the future
It’s time to consolidate the wealth of knowledge Africans are carrying around in their heads, argues Nhlanganiso Dladla
A nation with no knowledge of its history (and culture) is like a tree without roots. – Marcus Mosiah Garvey
My 13-year-old daughter (whom I would refer to as “niece” if I were of the English tribe) goes to a public school with some serious, innovative teachers. She sent me a note a couple of weeks ago, asking me to help her with a research project they had been assigned in her standard seven social studies class.
They had been asked to find out from their parents and grandparents who they really were as members of families, clans and nations, and submit a report outlining their family tree, clan values, traditions, totems and histories.
As I began developing a response to her, a number of critical realisations came to the fore.
First, I was struck by the amount of information that quite a number of us walk around with locked in our heads, consciously or otherwise. For example, from stories/teachings I got from our rested umkhulu (grandfather), I could trace for my daughter and share stories on seven generations of our family. I am sure there are quite a number of people out there who can go much further.
I also noted with a sense of alarm, however, that my younger brothers and sisters, who did not have the luck to be taught by umkhulu, have probably lost out on a lot of what us older siblings carry in our heads.
As what we older siblings know is not written, and since we do not have family and clan forums where this knowledge is systematically shared, our younger sisters and brothers are likely to have shorter historical memories.
In retrieving what I could recall from umkhulu’s stories and teachings, as well as titsakatelo (clan praises) of our clan, I also noted how much national histories are carried within families, and how, therefore, a creative and systematic investigation of such accounts can greatly benefit the rewriting of a history to be taught in our schools.
For instance, from umkhulu’s stories, as well as stories that can be told by others, it becomes possible to:
l Demonstrate to our children that the idea of “historically irreconcilable tribes in Africa” is a fictitious construct of a mischievous colonial agenda. My clan is to be found across the baNguni nations of kaNgwane, kwaZulu and kwaXhosa, I have direct relatives both in Swaziland and kwaZulu, and will soon get to know close clan relatives apha kwaXhosa now that I live in this part of the continent.
l Reconstruct a fuller and close-to-the-heart national story about how colonialism and its deformed child – apartheid – destroyed families and functional social systems of a not-too-distant African past. For instance, I learnt how my grandfather migrated to Gauteng, after refusing to be caned by a coloniser who had taken over their family land, turning a formerly rich, farming African family into serfs.
In this story, the 1913 Land Act becomes more than just an abstract note that our children have to memorise to pass an exam. More recently, I had added more detail to this 1913 story through the personal account of a man who spent more than 70 years (out of the 93 he lived) fiercely fighting this country’s unjust system, a struggle that led him to spend more than 40 years in and out of prisons as a political prisoner (including a long spell on Robben Island).
l Piece together a clear picture of the origins of certain clans and nations. For example, from our titsakatelo, I learn that our entry into Swaziland was through the luBombo mountain range, which runs commonly across titsakatelo of many families temaSwati, including those who established the nation with Ngwane.
I also learn from my great-great-grandfather’s personal praises that he was a member of the Inyatsi regiment during king Mswati’s reign, a great-great grandfather to the present inkhosi yemaSwati. From the common greeting yemaSwati – “wena weluhlanga”, “wena weKunene” – we are also constantly reminded of the Nguni story surrounding the myth of creation, as well as our connection to the northern part of the continent’s southern region.
It might be useful to add an interesting footnote here relating to the relevance of family praises and stories to national histories. I have a very intelligent family friend (an African woman) who is having a hard time finishing her doctorate, simply because her supervisor – Western educated and of European origin – disagrees that iziduko (clans) do carry clan and national histories.
An even sadder dimension to this story, though, is that this man, who is denying the validity of iziduko as an authentic reference point in African historiography, claims to be a card-carrying member of our present-day, African-dominated and progressive ruling party.
There is one other significant realisation arising out of my daughter’s assignment that I would like to mention: our clan totems as Africans point to an alternative awareness of cosmological relationships that could be a powerful basis for a new approach to an understanding of the corporate environmental space we human beings are a part of.
The fact, for instance, that each African family identifies with some animal, place or plant suggests a basis for the reconstruction of a school curriculum that could inculcate a non-abusive and more respectful approach towards the broader living world.
Within a kind of consciousness where the male lion is my immediate brother, the baboon a relative of my mother and a porcupine a relative of my friend from the Phathudi clan, shooting “game” ceases to be a game (as it was when colonisers from the German and Boer tribes used to hunt the San and shoot them for fun, equating them to “vermin”).
Also, we cease to “have [irresponsible] dominion over all creatures lesser than human beings”, a view of the world that found its way into “holy” books and gave birth to – among other unholy things – racism and colonialism.
Much has been written about the critical need to develop our science, maths and technology curriculum in order to scientifically and economically hold our own within the world community of nations. This is a very commendable call indeed, and deserves our endorsement and support.
There is a danger, however, in chasing scientific glory and money without paying attention to a development of the kind of knowledge that can make this goal sustainable and even possible.
Furthermore, “holding our own” is meaningless without a critical revisiting of the educational pillars upon which the present global community is founded, ideas of knowing and relating that – as we know – do not always make for a balanced co-existence between human and human, or human and other living species.
It can be argued, for instance, that even the teaching of mathematics – which has fundamental to its centre the concepts of relation and logical organisation – could greatly benefit from an Africanly reconceptualised way of understanding relation, holism, sequence and consequence. The same can be said of science and technology (including the development of an alternative aesthetic to the understanding of pattern and design in technology).
At my daughter’s request, I was prompted to put on paper a little of what I have learnt by word of mouth, observation and reflection. I am sure that what I know about my family, clan, African nation and human community, our ways of knowing and relating merely scratches the surface.
I also know, however, that I would have felt more at sea, unrooted and dysfunctional had I known less. Shouldn’t the school curriculum, therefore, pick up on this and ensure that future generations of this country’s majority grow up better-balanced selves? And that, as a country, we do indeed have something fresh to offer the continent and the world?
Until we seriously tackle our education reconstruction challenge from the foregoing cultural point of view, I’m afraid the much-vaunted African renaissance will amount to nothing more than an externally driven consumerist movement that will leave us Africans continuing to be “valued” only for our ability to absorb and popularise foreign ideas, trinkets and junk.
It is also important to add here that the above task requires a very different mindset from the “let’s-go-to-Grahamstown-and-beat-an-African-drum”
attitude which is so common when some “progressives” decide to spice things up “the African way”.
What we are talking about here is critically and respectfully tapping into hitherto neglected reservoirs of knowledge and practices that can make us walk tall, feed all our stomachs, lay to rest the image of the perpetually dancing, skin-clad African who is always smiling through ridicule and pain, and help us contribute meaningfully to rescuing the world from a barbarism that masquerades as civilisation.
The historical stage that South Africa is currently going through presents us with tremendous opportunities to make very fresh contributions to the world of ideas. Such contributions will – I argue – only be worth taking note of if they suggest significantly different ways of knowing and doing. Merely repackaging trendy ideas from other dominant polities – while in some instances useful – will not be enough.
Nhlanganiso Dladla is director of the Distance Education Project at Fort Hare. The views expressed here are not those of the project (even as they are by no means “personal’)