Once upon a time (not so long ago) in a land (we sometimes wish) was far away, a woman called Helen wandered into a forest (more like a jungle) and discovered seven men who were dwarfed by a number of problems. This was the start of what would be a traumatic four years for poor Helen, who herself was suffering already from democraticellusion, backtrackingquickly and a number of other ailments.
The first man, sir shower-alot, had created much enthusiasm for himself largely by playing on the dreams of the masses that they would one day be able to have an ego like his. He had a number of wives, girlfriends and assorted other womanly 'possessions' with whom he had his way, when he wanted and how he wanted. He also had a superpower which allowed him to remove the traces of disease and illness, simply by showering. His power was so strong that he didn't even mention anything about protex or dettol but was able to use regular showers for these purposes.
The second man, sir foot-in-the mouth, also had created a great deal of energy around him. Sadly for him though, this energy was not always positive, but this did not stop him from enjoying his position as general chatterbox and know-little. He was dwarfed by his lack of knowledge, and desire to use the anger of others to fuel his own energy. He said what he thought, even when what he thought was not at all sensible or useful.
The third man, sir i'm-the-boss-not-you, created many problems for Helen. He refused to share any of the jungle resources with her, until she did exactly what the dwarf colony wanted - even if she had very good reasons not to. He often used his role of jungle king to communicated the messages of the dwarf colony to her, and sadly to the world beyond the jungle. He was dwarfed by his inability to share.
The fourth man, sir inandoutof-jail, also had magical powers. This man, through surrounding himself with other men who had superpowers (like sir shower-alot), was able to move through physical barriers, like jail cells. The combined power of his and other superpowers allowed him to fly above things (even the law). However, sir inandoutof-jail was only holidaying in the jungle, because he actually had a house somewhere else, and was a bit shaky from the jungle noises. He was dwarfed by charges.
Upon meeting these men, Helen was slightly alarmed. She wondered about how the jungle was run, and how she too would become part of the leadership of the jungle. She thought very long and hard about this question. Despite not wanting to act badly, she came to a conclusion.
If its monkey business that runs the jungle, she just had to act like one of the monkeys herself. And if it is male monkeys who run the jungle, best she surround herself with some of her own monkeys from her land.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Rape and you
Last night I watched a harrowing documentary on rape in the DRC.
In it literally hundreds of women were shown who had been raped by soldiers, by rebels, by boys and by 'men'. They had been raped by bodies, with guns, with anything that these 'men' could find. The women formed groups together to talk about their rapes, and the hospitals were filled with new women each day who had new stories to tell. Their voices grew from whispers to shouts as they told them. They spoke in french, which I understood, and in local dialects, which I didn't. But even when I didn't understand their language their voices cracked with emotions that I could feel.
The producer and a local assistant managed to interview some of the men in both the rebel groups and the army. They had all raped, were proud to list the numbers and explained their rapes in terms of a magic potion that they took, which required rape to work. The laughed at each others reasons. One man, about 25, said that if someone wanted to rape his mother, and he knew it was for the good of the congo.
Where do I start? I am not sure if all the education in the world could help me to begin to formulate a plan to help these women or to change things there. I was frustrated at my own inability to do anything, and all I wanted was to embrace those women and show that there is love for them, and not only hatred. The sheer scale of the problem and the smallness of my reach made me literally shake.
So what can we do? What can each individual person do?
I'm trying to help by talking about it in this space, and through the work that I do. What are you doing?
In it literally hundreds of women were shown who had been raped by soldiers, by rebels, by boys and by 'men'. They had been raped by bodies, with guns, with anything that these 'men' could find. The women formed groups together to talk about their rapes, and the hospitals were filled with new women each day who had new stories to tell. Their voices grew from whispers to shouts as they told them. They spoke in french, which I understood, and in local dialects, which I didn't. But even when I didn't understand their language their voices cracked with emotions that I could feel.
The producer and a local assistant managed to interview some of the men in both the rebel groups and the army. They had all raped, were proud to list the numbers and explained their rapes in terms of a magic potion that they took, which required rape to work. The laughed at each others reasons. One man, about 25, said that if someone wanted to rape his mother, and he knew it was for the good of the congo.
Where do I start? I am not sure if all the education in the world could help me to begin to formulate a plan to help these women or to change things there. I was frustrated at my own inability to do anything, and all I wanted was to embrace those women and show that there is love for them, and not only hatred. The sheer scale of the problem and the smallness of my reach made me literally shake.
So what can we do? What can each individual person do?
I'm trying to help by talking about it in this space, and through the work that I do. What are you doing?
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Where are the women Helen?
Helen Zille, leader of the DA and Western Cape premier, has chosen a women-free (herself the exception), pale-male cabinet. Needless to say, I am a bit disappointed.
One of the most difficult thing that I have found working with teams of women, is that their belief that other women are their competition rather than their allies often stunts women's own efforts at achieving success. Whilst I respect that Zille wants the best team, she should be more aware of the detrimental effect that such an unconstitutional cabinet has on aspiring young girls and women.
If she herself wants to remain a credible leader, she should pay respect to the constitutional requirements and laws of South Africa - after all, she is always first to criticise others for ignoring them.
One of the most difficult thing that I have found working with teams of women, is that their belief that other women are their competition rather than their allies often stunts women's own efforts at achieving success. Whilst I respect that Zille wants the best team, she should be more aware of the detrimental effect that such an unconstitutional cabinet has on aspiring young girls and women.
If she herself wants to remain a credible leader, she should pay respect to the constitutional requirements and laws of South Africa - after all, she is always first to criticise others for ignoring them.
(Mis)lead?
A dinner conversation sparked the question 'where are the real leaders' globally at this time? The conversation began with a discussion of Jacob Zuma and revolved around the table's disappointment with his inability to publicly denounce violence against women, and with his weak commitment to rejecting corruption. As conversations about Zuma tend to do, this one turned to allegations of conspiracy against him, Julius Malema's big mouth, and other (the list is too long) flaws in the current system that have left many South Africans quaking in their crocs at the thought of our new president.
The question was asked - but who else is there to lead SA? Would any of the other public figures be fit to do a better job than master machine gun? There was a brief (that's all we needed) discussion, but the results weren't that promising. Of all the public figures we talked about, there wasn't one who stood out as exception. Yes there are those, like Helen Zille, who have impacted much more proactively than current ANC leaders. There are others like Patricia De Lille who have stood up for what they believed in and for democratic rights. But which of these, or any others, are people that you look at and say - 'there is nobody else I'd rather vote for', or 'I have so much confidence in this person', or even just 'I think they can do it'. Thus the conversation ended in despondency.
Obama had American hopes at unprecedented levels. Americans and International spectators really believe that he can make change in their lives. They believe that he is someone who has his head and heart in the right place, and who will deliver on his promises. So far, it looks as if their predictions are right.
Can there really only be one Obama? Where are our African shining stars? Where are the leaders who we feel proud of, and who incite us to feel pride in ourselves and our countries? Perhaps the South African masses felt this about Zuma. He is arguably South Africa's most popular political figure. But many women, and many of the SA middle classes, feel as though their hope for an equal future has been stolen from them.
I went home and thought about my own class at University, and of other students my age who were politically involved on campus. I can identify people in those groups who could be equally dangerous to democratic values, or equally to make the decisions that need to be made. But I can also identify some real potential for fearless, committed leaders who will make change here if they decide to stay.
How sad that I will have to wait more than twice as long as I've already lived for these people to get a chance at president, party leader or MP.
Perhaps South Africa's problem then is that it does not engage with these young minds enough? Rigorous arguments and discussion of political theory and political practice are happening every day in our country, and perhaps we need to extend these discussions to the upper echelons rather than allow them to dictate the demise of our open democracy to us.
In fact, not perhaps, we do.
The question was asked - but who else is there to lead SA? Would any of the other public figures be fit to do a better job than master machine gun? There was a brief (that's all we needed) discussion, but the results weren't that promising. Of all the public figures we talked about, there wasn't one who stood out as exception. Yes there are those, like Helen Zille, who have impacted much more proactively than current ANC leaders. There are others like Patricia De Lille who have stood up for what they believed in and for democratic rights. But which of these, or any others, are people that you look at and say - 'there is nobody else I'd rather vote for', or 'I have so much confidence in this person', or even just 'I think they can do it'. Thus the conversation ended in despondency.
Obama had American hopes at unprecedented levels. Americans and International spectators really believe that he can make change in their lives. They believe that he is someone who has his head and heart in the right place, and who will deliver on his promises. So far, it looks as if their predictions are right.
Can there really only be one Obama? Where are our African shining stars? Where are the leaders who we feel proud of, and who incite us to feel pride in ourselves and our countries? Perhaps the South African masses felt this about Zuma. He is arguably South Africa's most popular political figure. But many women, and many of the SA middle classes, feel as though their hope for an equal future has been stolen from them.
I went home and thought about my own class at University, and of other students my age who were politically involved on campus. I can identify people in those groups who could be equally dangerous to democratic values, or equally to make the decisions that need to be made. But I can also identify some real potential for fearless, committed leaders who will make change here if they decide to stay.
How sad that I will have to wait more than twice as long as I've already lived for these people to get a chance at president, party leader or MP.
Perhaps South Africa's problem then is that it does not engage with these young minds enough? Rigorous arguments and discussion of political theory and political practice are happening every day in our country, and perhaps we need to extend these discussions to the upper echelons rather than allow them to dictate the demise of our open democracy to us.
In fact, not perhaps, we do.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Say What???
Julius Malema, ANC jester, yesterday described Helen Zille, Western Cape premier and head of the D.A., as a 'racist little girl'. Oh my days.
I have had enough of stomaching the ridiculous, aggressive, violence inciting rubbish that Julius Malema has to spit out at any opportunity. Can anyone describe a time when he has said something positive, constructive or dare I say, useful?
I returned from the UK after a 3 month holiday in February. It was interesting being over there because you hear nearly no news about South Africa, save for a blip now and then about Mandela. But since the exit of Mbeki and the hasty rise of Zuma and Malema, SA has been in the news more and more frequently. The sad thing is that the bulletins about SA are usually followed by a deep sigh, head shake and/or a nervous cough. Western news sources have no means to understand how our highest powered figures cannot get a sentence out without being offensive.
So how do they get away with it? Every time? While at the same time feeling it within their right to retaliate when ever someone has 2c to contribute about him. Zuma is even suing British newspaper the guardian because they said he had been convicted of corruption, rather than he was allegedly corrupt. Bollocks to that!
We may have freedom of speech, but when do we as voters and SA citizens have a right to say 'shut the f*** up'. Does anyone remember their mum's saying 'if you don't have anything useful to say, don't say anything at all'? I do. There are millions of South Africans who have positive, useful, ubuntu-esque things to say every day. Can we stop giving publicity to comic-figures and give some to the clever people? Please!
I have had enough of stomaching the ridiculous, aggressive, violence inciting rubbish that Julius Malema has to spit out at any opportunity. Can anyone describe a time when he has said something positive, constructive or dare I say, useful?
I returned from the UK after a 3 month holiday in February. It was interesting being over there because you hear nearly no news about South Africa, save for a blip now and then about Mandela. But since the exit of Mbeki and the hasty rise of Zuma and Malema, SA has been in the news more and more frequently. The sad thing is that the bulletins about SA are usually followed by a deep sigh, head shake and/or a nervous cough. Western news sources have no means to understand how our highest powered figures cannot get a sentence out without being offensive.
So how do they get away with it? Every time? While at the same time feeling it within their right to retaliate when ever someone has 2c to contribute about him. Zuma is even suing British newspaper the guardian because they said he had been convicted of corruption, rather than he was allegedly corrupt. Bollocks to that!
We may have freedom of speech, but when do we as voters and SA citizens have a right to say 'shut the f*** up'. Does anyone remember their mum's saying 'if you don't have anything useful to say, don't say anything at all'? I do. There are millions of South Africans who have positive, useful, ubuntu-esque things to say every day. Can we stop giving publicity to comic-figures and give some to the clever people? Please!
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Gay abandon(ment)...
Burundi, like South Africa, has a constitution that protects human rights. Part of this protection of human rights is the protection of people's right to practise their cultural beliefs. This is often easier said than done. Western-based conceptions of human rights often differ from local-based beliefs about rights and when these two conceptions clash it becomes difficult to judge which one takes precedence.
The Burundian government passed a law this week criminalising homosexuality. Any consensual sexual activity between two people of the same sex is punishable by two to three years in prison. President Nkurunziza described homosexuality as a 'curse'. Despite these deep seated beliefs that the president felt no shame in voicing publicly, the document was signed in secret with many human rights group unaware that it had even been drafted until after the fact. Governmental bodies relied on their 'culture' and 'customs' to legitimate the introduction of this law. It is described by Human Rights Watch as a 'disappointing step backward'.
This legitimation of human rights violations in the name of culture seems like an obvious move to slip out of the realm of criticism on the part of the leadership. Who is legitimately able to criticise culture? It is created as an a-historical, unchallengeable 'thing' that does not allow for negotiation and 'has always been so'. That is exactly the beauty of this move for governments and human rights naysayers. They can rely on something unquestionable to allow them to make statements that are politically incorrect (at the best of times) and violence inciting (at the worst of times), and cannot face any criticism for it because it is itself politically incorrect, at least in South Africa, to criticise or question another person's culture openly. So we are left biting our tongues in the hopes that someone will do something about it.
Here at home we have had no shortage of similar dangerous statements made by various political figures. For example, in the rape trial of Jacob Zuma, misogyny was the word of the day. He suggested that because of his status as a 'Zulu' boy, he was culturally expected to have sex with a woman who sat with her legs uncrossed. It was culturally rude not to have sex with a woman who so 'obviously' was 'ready' for it. Similarly he stated that as a young Zulu boy, if a gay person stood in front of him he would knock him down. He called gay people a 'disgrace'. Another prominent figure Manto Tshabalala-Msimang encouraged people to use 'cultural' remedies rather than anti-retroviral medicine when HIV positive.
Similarly, human rights are presented as inaliable, non-contingent and certain. Another universal worldview that perhaps doesn't fit into the lives of most people. They ensures that everyone is legally the same - a difficult goal to implement in a world where so few people are the same, and so few governments want to treat them that way. Like human rights, 'culture' exists and is perpetuated in the minds and beliefs of ordinary people. It is through their behaviour and actions that it is presented to us - intangible - with very real effects.
But the critical thing is that culture did not arise out of nothing. It has been moulded and sculpted by the powerful until it has met their needs and ends. It has been used as a story backdrop to ensure that people are caught up in the magic and unity of it, often without questioning the dangers it poses. Standardly 'othered' groups often remain othered by 'culture' and by legitimating fictions that seek to present it as unquestionable. When someone says that it is his cultural right to do something to another person it moves the debate about the rightness or wrongness of that action out of the sphere of logic or negotiation. The debate is ended and the winner takes it all.
So what can the ordinary person do when faced with trends of leadership that suggests disrespect and disregard, for the rights of homosexual people? How can each of us negotiate with the powerful and help them choose the right way to reshape culture for a more positive future?
My suggestion - talk. The most frustrating thing about about the Burundian case is the secrecy under which the whole thing has taken place. If your culture is something that you are proud of, then be proud, explain to others how it works and how you feel you are a part of it. More importantly, allow others to do the same.
When the time comes to make a choice between limiting others or freeing them, perhaps we can only hope that our governments will mimic our efforts, take a step back, and listen.
Footnote: For those of you interested in this story, or who want to make your voice heard to reject human rights abuses like this, please visit the human rights watch website - its incredibly proactive and useful.
The Burundian government passed a law this week criminalising homosexuality. Any consensual sexual activity between two people of the same sex is punishable by two to three years in prison. President Nkurunziza described homosexuality as a 'curse'. Despite these deep seated beliefs that the president felt no shame in voicing publicly, the document was signed in secret with many human rights group unaware that it had even been drafted until after the fact. Governmental bodies relied on their 'culture' and 'customs' to legitimate the introduction of this law. It is described by Human Rights Watch as a 'disappointing step backward'.
This legitimation of human rights violations in the name of culture seems like an obvious move to slip out of the realm of criticism on the part of the leadership. Who is legitimately able to criticise culture? It is created as an a-historical, unchallengeable 'thing' that does not allow for negotiation and 'has always been so'. That is exactly the beauty of this move for governments and human rights naysayers. They can rely on something unquestionable to allow them to make statements that are politically incorrect (at the best of times) and violence inciting (at the worst of times), and cannot face any criticism for it because it is itself politically incorrect, at least in South Africa, to criticise or question another person's culture openly. So we are left biting our tongues in the hopes that someone will do something about it.
Here at home we have had no shortage of similar dangerous statements made by various political figures. For example, in the rape trial of Jacob Zuma, misogyny was the word of the day. He suggested that because of his status as a 'Zulu' boy, he was culturally expected to have sex with a woman who sat with her legs uncrossed. It was culturally rude not to have sex with a woman who so 'obviously' was 'ready' for it. Similarly he stated that as a young Zulu boy, if a gay person stood in front of him he would knock him down. He called gay people a 'disgrace'. Another prominent figure Manto Tshabalala-Msimang encouraged people to use 'cultural' remedies rather than anti-retroviral medicine when HIV positive.
Similarly, human rights are presented as inaliable, non-contingent and certain. Another universal worldview that perhaps doesn't fit into the lives of most people. They ensures that everyone is legally the same - a difficult goal to implement in a world where so few people are the same, and so few governments want to treat them that way. Like human rights, 'culture' exists and is perpetuated in the minds and beliefs of ordinary people. It is through their behaviour and actions that it is presented to us - intangible - with very real effects.
But the critical thing is that culture did not arise out of nothing. It has been moulded and sculpted by the powerful until it has met their needs and ends. It has been used as a story backdrop to ensure that people are caught up in the magic and unity of it, often without questioning the dangers it poses. Standardly 'othered' groups often remain othered by 'culture' and by legitimating fictions that seek to present it as unquestionable. When someone says that it is his cultural right to do something to another person it moves the debate about the rightness or wrongness of that action out of the sphere of logic or negotiation. The debate is ended and the winner takes it all.
So what can the ordinary person do when faced with trends of leadership that suggests disrespect and disregard, for the rights of homosexual people? How can each of us negotiate with the powerful and help them choose the right way to reshape culture for a more positive future?
My suggestion - talk. The most frustrating thing about about the Burundian case is the secrecy under which the whole thing has taken place. If your culture is something that you are proud of, then be proud, explain to others how it works and how you feel you are a part of it. More importantly, allow others to do the same.
When the time comes to make a choice between limiting others or freeing them, perhaps we can only hope that our governments will mimic our efforts, take a step back, and listen.
Footnote: For those of you interested in this story, or who want to make your voice heard to reject human rights abuses like this, please visit the human rights watch website - its incredibly proactive and useful.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Pardon?
Today the Pretoria High Court granted an interim interdict preventing our acting president from pardoning over 100 prisoners. The original idea was that, in the spirit of the TRC, people who had been imprisoned for 'political crimes' could apply and be pardoned if the president (and a few others...) considered them worthy. Those who had already been denied amnesty by the TRC could not apply. So from the perpatrators side, it would be those who had not applied to the TRC and yet considered themselves worthy of an application for freedom. Given that many of the apartheid arrests were highly suspect and politically motivated this seemed like a fair idea, or at least one that is worthy of negotiation.
More suspect though is the way this all happens. Perhaps in Mbeki's quick departure from the presidency he managed to take his list of how it should all work out fairly with him in his pocket. Otherwise, I'm not sure if there really was ever a plan. It was supposed to be done in the spirit of the TRC. For those of you not familiar with the process don't expect to learn anything from this one.
The TRC encouraged both victims (survivors) and agents of apartheid violence to come forward, talk through the crime and the effects of it and reach a decision, with various parties, about what the next step would be. But most importantly, it was out in the open, names were heard and faces were seen. The hearings were public, and this publicity was part of the healing process.
It was not a case of blanket freedom for all, some cases of application for amnesty were rejected. In fact, of the over 6000 who applied, only around 850 were successful. The commission emphasized reconciliation and the revalation of 'truths', and 11 years after it handed in its report it is not clear whether the present government's incentives for these particular pardons are similar or discordant.
So what is different this time around?
What seems to be the top of the list for most critics is the unwillingness of the reference group (created by Thabo Mbeki) to reveal the names of those who have applied for pardon. It is not the secrecy of the individuals applying that is resented; rather it is the inability of the victims/survivors of their crimes to have their say or their suffering acknowledged. Current president Motlanthe verbally suggested that each victim/survivor would have the opportunity to have their say. It is not clear how else the import of the convincted criminals crime can be established. How can someone pardon you, when they are not aware (other than the legal documents they have been provided with) what you are asking forgiveness for? More troubling for me is that perhaps these criminals have not asked for forgiveness at all. This process will ensure that they never have to do that.
Who are these new criminals who did not apply for amnesty? What politically based crimes have they committed since the end of apartheid? If a crime is politically motivated, does it make it less criminal? What truths will be revealed by keeping their identities secret? How will this breed reconciliation?
I struggle with the idea of forgiving someone who has not asked for forgiveness. How does one forgive without an apology? Perhaps there is the idea that one can 'see the bigger picture' or 'be the bigger person', but in all this bigness the acknowledgement that something was done that caused harm is lost. So perhaps the idea is to forgive, but not to forget. Are we supposed to remember that something went horribly wrong, to acknowledge social factors in the creation of a criminal and then to focus on reintroducing, relearning, and reintegration?
Or is it still important to look at choices? The choice to commit a crime. The choice to avoid saying 'I'm sorry'.
More suspect though is the way this all happens. Perhaps in Mbeki's quick departure from the presidency he managed to take his list of how it should all work out fairly with him in his pocket. Otherwise, I'm not sure if there really was ever a plan. It was supposed to be done in the spirit of the TRC. For those of you not familiar with the process don't expect to learn anything from this one.
The TRC encouraged both victims (survivors) and agents of apartheid violence to come forward, talk through the crime and the effects of it and reach a decision, with various parties, about what the next step would be. But most importantly, it was out in the open, names were heard and faces were seen. The hearings were public, and this publicity was part of the healing process.
It was not a case of blanket freedom for all, some cases of application for amnesty were rejected. In fact, of the over 6000 who applied, only around 850 were successful. The commission emphasized reconciliation and the revalation of 'truths', and 11 years after it handed in its report it is not clear whether the present government's incentives for these particular pardons are similar or discordant.
So what is different this time around?
What seems to be the top of the list for most critics is the unwillingness of the reference group (created by Thabo Mbeki) to reveal the names of those who have applied for pardon. It is not the secrecy of the individuals applying that is resented; rather it is the inability of the victims/survivors of their crimes to have their say or their suffering acknowledged. Current president Motlanthe verbally suggested that each victim/survivor would have the opportunity to have their say. It is not clear how else the import of the convincted criminals crime can be established. How can someone pardon you, when they are not aware (other than the legal documents they have been provided with) what you are asking forgiveness for? More troubling for me is that perhaps these criminals have not asked for forgiveness at all. This process will ensure that they never have to do that.
Who are these new criminals who did not apply for amnesty? What politically based crimes have they committed since the end of apartheid? If a crime is politically motivated, does it make it less criminal? What truths will be revealed by keeping their identities secret? How will this breed reconciliation?
I struggle with the idea of forgiving someone who has not asked for forgiveness. How does one forgive without an apology? Perhaps there is the idea that one can 'see the bigger picture' or 'be the bigger person', but in all this bigness the acknowledgement that something was done that caused harm is lost. So perhaps the idea is to forgive, but not to forget. Are we supposed to remember that something went horribly wrong, to acknowledge social factors in the creation of a criminal and then to focus on reintroducing, relearning, and reintegration?
Or is it still important to look at choices? The choice to commit a crime. The choice to avoid saying 'I'm sorry'.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Our health system - soon to be revamped
The ANC enticed some voters with the idea of a healthcare system that was efficient, free, well managed and useful. It encouraged them to make their marks next to the beaming grin of JZ in order to ensure their place as health South Africans. The healthcare system will get the much needed funds from its revamp from increased taxes on all South Africans (including those on private medical schemes). Sounds fair.
But, in many cases the problem with current service provision, although undeniably related to lack of funds, is also related to poor management of funds. I have mentioned this before with regards to the education sector, but it is apparent that for the new ANC government to make the health inroads it seeks, it must must must do something about its budgeting skills.
Another thing they need to do is get their own members to use the public health system. When interviewed for newspapers and radio many of the staff said that they didn't use it, had had no need for it in the past and/or used private health care. Its not really convincing when ANC staff are not attending state hospitals, clinics or health centres.
But, I suppose a step in the right direction for a sector that is desperately in need of some TLC. Everyone who has used state hospitals or clinics has their own horror story, and perhaps these will become more like urban legends when the budget is reallocated, and health officials are required to use public health care and endure the long queues themselves. I hope so...
But, in many cases the problem with current service provision, although undeniably related to lack of funds, is also related to poor management of funds. I have mentioned this before with regards to the education sector, but it is apparent that for the new ANC government to make the health inroads it seeks, it must must must do something about its budgeting skills.
Another thing they need to do is get their own members to use the public health system. When interviewed for newspapers and radio many of the staff said that they didn't use it, had had no need for it in the past and/or used private health care. Its not really convincing when ANC staff are not attending state hospitals, clinics or health centres.
But, I suppose a step in the right direction for a sector that is desperately in need of some TLC. Everyone who has used state hospitals or clinics has their own horror story, and perhaps these will become more like urban legends when the budget is reallocated, and health officials are required to use public health care and endure the long queues themselves. I hope so...
Thursday, April 23, 2009
'they' only see black and white
On the day of our national elections I made my mark on the ballot paper and felt like perhaps, this election, it might make a difference. I felt happy and proactive, and took a walk home along the beach with my boyfriend. On the way, as I sometimes do, I began to listen to the conversations of the people around us. What did they feel about the elections? Did they share my excitement?
Sadly, the first group I began listening to were talking about the IPL, so that was a bit of a loss. The second group however was more appropriate for my ponderings. It was a middle aged woman talking with someone who appeared to be her daughter. They were talking about who they voted for, and the various parties on offer. The daughter questioned her mother - "who do you think is going to win? the ANC?". Her mother replied, her facial expression showing concern and deep thought. I sped up to hear her. "Well, maybe not the ANC this time, there is COPE now. Not the DA. No, they definitely won't win. You know, 'they' only see black and white." "Probably the ANC then" responded the daughter. "Probably" reiterated her mother.
I wondered how this woman had managed to extricate herself from the 'they'. It was fairly obvious who she was talking about. But how do other women like her come to believe that it is others, not they, who only see in black and white? Is it a case of never having to question the colour of their own skin that makes them appear 'normal' or the starting point for judgement.
Dyer said that whiteness is a 'flesh-coloured' bandaid. It is taken as 'normal' by so many people, that they do not question whether 'flesh-coloured' is really representative at all. When I read this for the first time I thought of those wax crayons that we used to use during primary school. We always called the pinky cream one 'flesh' coloured. When we learnt colours I'm pretty sure that was one of them. How many people felt alienated by this statement? How many teachers didn't question it at all?
So 15 years on race remains important, if not in the way that individuals vote, then in the way others assume they will. Race has changed from the colour of a wax crayon to the colour of a worldview, a culture, a creed. It is now a sticky tab that alerts others to who you are. Why bother asking when you can just use the outer markers to decide?
After speeding up again, this time to avoid eavesdropping, my sense of enjoyment was somewhat deflated. I began to think about what difference I hoped that my vote would make.
Could I have believed that it would change these perceptions, or was I just hoping for a change in government?
Sadly, the first group I began listening to were talking about the IPL, so that was a bit of a loss. The second group however was more appropriate for my ponderings. It was a middle aged woman talking with someone who appeared to be her daughter. They were talking about who they voted for, and the various parties on offer. The daughter questioned her mother - "who do you think is going to win? the ANC?". Her mother replied, her facial expression showing concern and deep thought. I sped up to hear her. "Well, maybe not the ANC this time, there is COPE now. Not the DA. No, they definitely won't win. You know, 'they' only see black and white." "Probably the ANC then" responded the daughter. "Probably" reiterated her mother.
I wondered how this woman had managed to extricate herself from the 'they'. It was fairly obvious who she was talking about. But how do other women like her come to believe that it is others, not they, who only see in black and white? Is it a case of never having to question the colour of their own skin that makes them appear 'normal' or the starting point for judgement.
Dyer said that whiteness is a 'flesh-coloured' bandaid. It is taken as 'normal' by so many people, that they do not question whether 'flesh-coloured' is really representative at all. When I read this for the first time I thought of those wax crayons that we used to use during primary school. We always called the pinky cream one 'flesh' coloured. When we learnt colours I'm pretty sure that was one of them. How many people felt alienated by this statement? How many teachers didn't question it at all?
So 15 years on race remains important, if not in the way that individuals vote, then in the way others assume they will. Race has changed from the colour of a wax crayon to the colour of a worldview, a culture, a creed. It is now a sticky tab that alerts others to who you are. Why bother asking when you can just use the outer markers to decide?
After speeding up again, this time to avoid eavesdropping, my sense of enjoyment was somewhat deflated. I began to think about what difference I hoped that my vote would make.
Could I have believed that it would change these perceptions, or was I just hoping for a change in government?
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
zuma promises smooth transition - anybody scared?
Jacob Zuma promises a smooth transition between the current ANC government and the one that will follow after the results of the 2009 election.
Is anyone else afraid?
The status quo is less than desirable and with the pre-election opinion polls showing that the ANC will win majority (Julius Malema believes this could even be a 'three-thirds' majority, somebody please help him) I'm not convinced that we want a smooth transition. He claims the ANC has 'done what is necessary' to secure its mandate, but I'm more concerned that they've done too much or too little.
Done too much 'damage': In the past five years it has begun to become embarrassing to be led by the ANC government. A Mail and Guardian article interviewing members of the Constantia Uitsig public stated that one of the ANC posters in the area had been defaced to read 'Together we can do more damage'. I think they have it right. To begin, the leadership of the ANC has been radically overhauled and they have done little or no leading. Their current leader has been charged with both rape and corruption, and both attempts at charging him have been unsuccessful. Whether this is as a result of his innocence (though to me it appeared quite clearly as a case of cold feet on the part of our justice system) or not, Zuma's attitude and comments on both of these matters were deplorable. In the rape case Zuma made several embarrassing comments, which illustrated both his lack of understanding of the HIV/AIDS crisis in South Africa and his lack of commitment to the constitutional values of gender equality. Furthermore, he allowed his supporters to get away with verbal incitements of violence against his accuser. All this without apology and without the acknowledgement that he had a responsibility to promote support of rape survivors and encourage learning about HIV/AIDS. These duties remain unacknowledged and unfulfilled today, despite our growing culture of violence against women and continued stigma surrounding HIV.
Similarly, it appears that his attitude towards corruption is equally nonchalant. Today on e-news he was questioned about the 'cloud of suspicion' that continues to surround him. His response was (apologies if it is not exactly correct) 'what cloud?I have never seen a cloud surrounding me'. I am hoping, that this was a case of dodging the bullet by attempting to make a joke, rather than his lack of understanding of what the journo was asking. But one can never be sure.
Done too little to ensure people's rights: The same Mail and Guardian article (headline: Zuma promises smooth transtion) sees Zuma stating "we reiterate that we will use our majority responsibly and will not ride roughshod over the rights of the people, or bulldoze other parties into submission." I am not sure where Mr Zuma thinks his responsibilities lie, and I would love to find out.
What about the rights of women?, the taxpayer?, young children? Women continue to be the target of violent crime and South Africa has the highest rape rate in the world, with its victims and survivors spanning all ages, races and ethnicities. How will Zuma, himself 'culturally' unable (read unwilling) to vocalise these women's right to security, ensure that power will be used responsibly. The corruption trial against him cost the South African taxpayers millions of Rands. How will these taxes be better used by someone unable to manage his own money? The past few years have seen our education system return to a sad state of affairs with many matric students having to teach themselves due to lack of staff and poor spending on the part of provincial governments. How will Zuma encourage his government to better spend?
I am aware that a party is more than its leader. And I am aware that a government is made up of more than one party. But I am afraid for South Africa on the cusp of elections. I am not encouraged by the clouds surrounding Zuma, and I am more concerned that his vision is so tinted by his own power that he cannot see them himself.
picture: www.news24.com
mail and guardian article accessbile from www.mg.co.za
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