This past December I laughed so hard just seconds after my long-time girlfriend had hopped into the car. I’d picked her up for lunch on one gloomy overcast afternoon in the capital Mbabane. She’s always cracked me up. This time I had irritably remarked, “I can’t wait to get back to Jo’burg, this weather sucks just like this pothole-riddled street I’m driving on”.
My remark was met half-way by a sharp “Aw’seyekele wena ntfombi yakuMatsetsa…yimihlolo yetfu” (meaning “Oh please! A girl from Matsetsa now knows things suck?”). That’s when I just burst into fits of laughter as she went on… “It’s the same with your facebook statuses, you are practically unhappy and critical about everything here, if it’s not the weather it’s the roads or the cabinet ministers or the Church, the police or the pubs…I mean what was that you wrote the other day ‘I've arrived in the (Swazi)land of Sex, Alcohol and Jesus. In that (dis)order thank you #KnowYourCountry’? What was that huh?
Her story
I am a girl from Matsetsa - a rural community about 40 minutes outside Manzini, the other main town of the kingdom of Swaziland. It’s my hood. Well not exactly because I turn right into a small dirt road at Matsetsa Store towards Matsetsa Nazarene Schools and drive for another 10km before I’m in the warmth of my mother’s humble dwelling at Mvutjini, kaLanga– the place I call home.
Anyway by the time we were done with lunch I had reminded her, and our other girlfriend who had joined us agreed with me, of how she was the last person to harshly judge my utter and action based on where I come from.
Between giggles I reminded her of how when she was in London four years ago, she had posted a facebook status; “In a few months it’s back to hunting and gathering in Africa…for good”. I had to remind her too that about 10 months into returning to Swaziland permanently, she lamented about how she was still struggling with “feeling at home” where there’s a popular saying: “There’s no hurry in Swaziland”.
As light-hearted as our conversation may have been, for me, it spoke to a few serious issues that over some time I’ve quietly pointed out and analyzed about my country, my people and myself. As you may have picked up from my conversation with my friend, I’m quite vocal and provocative on the social networks – I have appointed myself the official facebook Social/political Commentator, especially about Swaziland. Lol.
I must admit at first I felt bad when my friends told me how they cringed each time I posted an update about a serious issue AND even the fact that I have the audacity to write about topics like governance and people in government, a very uncomfortable speaking point for may Swazis for several reasons which I hope this article will be able to unpack.
Being a self-appointed Commentator on Swaziland politics and lifestyle comes with immense flak as you would expect. So some of my Swazi facebook friends who’ve known me since I was a little girl post comments like “Just because you ran away to Jo’burg and are paying tax to enrich Zuma’s country instead of paying tax in your own country which in fact paid for the tertiary education that got you a job in South Africa in the first place, you now badmouth our Kingdom.”
Some will say, “Even that South Africa you live in has worse problems than we do, at least here in the kingdom we don’t have people living in shacks or glorified shacks called RDP houses, people begging at every traffic light or killing other people for their possessions…” Shallow analysis – those are the two words I’ve often used to respond to them.
Yes, home is in rural kaLanga and I grew up in Big Bend - a small sugar cane town in the south-east of Swaziland, where as a typical resident the same people you went to primary school with are the same people you attend high school with, same hobbies, shop at same old Matata SPAR….basically same routine, mentality etc, but I refuse to be judged in my adult life – based on those experiences of my childhood. And that is the problem with my country. Correction - one of the many problems with my country.
To been seen and not to be heard
I mean my parents, paid for most of my schooling fees through life, fed me, clothed me, sheltered me and gave me life survival skills and guidance. Through it all, I guess like most parents, they always reminded me that I didn’t have much of a say in some of the decisions they took about my life like when my father would scream from his room, “Tell whoever is on the other end of that phone never to call you again in MY house, on MY phone because you are MY child and you will abide by MY rules….put the phone down NOW!”.
But that was when I was a child. That changed even without us speaking and reaching an agreement about it as soon as I finished high school and lived independently through my undergraduate studies at the University of Swaziland going forward. It was quite funny actually because as a young adult my father especially, looked forward to having me home just so that we could debate certain world issues and I’m certain now that he deliberately chose to always oppose me in a debate just to test how progressive my thinking was.
By the way the term “progressive” in Swaziland is almost synonymous to “renegade” and is often used negatively to label critics of the government. Shrug.
You may be wondering why my relationship with my father is relevant here. Well my point is my facebook friends with ‘shallow analyses’ speak of my disloyalty to my country simply because I criticize how it carries out its duties as a guardian/parent (or is it more like does NOT carry out its duties?).
It’s as if just because my country paid for my tertiary fees and gave me my first job I’m not supposed to grow up and also grow. Or that even when I do grow up, it should just be my age that does and not my mentality and world view i.e. no progress, progression or progressive tendencies that demonstrate independent thinking. It’s very common in Swaziland to hear someone say, “So and so can’t tell us sh*t, I mean I know her, she grew up right before my eyes so what can she tell me now? What does she know?”
Embracing growth 
Well it doesn’t work that way as demonstrated by my parents. Just because my father and I didn’t share the same view in our debate about parenting, including his parenting skills, doesn’t mean that I take lightly or deem null and void his efforts at raising me, or that he should disown me and say I’m spitting in his face and threatening his role as the head of the household.
It doesn’t mean that just because he’s older and has been managing his life, mine and that of my siblings for decades he knows it all and I shouldn’t share my perspective of how we can better run our household.
In fact I remember a few times when we had family meetings where my eldest Aunt eloquently articulated the “disclaimer” before each family summit commenced; “Each one of you, no matter how young you are, is allowed to speak and freely. What you say here will be dealt with here and not used against you for whatever reason outside of this meeting. Speak openly and honestly because we are trying to build this family into a stronger one”, she said. That’s transparency right there -the same way my father had been clear with me about using HIS phone in HIS house.
So my frankness comes a long way. I tweet, facebook, blog and write like this because now I have grown up; enough to put into practice, analyze and fully comprehend and apply into my life all the theory I learnt from primary school, through tertiary, coupled with non-academic teachings from my grandparents and drunken aunts and uncles to fully understanding what in my childhood mind was THAT FAT MAN called Hulumende (government).
I have grown up to understand that propaganda (a term I learnt in high school History lessons about Adolf Hitler) is the name of what my Principal (and her counterparts across the country) did when she handed out those bronze medals bearing King Mswati 111’s face to the whole school when I was in Grade two in 1986.
I let my keyboard spit these words because I’ve lived long enough to find myself living in a foreign country not by my design but because during a few years of my life the Swaziland justice system failed me, my mother and her three other biological children when we found ourselves homeless after my step-siblings illegally and violently evicted us eight months after my father died suddenly in 2004.
This is the year my confidence in the competence of our police and justice systems waned. The Royal Swaziland Police quickly dismissed my father’s death as suicide even though we had narrated to them the family feuding that had preceded his last moments alive and even disputed that he could not have shot himself on the forehead with a 70 centimeter long hunting shotgun.
Many times I’ve thought the police did this because they didn’t want to waste time investigating when they had more important things to do during the month of December in which my father died, like patrol and provide security at the national Incwala dance.
And sometimes I think it’s because maybe they don’t even posses the forensic investigating skills, that perhaps they were never trained in forensics because maybe after all, their primary duty as Emaphoyisa Embhube (King’s police) as they are called, is to provide security to what is called Hulumende weMbhube (King’s government). Just maybe this was the case.
Anyway, for five long, lonely and sad years my mother stayed at her maternal home, away from the comfort of the home she had helped build while I always stayed with friends during my visits to Swaziland when varsity was in recess. I prayed to find a job in Jo’burg where I had recently arrived for postgraduate studies at Wits University and thankfully I found a job at Kayafm radio as a news anchor in 2005. This way I always dodged going ‘home’ on Easter and other holidays by working throughout those times.
Not even the local Chief nor the Chief Justice in the High Court of Swaziland could save us from our homelessness even after several attempts. The local chief would tell us the matter was beyond his jurisdiction and we heard the same words when we went to the court. That’s how blissful the Swaziland dual system of governance is –where modern and traditional systems coexist.
It was during that period, at 25 years old that I had to seriously consider living permanently in South Africa whenever I completed my studies. So no, I didn’t “run away” from Swaziland but I did have to grow up fast and start questioning life, people and the injustices of this world much earlier than most of my peers.
Kuhamba kubona
I’m critical of things and people in and outside Swaziland because I know better. In siSwati we say “kuhamba kubona” (travelling opens one’s eyes) and yes I know better because I have seen better by travelling and living in better places like South Africa just like most of my friends and relatives who’ve lived in other countries outside Swaziland, mostly overseas in developed countries with transparent governments, justice and health systems etc.
Obviously these developed countries have their own governance challenges but at least an attempt is made to be transparent and accountable to citizens. Citizens - another term that many Swazis probably don’t relate to because in my country a majority of us are Subjects – and oh yes, we do get subjected to a lot of wrong mostly in the name of culture and in the name of Jesus.
Like how we’ve repeatedly been told and encouraged to live by the story of the ancient Swazi King who had a vision straight from God that for us to prosper peacefully as the Swazi nation (read: subjects) of the things that missionaries/foreigners come with, we should choose the Bible and not the coin (money).
Guess who has all the money now and who’s left to fill to capacity the churches that have mushroomed in every corner of the tiny kingdom? Yes we’ve been subjected into believing sayings like “Inkhosi ngumlomo longacali manga” (The King never lies), “Inkhosi ayikhafuliswa” (You can’t make the King reverse his word), “Kubindwa kubonwa” (Even if you see bad things happening, you have to shut up).
So yeah, kuhamba kubona. Also reminds me of how a certain polygamous man’s over a dozen wives now all have marble tiles in their residences after they fell in love with them while travelling to Morocco from where they now import the tiles.
Also reminds me of the stories I’ve heard about high profile people and politicians including those from Swaziland, who have had cosmetic changes to their bodies like breast augmentation, liposuction and botox. Everyone wants better especially if they know they deserve better.
So excuse me if my travels and insights into other worlds lead me to demanding a little change in the way we treat our elderly – can we give them a little more than the paltry R600 they receive as a pension grant once every three months? Is that too much to ask?
My overseas-based friends also get a lot of flak for voicing their concerns about our country through their facebook statuses and in social circles, sometimes quickly labeled as PUDEMO (the oldest but banned political party in Swaziland which has been demonized by the government over the years).
And at this point I must thank Mark Zuckerberg and his friends for inventing this machinery that has given so many of us a voice and platform to speak…to literally speak out decades long worth of silence and indoctrination. I mean these days not a day goes by without me reading something like this from some of my facebook friends, even those living in Swaziland;
- · “To those who think we are advocating for multi-parties because we envy what South Africa has, its time you know that you are wrong. I advocate for multi-parties because I yearn for social justice, accountability, and the ideals that are fairness, equitability and justice. The current political dispensation does not allow for all this. Thus I say, away with the political experiment that Tinkhundla is.” [28 year old male]
- · “[28 year old male]
- · The silence of our parents, handed down to us, reinforced by fear of the iron hand that our government has become, is haunting us today. Our silence has allowed the growth of a docile mindset that allows leadership to do as they please and get away with murderous acts. Today is the day UNISWA was supposed to open, sadly it is not.” [28 year old male]
In addition to these individual utterances, facebook has allowed us as Swazis to create groups where we engage each other about governance and the future of our country. The great thing is that this exchange allows the participation of even those who believe the status quo should remain the same.
There are several of these groups and not even an announcement made by the Royal Swaziland Police that facebook comments are being monitored has stopped people from speaking their minds and hearts. Not even publications of people’s posts and comments in the independent Times of Swaziland newspaper has intimidated both young and old into desisting from publicizing their thoughts about how the country is run.
A friend asked me recently, “So what would you do if you were appointed into parliament today? How would you make sure to introduce “better” in the way we live and govern the country?” Yes in Swaziland it can happen that randomly - I can be handpicked from my radio job or whatever it is I do for a living to be a member of parliament, cabinet minister or senator - no political experience required. Anyway I told my friend I would tell whoever is appointing me “No, thanks”.
I would never agree to be part of the current government as it is, not with the system of governance in place (Tinkhundla) that is more about self-enrichment than national development. I would never agree to be part of a government that is not transparent, is not accountable to the majority of the people who live in the land and is all about appeasing “their majesties”. Democracy has its challenges, but world over it has proved to be the most ideal governance system so far and that’s what I want for myself and my country.
When good men say and do nothing...
I’ve always said, the better that my friends, especially those in the Diaspora and I now know means nothing if we do not share it. The better that we know means nothing if I do not DO anything about it.
So allow me to borrow one of Karl Marx’s most famous rallying cries “[Workers] Swazis of the world unite; you have nothing to lose but your chains”. As Swazis in every corner of the world, no matter where you are in the Diaspora, let us gather and not mind how small the grouping is, let’s not only talk but DO something about the state of affairs in Swaziland. We have the mental ammunition to win back our basic human rights without belligerent means.
Swazi Diaspora Platform (SDP)
Here in Johannesburg, we have created the Swazi Diaspora Platform (SDP). It is not a political party, but a platform that brings together Swazis who hold strong views about the socio-political and economic situation back home and are keen to seek ways to action on these views. It’s still in its infancy, but the plan is to make it a space for vigorous engagement and debate, tackling Swaziland’s socio-political and economic issues amongst Swazis across the board; from the individual involved in political party politics to the ordinary man on the street.
In fact the Swazis in the SDP have demonstrated through their own personal success that they are capable of running their own affairs even at country level. Every effort we have made so far as the SDP to educate each other through seminars and empowerment projects has been from our individual commitment and dedication.
For our first project in November 2011, as the SDP we contributed individually, personal funds totaling R5, 000 to ensure that some girls in the northern part of Swaziland stay empowered through education by staying in school. We had learnt that they often skip school for a few days during their monthlies because they can’t afford sanitary pads. The plan is to provide them with more sustainable help like presenting them with re-usable sanitary towels or cups.
We are working on other projects that will be sustainable to the livelihood of our brothers and sisters in Swaziland as opposed to giving handouts like the government has systematically done over the years—leaving a disabled nation, dependent on charity.
We do not want our efforts to end at “projects”. We realize there’s a lot of education that needs to happen, a lot of unlearning of what we’ve all along thought to be the right way to live and do things and this is what we must focus on too. We realize too that it will not be easy to achieve our objectives but we need to fearlessly go on to ensure that we all have our rights as humans respected wherever we are in the world, and especially at home. As soon as we emancipate the majority of us from mental slavery, then we would have created for ourselves an environment that allows for only us to craft our destiny as a nation.
The personal self-less dedication of Swazis in the SDP is a true demonstration that those who criticize politically vocal Swazis and label us as people who do not love our country are wrong. In fact we ache and speak from hurt because we love our country so much. It is the only home we’ve ever known and had. It is the only country we can better for the benefit of generations to come.
So my dear Swazis, please always remember these words by South African poet Ntsiki Mazwai “terrible bad ugly things happen when good men say nothing, do nothing…”
Inspirational!
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