something inside of you that reminds you that it is not just them you hurt?
The celebrity may have the mechanism to deal with such; their families have no idea where to begin. There’s only so much courts can resolve. When all the legal processes are over, one thing will still remain.
The hurt and pain caused won’t be wiped away. It cuts deep and it scars.
While social media can be all fun and games, perhaps it’s time we took a step back to evaluate what our mindless participation in dragging down people we do, don’t even know what it does to those they love.
I’m constantly reminded that whatever gets put out there, whether it’s true or not, the internet never forgets. Our children, no matter how shielded, grow to read it all.
* Masebe is an award-winning actor and author of the book The Heart Knows.