Of comfort zones and the need to ACT

The decision to move to Cape Town was not an easy one to make. I came to this cross-road after having lived and studied in Bloemfontein for five years. I believe I emerged a different person from when I had first arrived. These five years have been my best thus far and I am very excited about what lies ahead. This growth was due in part to my having become racialized. I only became aware of this fact last month, after eight months of living in Cape Town. This revelation came while conversing with a mentor and sharing with him my experiences of this beautiful yet very unequal city. I shared with him how I'd become ‘Black’ in 2009 after having crossed Botswana’s border into South Africa for the very first time. It was only on that evening that we realized I had become racialized and that my judgement of South African experiences (and society) had become biased in the process. This clouded judgement, if allowed to persist, will become detrimental to South Africa’s progress.

I have had to do a lot of reflection since I came to Cape Town at the beginning of the year. I had thought I had prudently counted the cost and 'ensured' against all the 'risks' that lay ahead as I ventured out of my comfort zone. I was to discover that I could not have anticipated many of the challenges that lay ahead. My biggest challenge proved to be of adjusting to a new living and studying environment. The adjustment to the University of Cape Town was difficult. I know that I am supposed to say it was challenging but, the truth is it was difficult. I believe the worst is over though, and I couldn't be more grateful for the lessons learnt.

My reflection has revealed that I rejected and resisted Cape Town for a long time. For months I resisted. I guess part of this might have been informed by the advice I got from family and friends before I took off for the big city. I was warned that Cape Town might change me and make me 'white'. While that advice was very valid and needed, it kept me from opening myself up to Cape Town and accepting her lessons much earlier.

For months I felt dejected and very angry about the social injustices in Cape Town. When asked how I felt about the mother city I would share that although she possessed so much physical beauty, she lacked internal beauty. I would share that in her shadows lay a very deep darkness that she only revealed to those with the eyes to see. This is still very true but I have had to approach it from another angle, this was primarily for my survival. Anger is a very negative emotion and I doubt I would have made any progress in life had I clung to it.

The anger went on for months and I even wrote about it. The revelation (of the need to let go of the anger) came after I had stumbled and realized I had been doing a lot of talking about that which didn't make me happy. I was doing a lot of talking as opposed to doing something about the wrong I wanted corrected. It is true that Cape Town is very segregated and unequal, we could TALK about this for years; we have enough material. But the truth is NOTHING will change until we take action and eradicate that which we are not happy about. Don't get me wrong, I do value honest communication and dialogue. It’s just that the dialogue has to be coupled with action. Talking alone is not enough.

I have been doing a lot of talking. I have been talking a lot about race relations at the University of the Free State and the broader South Africa. I have been talking a lot about Cape Town's racial and class divides. I have been doing a lot of talking about the disadvantaged position of Africa on the global platform. I have been talking too much about leadership bankruptcy on our continent. And, I now realize that nothing will move until I get up from this very comfortable seat and starting doing something! I need to act. Those intellectual conversations, although necessary, are not going to make anything happen. They are not going create jobs nor will they emancipate us. It is true that at present South Africa's economy is owned white hands, but that will not change until a black young person makes it his mission to build a business that will lead to an exchange in ownership. We cannot wait for the white man to say sorry, we need to act now. Maybe he will say sorry, which I doubt very much, but as we wait let's take action and bring about the change we want to see in this world. Doing something could entail volunteering at a local NGO that equips unemployed youth with digital and entrepreneurial skills. It could be organizing a book-drive in your community to improve literacy levels in a local primary school. It could even be something as ‘small’ as conducting civil-rights information sessions for your neighbours or lobbying your friends to pick up litter from the streets of your town or village. Doing something could be demanding accountability from a Parliamentarian whose performance you are not happy with. Any effort will make a difference, no matter how small.

Botswana too has her problems. Her economy is also owned by white hands, and what's worse is that these white hands are foreign. We find ourselves in a situation where none of the profits made in the country are being reinvested to grow the economy and create employment. How do we grow an economy while all the money it generates is being drained to external pockets? Where do we start in diversifying that which we don't even own? As upset as I am, I know it’s possible for me to just sit here, moan and criticize these hands that are ‘stealing’ from us. But ‘reality’ is my talking will not change anything! My talking will not in any way affect these robbers; they will keep on racking huge profits. I am told that one bank, after having made millions in profits, reserved close to 70% for its foreign owners. We need to do something. A study of Botswana’s banks will show that they are RUN by Batswana. Clearly we have the skills and the experience to run and operate banks. Why can’t we open our own?

Unless we make it our daily business to do something, we can forget about progress. The future of this continent lies in our hands. What will we say when asked of our contribution to ensure prosperity on our continent? Having a nice job and driving a Range Rover is not enough, it is far from enough. I don't want Africa to perish under my watch. We need to act.

Edited version of a piece published on Bonfiire on October 8th, 2014.

London, Anger and the G8 Youth Summit

Just little over a year ago, I had the great opportunity of attending the G8 Youth Summit in United Kingdom. It was such an exciting time for me given what I wanted (and still want) to do with my life. I felt (and still believe) that the experience came just at the right time. The opportunity provided just the right conversations and just the right ‘friction’ to aid my growth. But before we go there, I need to tell you about the anger that I felt upon my return. I sometimes laugh at myself though! I mean, who goes to LONDON only to come back filled with emotions of rage!?

                                            

The trip to London was a smooth one, 14 hours of air travel if I remember correctly. I arrived just a little late for registration but was able to connect with the African Union and South African teams. The following few days would be filled with debates and negotiations about what we felt what the ideal way forward for the world. I found myself in the company of close to a hundred youth who had been sponsored because of their passion to make a difference, or so I thought.

This is what made me angry:

1. The whole thing; the debates, the negotiations, it felt like a simulation. In the previous article, I mention how I thought the summit would be of little consequence; this was in relation to this. Thing is I'd gone to that summit thinking I was going to take part in debates that would definitely impact change in the lives of many. After day one, I felt so discouraged. I felt we were only doing it for the sake of doing it, so we may have it on our CV's and so the world community may mark it done. I felt like we were working towards a document that the 'elders' would not even make time to read. Yes, we got to network and we learned a lot from each other, but I did not believe we would meet what I thought to be the real objectives of the summit; create a path for positive, sustainable change.

The Summit's Sherpas

2. The majority of the discussions were about Africa and it made me sad that these had to be discussed on foreign land with the majority of negotiators being non-African. It made me so angry to have people who had probably only heard about Africa on CNN or BBC attempt to map a way forward for Africa!! And this was only a ‘simulation’. I can only imagine what goes on in the 'real' G8 summits. I'm now reminded of the meeting that took place in FRANCE to discuss the fate of the 200 Nigerian girls earlier this year!! It makes me sad and very angry that Africa doesn't have much of a say in the running of her affairs.

3. I think it was on the first day when I learned that some countries, European countries, had paid their youth to take part in the summit. It had to be youth with experience in diplomacy, international relations and so forth. That's why the summit felt of little relevance and impact. It felt like a show, just something to tick off. I mean, were we not supposed to select youth based on merit and passion for global development? Were we not supposed to select youth that would critically engage to come up with recommendations for their governments? My expectations had been that that building in Greenwich University would be filled with youth ready to stand up to their governments on matters of national and global interest. Instead we had youth who feared to make policy recommendations not matching those of their governments. My expectation had been of a discussion on ways of holding our governments accountable and demanding able leadership and responsibility.

A picture with Big Ben

Getting back to Africa after a week in London was difficult. I now had to face friends and acquaintances who wanted to know about the London experience. It was difficult because people didn't really want to know how it was, they didn't want to know the truth. Most people only wanted to hear about all the touristy activities and whether I'd met Big Ben. I couldn't tell them all that I have written above. I felt a little depressed after London. One of my friends actually told me that my happy had diminished. I wish I had trusted him enough to tell him all was not well inside of me. I get the same question about Cape Town. I've struggled to settle here, but I'm able to tell the truth, even though not always.

I feel better now, about London. Writing forces me to engage in critical self-conversations, writing makes it better.