The fourth general election in South Africa’s relatively youthful democracy was completed on Wednesday 22 April. For the first time since 1994, South African ex-pats where given the chance to vote on the 15th and all over the world, stations were opened and democracy was served. On the home front, a record number of voters took to the polls and, for the first time, actively created an opposition party to the all powerful ANC.
For me, the tenacity of South African voters was displayed at the Home Affairs office in Randburg on Tuesday 21 April, when hundreds of people stood beside me in the queue for interminable hours to ensure they would have the chance to vote the following day. Some had lost their ID books through carelessness, others had lost theirs through non-violent and sometimes violent crimes. There were stories of ID books that did not last the machine wash cycle, or, unfortunately, stayed on the wrong side of the ocean when their owners flew back to vote.
Whatever the reasons, they were there, they were prepared to wait and they would do it with the charismatic flair intrinsic to South Africans. Some
entrepreneurs took the opportunity to serve hot chocolate up and down the lines and there was the unified feeling of people coming together and taking an active interest in the country. I stood in that queue for 5 hours and not one person near me gave up and left. They stood and they fought for their chance to vote. The same way they are prepared to stand and fight for their country.
I don’t know what the next five years holds for South Africa, but as long as we have comrades willing to wait in endless queues with blessed patience for their chance to have their democratic say, I reckon we will be ok.
My strongest argument for voting abroad has been that it’s the best way to feel involved at home if you aren’t there. Many noises were made about a homecoming revolution sometime ago, and even if the furore has subsided, there are some South Africans out there who still hope that the day is coming where every second person in Wimbledon isn’t South African – and that those South Africans who populate Wimbledon now are living back in SA.
I can’t speak for what it was like for people who voted outside London, but voting in Trafalgar square was up there with the Rugby World Cup Final for making me feel homesick. I’m a bit ahead of myself, so I’ll start with the housekeeping.
I found the preparation process for remote voting to be almost painless with the biggest issue being put on hold on the ‘phone for 14 minutes to South Africa while I waited for confirmation that my VEC10 (the form you need to vote from outside SA) was received and approved.
The DA was the only party that appeared to be doing any kind of campaigning for votes from outside the borders. They deserve a mention for tireless efforts and for what was a notably efficient campaign. They provided up to date information on the court case, responded swiftly and personally to enquiries and supplied links to the VEC10 forms, even going as to offer to fax it through for you. This was obviously accompanied by emails requesting money to fund their campaign, but it needs to be said that no other party seemed interested in either my money or my vote.
On the day, with an expected 7,500 voters expected, I anticipated arriving at work well after lunch time. Greeted at Trafalgar square by lines ten people wide, stretching along the side up to the end of the block, yellow police tape and protest style barriers up – the whole shebang- I asked the bobby if this was the queue. Nope. Apparently that queue up the other side, ten wide and stretching along the front of the national museum was where the end of the queue was. Oh excellent. I promptly called the boss explaining that even arriving after lunch was looking a little dubious.
In the queue, I was assailed by all manner of South African handouts – bright blue fizzers stapled to newspapers included. The plus was that the ‘take one pass along’ approach gave the London-hardened a window to have a chat. Which is what South Africans rock at. And chat on we did – about going home, about the future prospects for SA, about living in London. Generally, we did the whole spectrum of what is fabulous and what is terrible about SA, and what it’s like to live in London. I saw people tag teaming to queue up and getting coffee delivered from the local Pret to make the wait a bit easier.
The things that stand out from the day: everyone who came to vote in green rugby jerseys – and those who brought the vuvuzela’s along just ‘sommer’. The absolute efficiency of the election staff who were polite, friendly and generally outstanding all the time I was there. That they let the elderly, the mothers (and accompanying fathers – sneaky), and those who had other reasons for not being able to wait go in a fast track for the voting.I prefer not to wait in queues with crying kids, so the fast track pleased everyone.
The enthusiastic DA staff handing out VEC1 forms (necessary for voting on the day, and different from VEC10 apparently) and DA manifestos to those in the queue; the ACDC representatives in their red t-shirts handing out information with big smiles.
With the efficiency of the process, that massive queue eventually amounted to not even an hour’s wait. I was at work only half an hour late, long before anyone imagined I would be. I was there only for a short time and in the morning, so perhaps I missed some campaigning. That evening, a friend showed me a video on his phone of ANC campaigners toyi-toying in the square. I would love to have seen which parties had campaigners there throughout the day, and what they did.
Overall, the experience did more for me and for my feelings about going home than I imagined. I wanted to have a little cry when I stood and looked at the line of ebullient, talkative and undeniably happy people standing waiting to cast their vote. Voting from abroad was never about winning an election for me, but it was about acknowledging fellow South Africans who are absent from the country.
For the voters, it is about feeling a part of a constitution that is far ahead of the rest of the world, and about feeling directly involved with your country. If you care enough to make the effort to vote, by implication you have a vested interest and have a right to a say in who governs.
The bad news is that I live in a house with 3 other South Africans – just one other voted – in South Africa as she was there for a visit. I was at dinner a few days later with 4 other South Africans – I was the only one with the trademarked thumb. One man there didn’t even know we were allowed to vote, although he claims an interest in SA as he own businesses there.
Now that Willem Richter and the court have had their day and we are given the privilege of the vote, I find it almost heartbreaking to meet people who can’t be bothered. One more piece of bad news is that when I looked at my ballot, I realised how little I had been touched by the participating parties, which says something about the respective campaigns.
All round, however, it must be said that this experience was uplifting and without question absolutely positive for South Africa. Well done to the election committee for arranging it so well in such a short time. Willem Richter, if I ever meet you, drinks on me.
On 2 November 2008, less than six months before the recent general elections, a group of people convened to discuss the fractured political environment of the ANC and what it represented. There, it was agreed that it was time for a new political formation. The Congress of the People was subsequently born.
Now, when the big mac daddy’s of Shilowa and Lekota spear headed the new party and poured in all of their combined impressive political experience, external talk started about the new anti-ANC and the possibility of a fresh ruling party. Putting the cart before the horse is a minor understatement, but that doesn’t make the advent of COPE any less important for the 2009 elections.
What they did was gain exposure. At a time when the political fanaticism was at an all time high, they introduced themselves, they made their mission statement known and they began a very important process.
By the by, for those of you who are unsure of what COPE stand for, the vision follows: Our vision for South Africa is for a democratic, inclusive, prosperous country which shuns all racial, ethnic, gender, narrow chauvinistic stereotypes and prejudices in favour of a caring society, where shared national identity and pride are deeply rooted; and where the freedoms of the people are untrammelled by a selfish political leadership; and where as a country we are at peace with our neighbours and the world.
I do like the sound of that. Basically, the ANC, while historically relevant and important to South Africa, are struggling to make the transition even now from liberation movement to ruling party. They are steeped in history that is so important, but, unfortunately, also politically limiting and a scratch my back scratch your back mentality is dangerously prevalent. For many, many years, they operated as an underground campaign, forced to hold their cards very close to their chest - important for a liberation movement, but damning for a ruling political party. COPE are trying to move beyond that to a democratic and inclusive country. Its aim is to avoid the fallings of being a historically ‘black’ party like the ANC or a historically ‘white’ party like the DA and to just represent themselves as a party for South Africans.
That mentality, piggy backing on the first real chance of an opposition party to the ANC in the form of the stronger DA and COPE means that, politically, South Africa has made massive strides. This truly exciting time in politics can only mean good things. I, personally, am very excited to see the slow bubble of COPE and the DA up against the ANC with its first real show of opposition since 1994 boil to an impressive crescendo in time for election 2013.
As the West hobbles along after the economic meltdown, Africa’s problems remain by and large the same. Specifically malaria, HIV and its related illnesses and access to clean drinking water wreak havoc, killing off millions annually. The West struggles for money and Africa struggles for survival.
Which makes it all the more gratifying that a London based entrepreneur should be so concerned about access to clean water in Africa that he not only came up with a workable solution, but implemented it and ensured that it is sustainable. It is a solution that provides a clean, reliable water source to a community, in proximity to their living areas and schools. Even more inconceivable, this solution depends upon children playing to provide the water. It really does sound too good to be true.
The solution itself is elementary. Windmills have been pumping water since 500AD and have proved to be both reliable and low maintenance. Children have been playing on roundabouts probably since the invention of the wheel. In theory, turn the windmill on its side, replace the blades with a roundabout, and hey presto – you have a roundabout that pumps water. In effect, what you have is a ‘Playpump’. Children play on the roundabout that pumps water from a borehole and stores it in tanks ready for use.
Few communities have the resources to fund such equipment, and the current economic climate isn’t going to generate funds easily. Duncan Goose created a plan that would bring in a stream of funds used specifically to fund ‘Playpumps’.
Called ‘One Water’, the brand is growing in the UK and USA, rapidly catching on with big names and in turn filtering down to the street. The launch coincided conveniently with the Live8 concert in 2005 and became the brand of choice for the stars at the concert.
For every bottle sold, all of the profits go toward installing a ‘Playpump’ in a community that needs it. Ingenious, really – first world people buying water on the go in train stations or subways and in restaurants, with dollars and pounds being converted into African currencies, creating reliable water sources. For installing the pumps, One Water uses local contractors, creating work opportunities for local people. Revenue for advertising boards on the side of water storage tanks pays for a free text helpline ensuring that a team of trained professionals will attend to the pump and repair it should there be a problem.
The result is a community where the children are required to play in order to supply water. Instead of walking long distances to get water daily, children can now attend school and women can devote time and effort elsewhere, safe in the knowledge that they have safe and reliable water nearby.
At a time where fewer and fewer resources will be donated to areas that are strapped for funds, a sustainable plan that seems to work solely around benefiting a community that needs it is invaluable. It certainly allows one to believe that people with a social conscience, willing to put their money where their mouths are really do exist. Refreshing seems a poor pun. Inspiring? Unquestionably.
Take a look here:http://www.onedifference.org/uk/water/
Deep within the belly of the city the darkness looms and the clouds wrap their coolness around city’s personnel. The dampness seems never-ending, almost unbearable. It is dark, cold, wet, miserable; London during summer time. No, not really, that’s all a bit dramatic, but that’s how it feels to this Eastern Cape boytjie. Non-smiling, newspaper reading, granny ignoring bad weather. Whether the sun shines or not, the attitudes don’t change - cultures take centuries to become this stubborn. No outward showing of happiness. No outward showing of friendliness. No breaking of the mould. That just would not go with my tea love. Digestives are just too comforting.
On some level it sounds lovely and actually, it is. I love London. It is a fantastic place that offers so much. Grumpy Brits are par for the course and it wouldn’t be fish and chips without them. Take it on the chin and this treasure chest offers so much to anyone willing to plunge their hand deep into its depths. South Africans must take from it what it offers, a respite from the weak Rand and a ‘closer’ base from which to travel the world. It should not be a permanent base mind you, South Africa is far too precious for that. She has given us London Saffas too much for us to just brush her aside. South Africa has been bruised, disjointed, stubbed and broken throughout her history. We all owe her. Unfortunately not many are willing. They find themselves stuck in what I like to call the ‘out of Africa fever’. Only negative things are picked up upon. Her glass is considered bone dry, never mind half empty. That track of thinking is well oiled and to free oneself from those thoughts is tough. Very tough. And what makes me sad is that we all know better. We come from the land of pap and vleis; the land of smiles and vitamin D; the land of freedom. It is freedom that people have died for.
The United Kingdom is great, but limited. Walk down a road and count the number of video cameras recording your every step. Structure is key to our dear Brits, control is everything. To even stand on the left is enough to get one in an immense amount of trouble. Try it, I dare you. We South Africans are not used to this whole Big Brother idea. And that is not even the worst part of it. It just really feels like one is forced into being someone like everyone else. Stuck in the serpent’s tracks. No deviation from the tube or overland routes. “You go where we want you to go”. No change. Do not disturb. No freedom. And what I am talking about is not reckless freedom. It is not unlawfulness, something that annihilates our dear land. It is simply freedom in its purest form. True, unadulterated freedom. The ability to get into a car and drive into the bushveld. The blessing of standing on an unoccupied beach and taking in the mixture of sea-salt, crashing waves and seaweed. The joy of looking upon a mountain range and hearing one’s voice echo. The simple things really. Like a barefoot hippie running through Camden. Like a curry in Tooting. Like a kebab at one in the morning. Things that make you smile. But not a wide smile. Not a Mama Afrika smile. No, no those smiles are reserved for African soil. The southern variety in particular.
Music and politics have for many years been intertwined. In days gone by, during periods of oppression and recession, music has stood as the mouthpiece of protest. Alongside its theatre and poetry counterparts, music is one of the last true bastions of unleashed speech and one of the most difficult political voices to silence.
Anthems which stand out as rousing (and in most cases anti-) political tributes range from Bruce Springsteen's entire Vietnam collection, through The Clash's iconic London Calling and back around to pretty much everything the Manic Street Preachers did pre-1994. On home ground, the anguish of apartheid and South Africa's political struggle found its musical outlet in the dusty streets of Sophiatown where some of the legends of progressive jazz flexed their creative muscles alongside the genius of Hugh Masakela and Miriam Makeba. The fall of the Berlin Wall was even sat side by side with the music of its time when David Hasselhoff issued a warbling performance of his song “Looking For Freedom” which was an apt favourite around Germany at the time. For each political milestone, it seems, there is a fitting soundtrack.
22 April 2009 was an iconic political day in South Africa. Possibly as important as the April 1994 elections, Wednesday saw South Africans stand up and do their duty. Many, many songs have been written about the history of South Africa's violence, but 22 April 2009 was not a day that would go down in that history book. Rather, voters went to their polling stations, embraced their constitutional right to be a part of the country's ruling, let rip their versions of Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika and Shosoloza across the nation (with hopefully minimal renditions of old Jacob Zuma's favourite 'Lethu Mshini Wami’ – go and fetch your own machine gun) and democracy was served without any of that unnecessary blood shed. Sure Zuma took the crown, but there were droves coming out to ensure a strong opposition for the next 5 years.
For me, the day was yet another affirmation that the spirit of South Africa is alive and well. However, having voted in one of the more sterile white neighborhoods in Johannesburg, I was not party to any of the vibrant singing, dancing and toyi-toying that was available for sampling in other areas. So, in celebration of a day which will not be marked highly in South Africa's historical calendar of bad bad days, I decided to source my own voting soundtrack and took my brown blotched left thumb as my date to the Barnyard at Cresta Centre to watch Wonderboom and hopefully stock up on some classics. I was not disappointed.
The guys from Wonderboom are still the stalwarts of South African rock and probably the closest thing we have in our archives as a real rock 'n roll band (I would say the Nudies deserve that title, but with their yo-yo break up and get back together cycle, they just can't be trusted). The guys look the same and they sound the same and that reliability is something to be treasured, especially when their 13 year long catalogue of home-grown songs have played such a large part in the musical tapestry of post-apartheid South Africa. Personal favourites from the performance included Something's Wrong and Best Side. For the big Wonderboom supporters out there, you will be chuffed to know that the guys are working on some new material, so hopefully we will be seeing a new album out by mid-2009.
To be fair, I was so buoyed up on patriotic cheer by the end of the day that a razzling performance from Kurt Darren would have sent me into the throws of ecstasy, but luckily he wasn’t playing at the Barnyard that night. Wonderboom was. The talent is definitely still there and there is no better way to romance your just voted self on the African continent than through a rousing proclamation of the keepers of the City of Gold. So to the beat of the South African soil I bopped, studiously avoiding the sway of Cito’s hips and the bad behavior it always seems to imply. Wednesday wasn’t about bad behavior, it was about feeling the spirit of democracy through the voices of a band who know South Africa’s soul best, it was about taking the time to reflect and it was about giving my left thumb with the dodgy brown stain the down time it deserved to appreciate the impact of voting on one of South Africa’s most historically important days.
Oluchi and Choima Ogwuegbu are Nigerian sisters in the process of completing the adventure of a lifetime: a journey across the continent of Africa. Conscious of the negative images portrayed about their beloved continent, the sisters have long wished to be able to change this status quo – most especially among Africans themselves. So mid-2008, they started their journey ‘Celebrate Africa’, in West Africa, with the aim of sharing good news and offering their services to organisations improving standards of living. The final aim of the project is to produce a short film about each country visited. Equipped only with “...our creative minds and souls, plus our passion for our land”, the adventurous women travel by road as they believe this ensures they stay in touch with the people on the ground. So far they have visited Ghana, Burkina Faso, Gambia, Mali, Senegal, Guinea Bissau, Cameroon, Cote d ‘Ivoire, Guinea and Sierra Leone. They admit that, even as members of the pro-African movement, they have been blown away by the plethora of incredibly friendly people, the innovation amongst those who have nothing and the breath-taking beauty of the places they have visited. They say that what has surprised them most so far is the process of crossing the border from one country to another – something they expected to be like pulling teeth but which in reality has turned out to be a much easier and quicker process than expected. Currently the sisters are in Gabon and move on to Congo Brazzaville next. “Many young Africans, they all want to leave Africa. I’m not saying that Africa is perfect but our aim is to first tell Africans about what is here, what we do have here” says Choima.
When we talk about a dry run, it’s where you want to get a chance to strut your stuff or flex your muscles and see to what extent you are ready for a ‘big event’
This ‘big event’ I’m referring to in the South African context is the five week IPL (Indian Premier League) that went to bat in Cape Town last Saturday. Shortly after the IPL ends on 24 May, South Africa will host football's Confederations Cup in June.
According to media coverage, the so called ‘big wigs’ in the ministry of safety and security have stated that South Africa is ready for both the IPL and the Confederations Cup.
There is an air of confidence shared by this ministry that the first African nation to host the IPL and World Cup final will manage it without problems, despite the country's reputation for violent crime.
In the words of singer, Alanis Morissette, ‘isn’t that ironic don’t ya think’ that the IPL competition was relocated to South Africa after the terror attacks on Sri Lanka's cricketers in Pakistan in March.
I am not saying that South Africa is at risk of terror attacks. I simply see the irony in the violence of India necessitating a move to South Africa – renowned for being one of the most violent countries in the world.
I have no doubt in my mind that South Africa is ready for whatever tournament we are set to host. I would be willing to put all my stock on the fact that all major sporting events held in the country will go as smoothly as possible. Stadiums will work efficiently, hospitality will be more than adequate and all the facilities necessary will suffice. My concern is the public safety.
Hearing CEO of South Africa's World Cup Organising Committee, Danny Jordaan state, "As a country and as the South African police service, we are saying that we will be able to create a safe environment for those coming for the matches to ensure that they are safe and enjoy a true World Cup experience” does not make me at all comfortable.Ensuring our safety at a venue goes without saying. It is the getting off the plane, going to the hotel, travelling around and seeing the sights that I am worried about.
I try to remain positive when I get into debates about the country where I grew up and have so many good memories, but after just coming back from a holiday at home, I have firsthand experience and don’t want to sugar-coat what I see as reality any longer.
Yes, South Africa has the capacity to host these events, definitely, but I strongly believe the public’s safety is more of an issue and I have not seen any evidence that safety in the country is getting better, and it is for that, faithful readers, I will be sitting in my house here in the UK watching the World Cup from the comfort and safety of my living room.
Not a very positive note to end my article on – I know, but if anything it sings home what I am trying to achieve, by acknowledging South Africa’s infrastructuralreadiness versus how this World Cup event will be spoilt if there is no improvement in public safety.
Playwright and stage director working freelance. Passion for many things, trying to find an interest in any of them. 80s brat with big dreams and limited attention span.
