A YEARNING TO BE FREE

In a foreword to his Sesotho novel, entitled ‘Matsatsi a Tjhaba ka ho Fapana’ finalist of the notable 200 Young South Africans celebrated by the Mail & Guardian in 2016, Thabiso Mofokeng, writes a bittersweet tribute to the victims of the tragic events that occurred at the Marikana area in August 2012 preceding the protracted farm-workers’ strike in De Doorns, Western Cape.

The aforementioned tribute reads:

‘Mahlatsipa ohle koduweng ya Marikana; Ha e ne eba ke a lora ke ne ke tla phaphama ka potlako empa ke moo… Ha mohau wa Ramasedi o be le lona.’

Indeed, in times when we are faced with ghastly atrocities and insurmountable pain, we wish that somehow it could all be a dream. A nightmare unlived. Banished from memory.

And, yes, as Archbishop Tutu conceded that in such times ‘we hang our heads in shame as we witness our extraordinary capacity to be vicious, cruel and almost devoid of humanness’ – when he lamented in unison with the Rwandese people, that ‘the angels have left us!’

Having witnessed such similar atrocities in our country; in Boipatong – 1992, in Bisho (Bhisho) – in the then semi-autonomous homeland of Ciskei  – same year, in the townships of Gauteng and other parts of our beloved motherland we adopted the 1996 Constitution as the Supreme law of the Republic so as to…

• Lay the foundations for a democratic and open society in which government is based on the will of the people and every citizen is equally protected by law;
• Improve the quality of life of all citizens and free the potential of each person…

What I’ve cited here is the letter of the Constitution. Principal to the letter of the Constitution is the spirit of Ubuntu; motho ke motho ka motho yo mongwe. That’s what informed the process of drafting the South African Constitution. A yearning to be free, working together; ‘to build a democratic and open society in which government is based on the will of the people.’

It seems we have lost our way. The brutal killings of the workers of Lonmin mine by the security police in Marikana five years ago and lack of retribution thereof, are part testament that we have lost our way.

What happened, in essence, is that workers sought fair living wages and improved working conditions. Bosses refused to engage them, for in their eyes they deserve not to live free, they are subhuman; destined to toil under scorching heat for all their years of service and never to taste freedom.

This is what has happened. It is a prevailing course of daily life for many, still. But it was this very thing we sought to abolish by adopting our Constitution. And yet, still, many yearn for the day they’ll live free. Freedom. Not euphoria.

In 1992 eBisho, marching for the removal of military leader Brigadier Joshua Gqozo to allow for democratic reforms in Ciskei, as the marchers tried to cross Ciskei Defence Force lines from Transkei to enter Bisho, Gqozo’s soldiers opened fire.

The revelations of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission tell us that 28 marchers and one soldier died, over 200 marchers were injured. Many would know that one of the leaders of this march was today’s Deputy President of our country, Cyril Ramaphosa.

Two decades succeeding that march eBisho, we’ve learned from the Marikana Commission of Inquiry that it was Deputy President Cyril Ramaphosa who advocated for ‘concomitant action’ to stop the mineworkers’ strike. In addition, describing the cries of the miners with pejorative language, Ramaphosa said ‘the terrible events that have unfolded cannot be described as a labour dispute. They are plainly dastardly criminal and must be characterised as such.’

What occurred the day after the Deputy President sent out such pointed instructions is that 34 mineworkers were killed in cold blood. Speaking of the tragic events of eBisho when the Ciskei soldiers opened fire on the marchers, Cyril Ramaphosa said, on the BBC documentary ‘Nelson Mandela – The Fight for Freedom’:

‘I have never been as terrified as I was… I thought I was actually quite close to death.’

It is not just a tragic irony. It is almost incomprehensible. Our extraordinary capacity to be nearly devoid of humanness. The striking mineworkers of Marikana were treated with disdain by mine bosses, government officials and ultimately the security police.

As ordinary people, fellow mourners, family and friends of the victims of Marikana, as Thabiso Mofokeng has written; if only it was but a dream, we’d hurriedly arise out of our sleep. However, faced with our prevailing reality and realising that we have lost our way; we have to define ourselves out of our wilderness with creative meaning, so as to reclaim the South Africa of our dreams as we set out in the 1996 Constitution.

As we grapple for our way, we might perhaps be comforted and encouraged by the songstress Miriam Makeba singing with beautiful melancholy, about the conditions of mineworkers as they affect the working class people of our country, in the song ‘Hauteng’/ The City of Gold:

Kgauteng,

Kgauteng,

Kgutsanyana tsa ka di felletse teng,

Kgutsanyana tsa ka di felletse teng,

Kgauteng,

Kgauteng.

Utlwang dillo

Tsa banna ba rona ba shwetseng komponeng,

Banna ba rona ba shwetseng komponeng.

Kgauteng,

Kgauteng.

Let us hear the cries of our men who have died in search of a better living, digging for gold and diamonds, at the hands of the masters who value capital over humans.

We have lost our way. We need to regroup before we descend into an abyss – allowing our humanity to spiral into mere anarchy. 

 

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Featured Image: Marco Longari/AFP