In the new series of Soul City, the popular TV show that aims to raise awareness of health issues has focused on violence against women, writes Ngaire Blankenberg
There is this woman I know – you might know her too. She’s full of life, happy, good natured and glamorous in a household cleaner, stay-at-home-mom kind of way.
She’s crazy about her family. Her husband’s two children, their baby. She works part time in a city hospital, really enjoys her job. Sometimes she goes to work with a black eye and a split lip. For those days she’s quiet, seems close to tears. I’ve noticed then that there’s fear in her eyes. She blames her cupboard. As Sister Bettina says: “It’s probably one of those cupboards with two hands and two feet”.
I know this woman well; you might know her too. I meet her every Wednesday at 8.30pm on SABC1 (provided there’s no cricket) – on an enormously popular programme called Soul City.
There are many people who believe that television changes lives. Most of those people, I’d say, believe that it’s for the worse. There is no shortage of evils that the medium has been accused of: making our society more violent, more commercial, more misogynist. Television doesn’t have the best reputation when it comes to disseminating socially relevant, empowering messages – particularly for women.
Yet every now and then, there is a gem that flashes across our screens. Soul City is one: a drama in a prime-time slot, full of passion, sadness and glee, and resolutely healthy. It poses questions, presents problems, reflects ordinary people, doesn’t shy from real issues, real languages (it’s multilingual), or real culture (it’s very African). In short, it does all the things you always wished of local content.
A subject of focus in the present, fourth series is violence against women. It’s an issue seen alongside others, including date rape and sexual myths, teenage sexuality, sexual harassment and HIV/Aids. Like the previous series, the aim is to challenge attitudes.
“We want to put the issue of violence against women out there … so people know that it’s not only happening to them,” says Thuli Shongwe, Soul City senior researcher.
Once people can witness their own situations on television, and watch the characters they relate to solve their problems, they are empowered to take action in their own lives. When that time comes, Soul City is there for them.
In a very non-television-like move, the project has linked up with the National Network on Violence Against Women, a national NGO comprising members of other NGOs and government representatives to work at eradicating violence against women. Presently they provide a toll-free hotline and free counselling services for women survivors of violence.
“After Soul City raises awareness, we do the counseling” says Mpho Thekiso from the National Network on Violence Against Women. She reports a definite increase in women calling in for help after each Soul City episode.
It’s an interesting use of the medium. Television dramas tend to be so self- reflexive, and so intent on the suspension of disbelief, that they rarely acknowledge life outside of the screen. Soul City depends on it.
“The original concept was to use Soul City as a vehicle for health education; to reach wider audiences,” says Dr Shereen Usdin, project manager of Soul City. “We wanted to prevent these things from happening.”
Their success at doing just that is impressive. In an evaluation report prepared by the Community Agency for Social Enquiry after series two in 1997, Soul City was found to be effective in stimulating discussion, increasing knowledge, as well as changing behaviour (in this case, encouraging sexually active young people to use condoms).
Much of this is due to the way Soul City is presented on television. As Dr Ruth Teer- Tomaselli, senior lecturer at the Centre for Culture and Media Studies at the University of Natal, observes, “People get caught up in the story. It’s the power of narrative. A lot of straightforward information gets imparted, because people’s emotional defences are down.
“When we watch something as horrific as a man beating his partner on the evening news, our first reaction is to say `Thank God that’s not me’. With a drama, we’re one step removed. We’re more open to the messages. For example, more people know about the Holocaust through Spielberg, than any other account,” Teer-Tomaselli says.
The makers of Soul City ensure that their characters are believable, and that their story-lines reflecti real-life situations. Soul City researcher Agnus Tshabalala says: “In our research we found that abusive men believe they have the right to discipline their partners physically. Many people told us their religion or culture permits them to discipline their wives.”
Consequently, in one of the storylines, the character, a young woman called Matlakala, and her abusive husband Thabang, are together in a family meeting. Her husband’s father insists that because lobola was paid, Matlakala is her husband’s property. If need be, he can punish her for being “cheeky”. Yet the meeting is mediated by an elder, who speaks out against this claim, insisting that nowhere in their culture is a man allowed to hit his wife.
The programme’s strong ratings are evidence enough that the show is being watched. But it hasn’t always been a bed of roses. Television is a business like any other – space on the airwaves is still determined by success, and back in 1994 when Soul City was trying to get on air, people had their reservations.
“We were coming from the health sector. They weren’t sure we could make quality television,” says Usdin.
Although proved wrong, the scepticism hasn’t entirely dissipated. Usdin admits that sometimes they have to work hard to convince some of the “artistic people” that their concerns are valid. As an example of their concerns Usdin points to their efforts not to glamourise violence, even though it makes more immediately watchable drama.
Each series focuses on different issues that are “consistent with the health priorities of the country”, says Shongwe. Those issues then become the point of discussion in Soul City’s massive multi- media campaign that includes radio dramas in nine different languages on nine different stations, and newspaper supplements across the country.
Teer-Tomaselli puts the series’s success down to the “vicarious thrill of seeing characters in more than one medium”.
“It’s an expensive series to produce,” says Usdin. “About 14% of our money goes into research and about 10% of our budget goes into evaluation.”
The undoubted success of Soul City can be attributed to the fact that it has stayed true to its educational objectives, while still making entertaining television. While it is cause for hope, it is only one programme. According to Teer-Tomaselli, “No single programme can counteract a misogyny in a lot of other programming. At best it can spearhead a social movement.”
One need look no further than other programmes on SABC1 (did anyone say Yizo Yizo?) to see the influence that Soul City can have on education. It’s an influence that, hopefully, will have some impact on the bleak statistics we’ve come to know, in the fight against the domestic violence that plagues women.