I live and work in Pretoria, a bustling
cosmopolitan metropolis that is lauded as the biggest city in Africa (at
least in breadth). Bustling and cosmopolitan for the moneyed and the
non-blacks, not for the masses who shuffle up and down the city’s
Jacaranda lined pavements daily. I love Pretoria, the city, but not
necessarily her history, or her people whose present seems so deeply
intertwined with the city’s history that as a “black” African, I must
defend my turf (silently, sometimes loudly). I moved to Pretoria in
February 2009 to work. It was a dream come true. To work in the city
with the most foreign representation on the continent, touted as
cosmopolitan and “modern.”
I shared the news with those with ears. I
was living with my sister and her husband at the time and both had
their reservations. My sister asked me how I’d “survive” in Pretoria
with all the racism and the then recent spates of xenophobia (I don’t
know how to say “ear” in Setswana!). I told them that I didn’t think
either of these interrelated phenomenon remained in the country’s
capital, and if so that they would be extreme. I was wrong, they were
right. I would soon learn that there’s little space for "black" in the
rainbow, and none at all for black people from other African countries…
not yet anyway. In fact, on closer inspection you’ll find that there’s
not much brown either!
Fast forward almost 5 years later, I sat
in my home in Pretoria, and read with an odd mix of interest, anger,
shock and relief, the article by Neo Maditla on “rental racism” in Cape Town.
Interest because issues of racism and classism intrigue me and South
Africa is riddled with these. Anger because as a black person from
outside South Africa, I have experienced similar “rental racism” and
“rental xenophobia” 1550km away and in the dorps, towns and cities
in-between. In 2007, I struggled to get a digs in little Grahamstown
after I left university residence because few “non-liberal” white folk
wanted to share with a 'darkie' and black South Africans kept querying
my nationality! In 2012, after “securing” a lovely duet in a quiet
neighbourhood East of Pretoria, the agent’s email tone changed once I
indicated that I was Zimbabwean. After initially informing me that the
security deposit would be 1.5 months’ rent plus admin costs, he sent me a
terse email with a revised “addendum” that now included a curiously out
of place addition that foreigners must pay 3 months’ rent as deposit.
I was to learn later on that rental
agents were rolling out this “new” requirement. My reading of it was “We
don’t want foreigners living in our houses,” considering most people
are lucky if they get half their deposits back! I have blacklisted
(excuse the unfortunate pun) Trafalgar along with a few other agencies
operating in Pretoria.
I read Neo’s article in shock, not at
the article itself, but at the writer because she seemed to think this
phenomenon was unique to Cape Town and/or out of the South African norm.
Further, that the article suggested that the unfair discrimination was
just a race issue. It isn’t. Relief (and let me explain here) because
FINALLY someone had cared to share the tales of the many who have
suffered this fate. And it wasn’t me. You see, whenever I say anything
vaguely negative about South Africa (even if it is to say that I hate
rugby and that cricket bores me), I am attacked and told that I must “go
back to Africa where [I] came from.” So it was refreshing to read an
article by a South African calling out other South Africans for their
prejudices. And it wasn’t in the dreaded News24 comments section!
While, it would be unfair to
over-generalise and say that Pretoria (and Cape Town) is a racist and
xenophobic city. Allow me to be unfair at this juncture. The irony of
racism and xenophobia in Pretoria and Cape Town (and elsewhere really)
is that they are juxtaposed with the internationalisation of the
country. It is paradoxical.
Pretoria, as the country’s capital is a
hub of international activity, with expats living in secure estates and
meeting for Latin cocktails and salsa classes on the regular. Cape Town
as the “design” capital of the country, the seat of parliament has its
all round “we’re so glamorous, we don’t see colour, creed nor
nationality, except if you are poor here” vibe. Ah. Never mind.
I speak of racism and xenophobia in the
same breath because these two are inextricably linked in South Africa. I
am yet to hear of Greek shop-owners being mistreated and/or violently
assaulted by angry “local” mobs. In fact, whenever foreigners are
attacked in South Africa, the victims are invariably black. And African.
I contend that black Africans are targeted because to their attackers
they symbolize something that they are struggling to attain. After
decades of a repressive white regime in which black people were regarded
and treated as inferior, many still struggle to accept that black
people can succeed. That black people can carve a niche for themselves
and soldier on despite seemingly insurmountable challenges. So when a
black foreign person succeeds where they could not, it is viewed as a
greater injustice than when a white foreign person does so. It does not
compute. It makes no sense. But xenophobia is nonsensical.
It is clear to me that xenophobia and
all other forms of hatred towards people perceived as the "other" are
nothing more than external manifestations of one’s own internal
self-loathing and/or feelings of inadequacy. As if by killing off those
you "fear" are taking away your resources (resources which you claim
entitlement to, whether or not you really are entitled to them is
another issue altogether) you'll suddenly become better. That
exterminating the other will solve your problems. It is intriguing that
whenever people experience racism and xenophobia, it is almost always
from (near) strangers.
The racism and xenophobia I have
suffered has mostly come from people who don’t know me, people who
attempt to measure my successes and failures within a split second at
the till at my local supermarket and decide there and then that I am
either not worthy of their services or grab hold of their bags because,
the flying spaghetti monster forbid, I might just try to snatch their
handbag and run home. I have suffered xenophobia from people who decide
that because I am Zimbabwean, I must smell a certain way, speak a
certain way, walk a certain way and all of this must not be done in
South Africa. I must do and be it in Zimbabwe.
In 2008, while getting my hair washed at
a side street salon (because high-end, yet reasonably priced beauty
parlours for black people are still hard to find in South Africa), my
South African hairdresser, who obviously had no idea I was not South
African, candidly remarked, “Foreigners steal our jobs.” The ever
diligent person that I am, and obviously not wanting her to chop off my
ailing mane, I waited until she was done styling my hair to tell her
that I was a foreigner and I had no intention of stealing her (or
anyone’s job). I added that, as a foreigner, it was harder for me to get
work despite being an above average student in university. She hissed
at me and accused me of “passing off as South African.” My hair was in
an acceptable state and I wasn’t in the mood for more idle chitchat, so I
made a quick escape. She didn’t physically attack me and I doubt she
had any plans to. However, it was people just like her who months prior
and in the months and years to follow, took to the streets
in a widespread attack on foreigners on the basis of her very
allegation. That black foreigners were here to steal jobs from black
South Africans and must go back from whence they came.
It is sad and terribly disheartening
that our world is cluttered with degenerate human beings who, despite
millions of years of evolution, still fail to accept that the "other"
does not really exist. What cowardice it is to attack someone because of
(mis)perceived differences and unfounded stereotypes. The problem of
xenophobia is particularly riling because more often than not it
manifests in violence. It astounds me that one can discriminate against
another because they hail from across an imaginary line. People forget
that we are all one and the same despite some differences in external
physical appearance, concentrations of melanin, and language.
I struggle to reconcile the on going
xenophobia(violent or otherwise) with what I know of South Africa’s
battle for liberation. Did South African people not recently celebrate
and ululate at the demise (or perceived demise) of apartheid? Did that
freedom "just" happen? Was it not through the actions of a vast majority
of people – many of whom were foreigners – that South Africa became
"free"? Many of South Africa’s heroes sought refuge in neighbouring
African countries where they were treated, not as visitors, but as
family – brothers in arms. Harbouring exiled freedom "fighters" is but
one of many ways through which foreigners aided the South African
"revolution." Were it not for the same foreigners being attacked today,
"freedom" might not exist in South Africa (well, not for most people
anyway). But I digress…
From newspaper articles, you would think
that society agrees that xenophobic violence is appalling, yet little
seems to be done to arrest the problem. What are WE really doing about
it? By sitting back and doing nothing are we not part of the problem?
Issues such as these should be debated in the public domain, protests
should be held and those who have, through their xenophobic violence,
harmed others (psychologically, physically, emotionally or otherwise)
should be brought to book. Something can be done. There needs to be a clear legislative framework that addresses xenophobia and it must be properly implemented.
PS: As I write, xenophobia remains a
real and immediate threat for many Africans living in South Africa. The
Institute for Security Studies will, on 12 December 2013, host a seminar on why Somali immigrants continue to suffer the brunt of xenophobic attacks in the country.
PPS: I use the South African
nomenclature for racial identifiers as a (strange type of) courtesy to
the readers. Personally, I struggle with the use of “black” to identify
people of African origin, as I am yet to meet a “black” person (shades
of brown, yes. Black? No.) Also, white doesn’t sit well.
Ottilia Anna Maunganidze is a
researcher and international criminal law expert at the Pretoria-based
Institute for Security Studies. She writes in a personal capacity.
This was originally posted on Umuntokanje and uses some content from previous writings by the author.
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