Back in 2006 Kubatana featured the art of Josiah Bob Taundi, a Zimbabwean interested in depicting everyday life in our country and how politics affects how we live our lives.

Just recently Josiah launched his own online gallery which we enourage you to visit. See more here.

Josiah describes himself as:

a self-taught artist from a piece of earth called called Zimbabwe, south of Africa. I’m inspired by people in their different circumstances. They could be happy, sad or confused. I love colour. Africa is a land of living colour. But I try to be as true and realistic as possible. I don’t paint nice pictures to solely please the eye of the beholder. My motivation to paint is to communicate an important message. It may social, political or economic. I’m a commentator and encourage debate around real issues affecting the human condition. I paint intensely after long hiatuses.

Do yourself a favour and visit Poetry International to read some great poetry from around the world. The current  featured Zimbabwean poet is Freedom T.V. Nyamubaya. Editor Irene Staunton introduces her as “a rural development activist, farmer, dancer and writer who was born in Uzumba. Cutting short her secondary school education in 1975, she left to join the Zimbabwe National Liberation Army in Mozambique where she achieved the rank of Female Field Operation Commander, later being elected Secretary for Education in the first ZANU Women’s League conference in 1979.”

Here is one of Freedom T.V. Nyamubaya’s poems from 2009.

Coming and Going

In Zimbabwe rain is an event
Like the sighting of a new moon
In the fasting month of Ramadan
The butterflies display a short-lived beauty
Before they become the sparrow’s festive dish
Beautiful angels in a distant dream
Of babies in the reeds and life after death.

There are more prophets of doom
Than angels from Heaven
Most rivers are silted
With fertilisers and asbestos powder

From the higher-ranking scientific politicians
Whose power to stop development
Can be measured in kilogrammes of pain
No gatecrashers at Heroes Acre please!
You have to have been mafia to qualify

So I have a problem with making fashion out of dead legends. I am sure you have all seen bags and T-shirts bearing the images of greats like Steve Biko and Martin Luther King Jnr. I often cringe to think that these men, who fought for the emancipation of their people, now find themselves pasted onto brightly coloured garb, forming a part of popular culture.

Okay, so I think it’s important for young people to be conscious of the past, to be able to identify with the efforts of predecessors who have paved the way for a better today. But I am not so sure if a T-shirt will achieve this. What about a visit to a museum or a look through a history book?

Oh, but you will tell me that young people don’t have time for that, that between Face Book and their i-pods, there is simply no time for that. So how exactly does regalia ensure that these people are conscious of who these heroes are?

I tend to feel that all these artefacts are commercial gimmicks that ensure that ordinary people feed into the capitalist machine. In a world where everything and everyone famous is patented, it’s not hard to see how all these products largely serve the interests of a few. So we think it’s cool and conscious to buy something that says Kenyatta on it, or to cruise around wearing something emblazoned with Saartjie Baartman’s derriere when all it usually is some company churning out mass-produced goods for the health of their pockets and not history.

I do agree that these products make young people more curious about the past, but it’s saying something if they are not made aware of history within the school setting, or at home.

I remember that when I was in high school – at a private school – we were never taught Zimbabwean liberation war history because our school believed it was time to bury the hatchet between blacks and whites, the two main race groups in our school. And so instead, we learnt about Chinese feudalism, the Egyptian pyramids, 18th Century England and everything else that took us away from the gory details of Rhodesian history. I believe that was the wrong way to go about things.

Imagine if German kids weren’t taught about Nazism. It’s an ugly horrible shameful past, but one that must be confronted and accepted. It is what happened, and this can never change.

And it still saddens me to think that many young people, like I once did, go to school in Zimbabwe and know zip about their own culture and history. Sadly, T-shirts, caps and bags aren’t the real solution to unlocking one’s history.

It is a far more intricate process of unraveling the hidden layers of self.

I would like to make a few comments that connect to two excellent recent Kubatana blogs­the first by Amanda Atwood concerning Uganda’s Anti-Homosexuality Bill and the second by Catherine Makoni concerning the troublesome PSI research/adverts.

Both blogs effectively highlight worrying ideological agendas and human rights violating desires for control over peaceful citizens.  Moreover, both blogs increase our awareness of the negative consequences when political leaders, research projects, and TV ad executives allow fear of difference to direct the way they think and how they develop policies, design research, and disseminate information.  It is with pain in my heart that in the last few days I have been inundated with people spewing ideas predicated on fear of difference.  Just the other day I read a fear of difference article by William Lungisani Chigidi entitled Shona Taboos: The Language of Manufacturing Fears for Sustainable Development.

It is of course important to discuss taboos or what are also called avoidance rules so as to better understand some of what shapes the complex cultural, economic, health, political, judicial, and social issues and circumstances in Zimbabwe, and world over.  What shocked me and made my stomach turn is that Chigidi overtly advocates that Zimbabwean society ought to instill more fear and formally adopt more avoidance rules to ensure that citizens “appropriately” conform to a morally upright socializing process.  Chigidi writes:

For example, the avoidance rules can be employed to tackle the HIV/AIDS pandemic.  For instance, why can’t it be said that ‘If you have sex while you are still young you will suffer from chicken pox’;  ‘If you become intimate with an animal your private parts will disappear one day’; ‘If you kiss a boy/girl you will lose all your hair’; ‘If you hug a boy/girl you will be raped by a vagabond’; ‘If you become intimate with a relative you will die in your sleep’; ‘If you become intimate with another man/woman (homosexuality/lesbianism) you will be struck by lightning.’  Avoidance rules such as these, and expressed in descent Shona language of course, will invoke in the minds of the young frightening images that will scare them from improper behavior.  That could save lives.

I’m not sure I want to write a blog per se.  More I think I want to rant.  This article is one of the most unsettling things I have ever read.  How in the world can someone so overtly advocate instilling fear, in children no less?  Why in the world does someone think it makes sense to tell children flat out lies?  What would be wrong with thoughtfully engaging children, adolescents, and adults in dialogue to better understand and appreciate human diversity, while also unpacking what drives inequities and injustices in the world?  At least Chigidi’s aim is to save lives.  But, it is not fear nor fear of difference that are going to save lives.  Discussion and productively celebrating difference is what saves lives.

And finally, one last quibble about the article.  Simply to say that writing homosexuality/lesbianism is unnecessarily repetitive.  Albeit a pejorative term, homosexuality describes a sexual relationship between individuals of the same sex.  A homosexual relationship could be between men or between women.  Why use both homosexuality and lesbianism to reference the same thing?  The answer, in part, lies in the analysis that Catherine’s blog presents concerning troublesome representations of women.  In the case of unnecessarily using lesbianism when already having used homosexuality, we are looking at the opposite end of troublesome representations of women and their sexuality’s.  If women are not problematically cast, as Catherine writes, as highly sexed, morally depraved individuals, the other common casting follows the patriarchal worldview depicting women as sexually passive and meant only to serve men’s needs.  With this ill-conceived line of thinking then, the term homosexuality is perceived as unable to incorporate a female same-sex sexual relationship given that, in a patriarchal worldview, women (straight, lesbian, or bisexual) don’t choose to have sex.

My visit to Johannesburg recently brought back memories of my mother, oddly enough, watching the construction that was taking place – the longsuffering looks on the strained faces of drivers who have long resigned themselves to being daily inconvenienced by the activities taking place to spruce up the city before the world comes charging in.

I was reminded of similar days when the family was expecting some important guest and the whole house would be turned upside down and we would be exiled outside with strict orders to steer clear of mama and her broomstick.
I always resented the disruption such visits brought to our lives – there would be the shifting of bedrooms and suddenly I would find myself sleeping on the floor while the ‘dignitary’ enjoy the luxury of my single bed and the comfort of mama’s best sheets and bed linen.

I somehow got the distinct impression that the average South African is hard pressed not to grumble at the inconvenience that the 2010 is bringing as the powers that be pull all the stops to present a sparkling clean image when America, Europe and the rest of the world descends upon them.

And all the while the media keeps harping on about the great ‘opportunities’ that 2010 presents to South Africans as a way of placating them, no doubt – in much the same way my mother used to gain our cooperation to be on our best behaviour by reminding us that the visitors would mean a delectable menu of dishes would be served.

Of course she would neglect to inform us that we would have to settle for the mouth-watering aromas that would waft towards our rooms to which we were confined – out of sight – while the VIPs were served in the family living room and even now I don’t know which was worse – missing my favourite TV shows or having leftovers when I had been promised a scrumptious meal.
So it is with the majority of South Africans whose cooperation has been bought by cleverly worded campaigns, messages, logos and slogans assuring them that they would all have a piece of the 2010 action.

The sad truth however, is that for many South Africans, the World Cup will not translate to any meaningful change in their lives – it will not bring them running water, it will not substitute candles for the brilliance of florescent light, it will not put food on their tables, or clothe their children’s backs or even turn their shacks into concrete palaces.

Recently after interviewing women at the various markets in Johannesburg with the aim of writing a story on how enthusiastic, excited and hopeful they were about capitalizing on 2010 Tanzanian journalist, Angel Navuri met with tales of woe.

“Food vendors cannot take the food to the stadiums because they have been forbidden to go there. It is certain that beneficiaries will be the big hotels, tour operators, and those who already have money will make more money. And the small traders have been excluded from engaging in any economic activity that would have seen them making any significant gains through the 2010,” reported Navuri.

Is it always the case that in order to be hospitable one must, for a time anyway, place the welfare of strangers ahead of their own family, or country men? What is that thing they say about charity beginning at home?
As a child I struggled to reconcile this tendency of being pushed to the periphery whenever more ‘special’ people deigned to visit us with being loved or appreciated in the family.

I mean I seemed pretty dispensable back then and the whims of those visitors took precedence over my needs making me wonder if mama perhaps loved them more than she did me.

But those were childhood musings, as a woman I have grown to resent the hypocrisy that forces us to always ‘keep up appearances’ going so far as to disown, reject and hurt our own.

So whose 2010 is it anyway?

It’s certainly not the market trader’s because they have been told to steer clear of the stadiums (we wouldn’t want the visitors to see them because they’re too plain and might mar the exquisite stadium facilities) instead space will be created to accommodate the fancy restaurants with gourmet chefs and first class menus.

It won’t be the fruit or airtime vendor because they would make the stadiums look shabby and the visitors cannot be expected to put up with the sight of people walking up and down earning an honest living – they can get airtime at the hotels or their taxi drivers can ferry them to the nearest state of the art shopping mall where they will be spared the ugly sights of Johannesburg’s filth lined dark alleys.

School will be closed for the whole month and people will be expected to put their lives on hold while the powers that be pander to the wishes of the Western visitors whose arrival will be expected to leave Joburg awash with freshly minted pounds, dollars, euros and francs amongst other currencies.

And the so called job opportunities and job creation resulting from the 2010 preparations smack of my mother’s subterfuge exaggerating the benefits that would accrue to us if we put up with a ‘little’ discomfort to make room for our esteemed guests.

Asked about how excited (who wouldn’t be right?) the women traders were about all the money they stood to make from foreign clients in 2010; one of them identified only as ‘Mama Ice’ retorted: “This World Cup will come for only 28 days out of a whole year. We have already been told that we are not wanted at the stadiums by the municipality and we hear this FIFA of theirs has standards and we are not good enough for them so what has 2010 got to do with us?”

And they will not be the only ones finding themselves looking in from the outside while the World Cup passes them by as African journalists may very well find themselves playing second fiddle to foreign sports reporters who will be better equipped, better sponsored and probably given preferential treatment ahead of Africans who are after all ‘family’ and can make room for the ‘guests’ – but that’s a story for another day.

If only Zimbabwe had a free press and politicians who could handle some fun poked at them. Compare our media environment with South Africa’s where Nandos have just launched an ad campaign that focuses on South Africa’s “shameless ministerial gravy train“. Any chance of Wimpy doing the same here? Fat chance.