Gold is in the air. If it’s not dangling around the necks of some of our swimmers at the Olympics, or shining a little more brightly on the jerseys of our rugby players, then it is swinging from the ears of models strutting the stuff of local designers at the latest fashion week.
There is not much gold associated with the arts — except, perhaps, for the gold cards awarded to a few administrators appointed to be responsible for the good of the arts. Allegedly. But if gold medals were being dished out, then Gcina Mhlope, storyteller extraordinaire, would need an armoured vehicle to transport hers.
She has wowed audiences in numerous countries, has had her books translated into a range of languages such as Japanese, Spanish and German, and has achieved international acclaim as a performer. Sadly though, in her own country, she makes her living not as an artist, but as a motivational speaker on the private-sector circuit.
There has been some media commentary on the broad American accents of the South African swimmers who stunned the world, swimmers who have had to leave their country in order to ply their trade and be recognised for what they do. It is only once they achieved on the world stage and as we vicariously shared in their triumph that we came to know their names. We also came to learn subsequently of their struggle to find local support, with one swimmer being quoted as saying that he would even swim for Uganda for $2 000 a month. Perhaps there is room for Roland Schoeman, Ryk Neethling, Darian Townsend and Lyndon Ferns — not exactly candidates to be beneficiaries of the latest black economic empowerment charter — on the local motivational-speaker circuit too?
”If a nobody like me can be somebody,” begins Mhlope in motivational-speaker mode ”then only hard work stands between you and your goal.” Well, make that hard work and a passport.
Now there are media reports that the swimmers will face disciplinary action for not wearing the swimsuits provided by the sponsor (even though the swimmers said that these slowed them down) and for not swimming in the events that they had been entered for — probably by administrators who cannot even swim.
I wonder how many of the National Arts Council exco members who lavishly wined and dined and dished out ”national-treasure” awards to various deserving artists in Grahamstown, had actually even read or seen their works? How old must Mhlope be before we recognise her as a national treasure? Or does she first have to contract HIV/Aids like Gibson Kente before we rush off to give her a monetary award before she is no longer with us?
Almost single-handedly, Mhlope motivated and won the bid for Africa — for the first time — to host the annual gathering of the International Book Board for Young Audiences. This event will take place at the Baxter Theatre Centre in early September with illustrators, writers and publishers in attendance, along with the empress of Japan, an avid advocate for children to have access to books, notwithstanding her coming from the land that gave kids Digimon and Pokémon.
It is highly unlikely that Mhlope will be paid anything, let alone a massive bonus for having brought an international event to the country.
If we really are serious about reclaiming lost traditions, conserving oral literature, influencing the world with our stories, forms and values, then we have a golden opportunity. Support Mhlope, a national, living, young treasure, so that she can inspire thousands of others.
Right here.