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Samaritan

Today, as I recover in the cold from my short trip to see my beautiful sisters before leaving, I am reminded of the parable of the good Samaritan. Yes it just popped into my mind.

Next I find myself remembering a question I was asked earlier this year. The question was: who was my brother between Fischer and Matanzima? I had no clue who Matanzima was, but I knew vaguely who Fischer was — or at least within the context of the conversation, I could guess reference was being made to Bram! For this reason, I declared Bram to be my brother even though I knew that amounted to conceding ‘defeat’. This was truly humbling to me because I was reminded (yet again) the importance of viewing things from a perspective that values all humanity. In connection to the parable, I think I was reminded that those that I should call brothers, sisters, neighbours, etc should be those like the good Samaritan not those like the priest, the Levitan, apartheid supporters, etc. Therefore, colour, race, social standing, sexual orientation, etc should be irrelevant.

With this refreshing reminder, my prayer is to be more like the Samaritan with each day. As is, I am not sure how far I would go to be helpful to a perfect stranger and this concerns me; for I really want to be one who helps others without reservations. I want this because I am trying to be maintain a degree of optimism in my life.

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Make up or veil

The French parliament has banned the face covering veil. My question is why not also ban the use of make up? I ask simply because I fail to appreciate the merits of the argument. Frankly, I think to believe that women are oppressed when they follow their traditions is not a determination that can be made based on perceptions that are possibly driven by fear or lack of understanding on the true symbolism of why the tradition exists.

A few years ago, I was told a story of a very influential Mosotho woman who was for banning ‘thapo’ (black attire worn for months to symbolise that a woman is mourning for her husband). As the story goes, when the said woman lost her husband, she insisted on wearing thapo! Why? Well because she recognised its symbolism! So what is the moral of this story? If you haven’t walked in the shoes, don’t be presumptuous….

Hence, in this case, I think it is not for non-Muslims to determine whether a face veil should or shouldn’t be worn by those who choose to. Further, if truly we feel women should be comfortable in showing off their pretty faces, then we should ban make up… (and risk the collapse of the ever growing beauty industry).

Just so it is clear, even though I am suggesting that make up should be banned, I am all for its use! I am making the suggestion merely to point out that many women on a daily basis have their faces covered up with either make up or veil. Hence, the French should ban them both or allow them both!

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I ask

The more I strive for my soul to be at peace, the more I seem to battle with conflicting emotions. How can this be, I ask? It is 2010, the year I planned to cut off all negativity in my life in order to start another decade of existence in bliss or in the neighbourhood of it.

I ask again? How can it be that I seem so far and yet so near at the same time? Could it be I am addicted to conflict and as such peace is but an illusive creature to me? As I reflect, I find no easy answers!

In the name of peace, I have tried the putting the head down strategy and saying very little. But that hasn’t really worked and this has nothing to do with me loving the sound of my voice. It has everything to do with the fact that with some people, silence translates to the other party lacking awareness of what is happening. This of course, is far from the truth! The truth is that silence is kept merely to enable people to reflect on their actions and take corrective measures. This indeed is why we have clichés like silence is golden. But then again, we also have sayings to the effect that all it takes for evil to flourish is for good people to say and do nothing. (Hmmmmm…even my thoughts harbor conflict 🙁 .)

If I can recognise conflict in my emotions and thoughts, why can’t I just do away with it so that my soul finds the peace it longs for? And again, I ask? I ask for I seek answers. But I also ask because a part of me wonders if I will hear those answers when provided to me. I ask this because I do recognise my own sensitivity to spoken language.

I ask because this sensitivity threatens to turn me into a cynic and this scares me beyond believe. Perhaps I am already a cynic in denial, who knows? Personally, all I know is that I exist in a world where people are overly sensitive about the language they use because of political correctness and all that jazz about etiquette or need to show that one has social capital. Good or bad, what this means is that I feel people tend not to say what they mean. Instead, people say what they think is expected of them. And if at all I am right, I ask whether I will hear the truth? If not, without the truth, I ask, will I ever find peace?

I ask all of the above and still wish to ask many more questions but I am afraid. I am afraid because to ask them is to possibly feed the cynic in me. The cynic that might make me believe that social injustices will continue to go unnoticed because the semantics of our language is seemingly pure!*

Can anyone help me? For I ask but I know not whether I will hear the answers. I ask because I do believe in humanity and refuse to live life in cynicism! There are many good people out there who inspire me with the big and small things they do. Some of these people, are in my family and others I have the privilege of calling them friends. Inspite and despite it all, these people act as a reminder that peace can be attained and indeed the world can be a better place. Thus, because of these people, I ask my questions so that I can be a contributor of that which is good. I ask so that I can grow for myself and in their honour.

I ask and I ask for my soul seeks the answers and longs of peace. I ask. So please do answer me!

As I wait for my answers, stay strong and God bless!

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*Our language is seemingly pure in that by today’s standard a sexist can be called non-sexist if at all in their sexist behaviour the person makes no use of the word bitch!
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15 Days of Amazing

The 15 days of amazing was truly amazing! I enjoyed a lot of paint work on the streets and all the crafts. Much of what I saw affirmed that this continent has a lot of talent. However, there is a need to cultivate innovation. Many of the stalls tended to have very similar art work. For example, if there were, say 50 stalls, then more than half of them would have paintings of women with clay pots on their heads. Believe me, there were lovely! But with some, it felt like one was seeing replicated work that seemed to suggest that the artist had far more potential than reflected on their paintings, if only they were to try something else or dare I say play with more colour!

I also attended a few shows. I went to Sibongile Khumalo with Danilo Perez and attended the gala concert. These were excellent but I am not sure if that had anything to do with the fact that I was with my two beautiful sisters – Shono and Fila. I really had fun! Sibongile is truly captivating and Richard Cock is a wonderful conductor. Part of his charm is that he is comfortable in his own skin, and at his age, he understands that he has very little to lose. Trust me, he is not that old, but frankly: “ho hole mo a tsoang, ho haufi mo a eang”. (Translated with a bit of context: in his journey of life, it is far where he is from and near to where he is heading. In other words, he has run the distance and all that awaits him is ….[hint is from the bible])

In support of Injairu, I went to watch a street performance from a group of disadvantaged youth comprising of street kids. They demonstrated a lot of potential. What I liked the most was their use of rubbish as their metaphor. This was intended to convey the message that what one regards as rubbish to another, it is something more. Part of what they did to convey this message was to tailor their costumes using plastics and all sort of rubbish. They also made musical instruments with it. They used cans and filled 2 litre oros containers with whatever that would produce a rattling sound. Overall, I was really moved. I was reminded of the sesotho saying: “le sehole se setle ho ‘masona”! Translated with a degree of political correctness, this means each child is precious to their mother able bodied or otherwise! In part, I guess this saying came to mind because I realised that the metaphor extended beyond creating environmental awareness to appreciating the humanity of the street kids. I know sometimes it easier to see them as potential thieves, but the truth is that, to someone else, they are precious. Injairu I commend you my sister with your efforts. It is people like you that give humility a new meaning. Keep up the good work and soon I shall be assisting but not on the artistic side…(yes I know that is an obvious ‘duh’ but had to say it nonetheless).

I am trying to keep it short but with so much amazement how can I? I also went to see Judith Sephuma unplugged. Wow, she truly was unplugged! She sang a few of her own songs and songs by other wonderful and gifted artists. Her line up included the following: There’s music in the air; don’t let the sun go down me; wind beneath my wings; cry, smile and dance; etc. I enjoyed every bit of it. There was even a touch of gospel…talk about music being the food for the soul!

As the icing on my cake, I also saw Hugh Masekela and Sibongile Khumalo perform in a musical called: Songs of Migration. It was mind blowing; Hugh not only can he play his trumpet he is still capable of getting right down to the floor when he dances. I wonder how many people beyond 60 can do what he does? Well back to the point, he and Sibongile demostrated that they were multi-talented. They narrated, conducted and sang wonderfully!

This musical is really really worth seeing — all of the people on stage including the band were clearly gifted! I don’t want to deprive anyone the pleasure of enjoying this musical but just so you know what it is about let me offer you a taste… As the name suggests it is about migration. To be exact, songs that capture different scenarios of people who have moved from their native land and the realities of their day to day lives and that of their loved ones left behind. These songs conveyed a number of things using the many languages that South Africa has. For the simple reason that I am not good with languages I didn’t understand many of the songs. However, this does not mean I couldn’t follow! That truly was the beauty of it all! Whatever the language we all as humans share the same emotions. When we are separated from our loved ones be it because of the politics of the day or to seek employment in the city, we worry and experience feeling of longing. Hence, why we may visit our favourite drinking holes (aka shebeens) to numb our pain. Or perhaps sit around and laugh at it all by imitating our so-called bosses or those in our new environment. Yet other times we allow ourselves to be in a complete state of denial. Why? Because it perfectly human for us to want to be in denial. Denial allows us to convince ourselves that we are not the forgotten. Our loved ones will write to us those letters that we so desperately long for. Even if it is obvious that those letters are not forthcoming, denial becomes a companion of hope. And we cling to that hope, on the one hand, because we love them and pray that love will conquer it all. On the other hand, we cling to hope because we are battling with the reality of returning empty handed should things not workout as hoped for. Blah blah blah! I really cannot unpack the whole production but given an opportunity to see it again I will.

Overall, my 15 days of amazing were amazing but I can’t capture it all. Next year I think I will attempt to blog each day. So that I don’t end up lacking the energy to describe wonderful performances like one by the Wits choir – diverse, well conducted, and simply marvellous.

People do visit the Grahamstown arts festival, it is absolutely inspiring to say the least. God willing see you all next year. Much love and peace to all!

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Piss elsewhere …

dontPiss

The end of “sekotlo sa monna ke leralla”!

The practice of some men pissing all over has over the years pissed me a lot (pun intended)! To my defense, I suppose it is because I could never comprehend the Sesotho saying: “sekotlo sa monna ke leralla“. This saying is often used to explain why some men can actually piss in public without remorse. Translated, it states: ‘the back of a man’s head is a rock’. Interpreted I believe the saying means, as long as a man is facing away, like an ostrich with its head buried in the sand, he can assume that all that is behind him is non-existent!

Right or wrong about my interpretation, I was delighted to finally see signage that practically said: whether or not as a man you believe, sekotlo sa monna ke leralla, not at/in/on [OUR]* house! You want to piss? Please don’t desecrate our building, piss elsewhere and peace be with you! 

And given the timing of the signage, the enjoy your the 15 days of amazing at the Grahamstown Arts Festival was implied 😉 !
___________

*Personally I have taken God as a partner, so I regard that to also be my house 😉 .
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Partner or Perish

In academia, it is often stated that one must publish or perish but times have changed. We now live in an era of partner or perish. If this is not the case, then people like me who are all committed to the cause of open source are doomed. Doomed in a sense that we should be subscribing to the notion that sharing is key to levelling the playing fields and ensuring that all benefit. Therefore, if we believe this principle applies only for software, we need to be condemned!

Lets think about it. If we believe in the promise of open source, which translates to better quality, higher reliability, lower costs and freedom from any vendor. We should believe that these same rewards can be reaped in all areas of life if we work in partnership. If not that, we could contemplate why our parents and/or guardians made it their cause in life to instil in us that “sharing is caring”. I did contemplate the question myself and came up with a few interesting things. The first was conspiracy to rob me of my sweets. The second was that the dear old folks were locked in the dawn of the 70s. (A period of true social consciousness, and as I am told a time when good music was fashionable; a time in which the likes of John Lennon, Curtis Mayfield, Ottis Redding and Bob Marley through their music advocated for a united and peaceful world.)

After going through a few other “theories” of why sharing is possibly caring, I decided to trust in the wisdom embodied in clichés. I realised that I didn’t know any old adage or cliché that encourages one to do anything on their own. Therefore, putting emphasis on publish cannot possibly be acceptable. It should be all about partnering and publishing the best work that two or more minds can generate. Otherwise as academia we fail in our social responsibility to uphold good values. We fail also to appreciate why the business community has suddenly decided to value what they term strategic partnerships and therefore why there is much emphasis on creating synergies and thinking win-win.

For what it is worth, I honestly believe that de-emphasising publish would not result in fewer publications. I believe that by emphasising the need to partner we would in fact increase the publications output. Perhaps, I believe all this because I have been brain washed with old Sesotho sayings like “kopano ke matla”, “matsoho a hlatsoana”, “lets’oele le beta poho” ! (Translated: unity is power, hands wash each other, masses rein in a [raging] bull).

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A word on Malawi gay sentencing

Like many other people who may be deemed sympathetic to homosexuals, I am numbed by the decision taken by Malawian court to jail a couple on the grounds of their sexual orientation. I know numb may seem mild but I hope it explains to our friends outside the continent why we were not the first to respond to the sentencing.

With corruption, poverty and other challenges facing us, it may appear that we are complicit to the violation of gay rights. We are not and believe it or not, we are familiar with expressions such as: “all it takes for evil to flourish is for good men to do nothing!”

So why does it seem we are doing nothing? Well, in my opinion, I think the hypocrisy of taking issue with other people’s bedroom activities overwhelms us to a state of numbness – particularly because our plates are already full with unresolved issues that hinder the growth our continent. We exist in a society where we judge the qualities of our leaders by everything else but what they do behind closed doors of their bedrooms. We have priests that have vowed celibacy and have families outside the church compound; but come Sunday, we are willing to listen to them because we understand that it is not what they do that matters but what they say! (I know some may take issue with this particular example but I bring it up only because religion is often used as justification for homophobicness. While on this, let me make it perfectly clear that I am no authority on religious matters. However, I do believe that it is not for us to pass judgement. I believe our duty is to live in peace with one another and wait for our Maker to pass judgement unto us.)

But, when the numbness goes, is there anything that we can do? I wish I could answer this question but I must say I can’t! And this scares me beyond believe because I think part of the silence and inaction is generated by the lack of hope that things will change. But without taking action, we will have gay people marrying “right” only later to cheat with partners of the same sex. Then we will whisper among ourselves about how the poor cheated partners could have not known when the writing was on the wall! What is worse is that as we whisper, we will ignore to ask the question that would explain why individuals are willing to live a lie when it is a known fact that the truth shall eventually come out. Therefore, coming out itself is an act driven by the truth. The truth that some people are homosexuals, others are heterosexual, bisexual or omnisexual!

Thus, whatever the truth may be, I believe irrespective of our sexual preferences or orientation, we should be measured by the good that we do in our communities not what happens behind closed doors of our bedrooms. I also believe that if at all we choose to use bedroom activities as a measure of worthiness, then we should be consistent and apply that to our leaders and everyone else.

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SATNAC Paper

Phew! Finished writing SATNAC paper on time. It was a pretty short paper but it is one of my milestones for the semester so I am pretty happy. I guess I have earned a few brownie points 😉 .

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