Alice Walker Continued... 17/09/2010
This year the University of Cape Town had invited Alice Walker to give the Steve Biko memorial lecture. I went with a friend and as expected she was superb. She spoke about how the world had watched us South Africans rise to greatness and how we had been admired for our ability to overcome. Now, she said, the world was watching us in utter amazement, stunned by the scandals, the corruption, the greed and the violence. Our choices of leadership seem incomprehensible. She ended by saying that it was time that we reminded ourselves of how great we are and that we should rise again. Her advice was that we should form circles and work from within those circles to bring about change. Alice Walker received a standing ovation. I left the hall admiring her rhetoric, but otherwise uninspired and surprisingly, mildly irritated. I recognised that what she had said rang true and yet I felt judged by an outsider who could not possibly understand the circumstances that lead to our "unintelligent" choices. We are living in a country where the majority of people live in poverty, are illiterate and find themselves without prospects for a better future. Given these circumstances, can we then expect people to elect a cold and distant intellectual over a rogue who promises to deliver? Why is it that when we as a nation choose to turn the other cheek to all the whites who have wronged us in the past, the world smiles upon us. Yet when our nation choses to do the same for a black man the world condemns us? Should we be judged like that? Or should this so-called intelligent world do some introspection and admit that the idyllic post-apartheid South Africa was created because the world needed to believe in it? The world needed to believe that we were super-humans who could overnight forgive and forget, because by doing so problem South Africa went away. In reality we were no super-humans. We were no more willing to forgive and forget than anyone else. Nelson Mandela, our beloved Madiba, had many years away from the madness and when he walked out of prison he was a man with a mission. He chose to move forward with humanity. Those of us who were ready to receive his gift embraced it and began to fight our demons. Most were not ready for his gift though. Too much hurt, too much pain had been inflicted. Poverty was too great and the need to survive over-shadowed everything else. So we chose a leader with a plan and we stuck with him. We did not go to war, because Mandela said so. Had Mandela said otherwise, who knows what our country would look like today. So the world should not be shocked that we are human. The world should not want to remind us of our greatness when we chose being human. The world should not say we have lost the plot when we collectively fail to rise above our circumstances, all the time. We have seen moments of greatness as a nation. Every day ordinary people do extraordinary things and reach greatness, but all of us all the time? No. We are too fragile, too human for that. So world, please do not preach to us about how great we were and should be again. Instead, see us, our humanness. Accept it and let that be our gift to you. Add Comment Last night Alice Walker gave the Steve Biko Memorial lecture at UCT. Her talk left me uncomfortable with the way the world sees South Africa. It also left me wondering why a foreigner can say these things and get a standing ovation, but when a son or daughter from our soil voices those same sentiments he or she will get boooed of the stage. Do we really attribute so much more importance to outsiders or are we just politely humouring them while reserving our true feelings for our compatriots? What was the significance of the shifiting on seats following statements about Winnie Mandela? And, this pedestal we are placed on, do we deserve that? Did we ask for that? She stirred something, and I am not yet sure what. I need more time to work through my discomfort. Your wish is my command 07/09/2010
I came across The Fringe Arts a good few months ago, just when the Spier Contemporary Exhibition was closing down. Intrigued by the concept of their pop-up shop, I looked them up on the Internet. When they popped up in Green Point during the World Cup, I paid them a visit. It was love at first sight. I remember thinking that I would love to work in a place like that. Then, I forgot all about it and just enjoyed being there. So when I saw that they were looking to expand their team, I sent my CV. I have no background in either art or design and certainly no sales experience, so other than my love for beauty and an inexplicable infatuation with this business, I had no leg to stand on. Then again, I had sent that wish out to the Universe and it would be a slap in the face not to pursue the opportunity now… To make a long story short: I met with both the owners and on Monday I am starting at The Fringe Arts’ next pop-up shop. A case of the forces of the Universe conspiring to make happen what your heart desires, I think. Back 21/07/2010
It's been a while, but I am back. Watch this space! Women's Day 10/08/2009
My feelings around Women's Day have always been ambivalent. I am not that sure what it is we are supposed to celebrate. Oh, I get that women are splendid beings who deserve a fuss. I also get that we should honour all the great women who came before us and contributed to elevate our position in society. My problem is that with that knowledge and with that gratitude comes a degree of anger, because I ask myself why women are in such a dismal position to begin with. Attempts to answer that question only raise more questions, and fan the flames. See, nature is cruel to women. Any woman who has ever brought a child into this world by pushing it through an S-bend will know what I am talking about. And it does not stop there. The survival of the newborn depends entirely on the mother's ability to nurse and go without sleep, while the male partner can choose to what extend he wants to be involved in the upbringing of his offspring. Women do not have that choice. Women have to endure the pain, give and go without or the child will die. How is that not cruel? How is that not unfair? How is it not unjust that those who ensure the survival of humankind are not the most revered beings of our species? What are we then celebrating on Women's Day? That we were and are denied our rights, but because we put up a good fight and made some advances to restore the situation, we get a special day? Am I the only one who is uncomfortable with this? Feel free to comment. Just another manic Monday 03/08/2009
Monday morning, the beginning of yet another week. I got up all shiny eyed and bushy tailed. List of things to do in mind. Dealt with the usual morning chaos then brewed my daily dose of sanity in a mug . That's when it all went wrong. The garden service arrived. Thought it would be a good day to trim the trees and let more sun into the house. Who can refuse more sun? I let them in. That was three hours ago. We don't have that many trees, three the last time I counted, and not that big. They seem to need a lot of trimming though, cause for the past three hours I have been entertained by the sounds of hacking, sawing and whatever else they are doing out there. I cannot leave, cause that would mean locking them onto the property. So I have to live with njaauwnjaauw hunhun njaauwnjaauw brmmmm brmmmm for who knows how much longer. I feel a migraine is heading my way... Farewell 25/07/2009
We said good bye today. My cousin, the saxophonist, played when she was brought into church. The tunes so pure it filled every inch of the hall and my soul. His last note left a silence that echoed the stillness inside. Nothing else needed to be said or done. For me, the music had done it all. It had reached where no words, no reason could go. Then, her daughter did the most courageous thing of all: She walked out in front of all those people and sang. There, for the whole world to see, she lived through her pain and created beauty. It left me feeling fragile. At the same time it gave me courage. Ache 20/07/2009
My heart aches. Last night my cousin's wife passed away and I cannot stop thinking of the two young children who now have to go through life without a mother. How on earth does one deal with that? Oh, I can promise to be there and give them all the love and support they want, but I am not their mother. I could never be. She was always very strict with them. Now it all makes so much sense. She did not have that much time to teach them right from wrong and so she had to teach them all she could in the short time that she would have with them. I still see her walking down the aisle in her wedding dress. Smiling from ear to ear. None of us could ever have guessed that it would end this way, and so soon. Yet here it is; she has gone, her husband and kids are here and we are left speechless with this ache, ache, ache... It's raining it's pouring 25/04/2009
Finally, the weather has changed. It's raining, it's pouring. Gone are the hot summer days of walking barefoot on the grass. Enter the knits and boots. Call me juggler 21/04/2009
I am often asked how one becomes a writer. I don't like this question, because the answer is so simple it seems unbelievable: You become a writer by writing. You don't become a writer by talking about your great idea, you don't become a writer by wishing for it. No, you become a writer by sitting down and doing the work. There is no magic formula. | 
I am an arts administrator and writer living in Cape Town. Most of my writing consists of business documentation for small organisations, but I also write the odd opinion piece and poetry. When I am not writing I like to spend time with my family and friends, watch a movie, listen to music, walk and read lots.
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