The dead silence that followed lasted only a few seconds before thunderous applause rang out to fill the vacuum. For those members of the audience who understood the meaning behind her words, though, that pregnant pause must have seemed to last much longer than that brief moment.
You see, the speaker that night was former President, Thabo Mbeki. The occasion, the 30th anniversary of the death of Steven Bantu Biko. How appropriate that the address was being given by an ardent advocate for an African Renaissance, celebrating the life of the man who gave birth to, and literally died for espousing the principles of the Black Consciousness Movement.
I remember walking back down to lower campus with that single phrase replaying itself in my mind, “Amanda wa ntoni?” which in English translates roughly as, “Power for what purpose?”
Put another way, we could ask ourselves, what are we making of the legacy we inherited from the years of struggle for freedom? After all the suffering and strife that was endured, and the countless sacrifices that were made, it seems as if the political will that was built up to combat the corrupt and oppressive apartheid regime just dissipated into the ether.
What were we fighting for? Was the right to vote in a democratic election really the end game of the stalwarts who bought with blood and sweat the freedoms we enjoy today?
It certainly seems that way. The sum of the freedom years up to now can be characterised by power jockeying, increasing government corruption, near non-existent delivery of essential services to those most in need of them (housing, education, water & electricity) and the kind of political apathy that is a hallmark of people who have been severely let down.
If you look at it optimistically, one can project that, with the right people in the right jobs, the country's administrative issues will get sorted eventually. But if an efficient government is all we can show for ourselves in a century or so from now, I believe then that the Biko’s, Thambo’s, Hani’s and Sisulu’s of our world will have fought and died in vain.
Hundreds of years of active under development and exploitation of the Black peoples of our nation, followed by decades of systematic subjugation have robbed us of more than just land and the right to self-government. The cultural poverty that so many of our generation are left in today is also a direct result of the laws and policies that were enacted by our former masters, and one that was consciously driven at too.
Today, Ubuntu is little more than a catchy phrase, cultural identity is rapidly being eroded by the behemoth that is the American marketing machine, and the kind of community and family values that our forefathers took for granted have been all but lost to the ravages of time. Our struggle is no longer primarily a political one, but a spiritual one. Now before you close this window and go check your e-mail, give me a chance to couch my statement in more elaborate terms.
Numerous references are made to the Spirit of Ubuntu, more than likely because it has never really been codified, it’s something that our people have always just practiced instinctively, as if it was the only religion and constitution we ever needed. You don’t need to be a sociologist to notice how little power that Spirit now has in the hearts and minds of Black South Africans.
The lucky few who were in positions to benefit economically from the transfer of power in the early to mid ninesties have been party to the widening of the disparity between rich and poor in South Africa, amassing wealth and all it's accoutrements with barely a thought for the millions whose lives have improved but a little since 1994. The economic betterment of a select few and the relegation of the masses to what is still essentially a hereditary labour force has made social disctinctions more about class than race, though the two are still closely correlated. We don't talk to each other anymore. We live in a constant state paranoia from fear of being robbed, hi-jacked or mugged. We walk past each other in the street without so much as making eye contact. I'm pretty sure this isn't the vision of South Africa that Steve Biko gave his life to realise.
In the thought system of Ubuntu, one cannot be fully happy while his neighbour suffers. This clashes with the current state of affairs where those who are reaping the rewards of our relative freedom today are content to leave those less fortunate to languish in squalor. This cannot be abided. Pre-colonial communities used to farm the land as individual families and share the crop collectively. If there was any kind of surplus generated by one families efforts, it was distributed to those who hadn't faired so well. Nowhere can this Spirit of sharing for the common good be seen today. It's more a case of,"I'm good, go out and get yours." I'm not talking about giving handouts that perpetuate the charity-case mindset, but about doing one's level best to better the man next to him, so he can do the same for the next.
Support small business. Spend time tutoring children at under-resourced schools. Make a conscious effort to give of your time and energy by volunteering to help with community outreach programmes. Get to know the person who cleans your house or tends to your garden. Instead of just donating money to a faceless organisation, pack a light meal and give it to the man or woman on the corner you pass on your way to work every day. Or a blanket. Or a pair of shoes. Let's be aware of each other.
Our challenge, the answer to poetess' question and the true test of whether or not we have overcome the tyranny of the apartheid system, is to recapture and rekindle the ideals and values of Ubuntu.Only then can we begin to build a truly unified natioin and forge a future where the Africa in South Africa doesn't just denote out geographical position.
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