Freedom

Blogging is a lot harder than it looks. As always I have no idea where to begin. However, I cant keep letting that be a road block that stops me from writing. So I will just write what I wrote down in my journal yesterday. So here goes. Don't judge me, just love me. 

Taken outside of the Apartheid Museum

2.08.2014

I received this journal in Dec 2013. It was a going away gift from my two best friends. This journal is meant to document my journey to South Africa. My journey to discover the roots of my father, and the struggle of my people. Today is my first entry. I've been living in South Africa for two weeks. Until now I havent been able to fully comprehend the magnitude of this trip. It wasn't until sitting in the middle of the apartheid museum looking at the "life under apartheid" exhibit that I felt the weight of sadness, confusion and anguish that the discriminated people of the world must have all endured during their time of persecution. Still to this day remnants of racial superiority rears its ugly head in this country and in many others.

A few days ago I sat in an office of an Afrikaner woman. She was describing a woman she knew. "She is a coloured woman, but she is still a good person." 

My immediate response was to ignore the bubbling feeling of hatred, and to numb and silence the angry thoughts that filled my head. It wasn’t until later that I could deal with my anger, shock and confusion. But why did I respond in such a way? Why not use that teachable moment to create a dialogue with this woman about how that comment is offensive to me, to the woman she was referring to, and to all people of color.

Why silence my annoyance at blatant injustices that usually start with small comments like that one. Why indeed?

In bondage my mind still lies. Remnants of a systematically oppressive society are still present in my psyche. Insecurities and feeling of inferiority and subordination still plague me and people like me, whether we want to consciously address it or not.

Awareness is only the first key to unlocking the chains of oppression. I pray that in my remaining 9 months here that I continue to find the keys to the chains that have kept me spiritually, mentally, and emotionally imprisoned so that I can finally break free and physically manifest the meaning of freedom.

Where does systematic oppression even stem from? This question has plagued me since I first learned of slavery in the United States, the Holocaust in Europe, ethnic genocides in the Middle East and Northern Africa, and when I learned of Apartheid in South Africa.

I believe that it simply stems from fear. Fear of loss of control. Fear of loss of power. Fear enables humans to be stewards of inhumanity.

Colonized education was created to train and raise second class workers without the means of upward mobility. Without the ability to be free in their own country. As one of the original founders of the ANC said ‘to be a pariah in their native land.’ 

What does it mean to be free? To move through life without physical chains? What about the mental ones pressed down upon a childe at birth because of their skin color, which result in emotional chains that without a spiritual key many remained locked forever. So again what is freedom if generation after generation fear is what drives communication and builds imprisonment for anyone who is considered “the other.”

When does the desire for peace, love and spiritual freedom outweigh the desire for power, control and spiritual domination?

A quote that I read while walking under hundreds of nooses that hung from the ceiling to symbolize all of the people whose deaths were recorded as “suicide by hanging”

“My blood will nourish the tree which will bear fruits of freedom. Tell my people that I love them and that they must continue the struggle. Do not worry about me but about those who are suffering.” –Soloman Mahlahgu 1979

A picture that really spoke to me was a picture of one man who was on trail to be hanged and at his trial he yelled with a raised fist “Amandla” (power) but his audience of jurors did not reply with the common response “Ngawethu” (is ours). Instead he was greeted with silence and a sentence to die. He was 20 years old.

Sitting in the room marked “solitary confinement” I thought about the transformation one must go through while physically imprisoned… it is to face one’s own personal demons and to internally fight spiritual battles. It leaves one completely transcendent or completely insane. In my opinion to be left alone with one’s imprisoned thoughts might be a punishment worth than death.

I apologize if this post is too heavy. I don’t want people to think my time here has been filled with thoughts of just animosity, it has actually been filled mostly with great new challenges like learning to drive stick shift; beautiful beginnings of friendship, like with my roommates, the faculty, staff and students at Sedibeng, and with our grounds keeper who lives on our property; but it has also increased my state of awareness of the divides between race, gender and religious groups here and all over the world. It makes me extremely appreciative of the physical freedom I have to travel the world, the opportunity to teach, the ability to pray and worship to God openly and to have this opportunity to get to know my family and heritage here in South Africa.

Once my roommates and I left the apartheid museum we drove to Braamfontein in Johannesburg city and met up with two of my cousins, Mulanga and Gundo. They are the sons of my father’s oldest sister, Staina. (My cousin Upile, son of my father’s later brother Richard, joined us at the market.) This was the first time I’d seen them since they met me at the airport two weeks ago. They embraced me and my roommates with open arms and gave us a brief rundown of their city life. They took us to Neighborgoods Market a really charming two story market which we all fell in love with immediately. Such a drastic difference to the Afrikaner town we live in now. There were people of all races talking, laughing, drinking and just enjoying life. Gay couples openly held hands without fear of judgment or persecution.

After heading up to the rooftop with my spicy mojito and gazing at the Mandela bridge and the city skyline I felt like I was back in NYC! I felt at home. We had a blast. Hours went by as we tried different foods and different drinks (the fresh coconut with rum was my favorite), we discussed project collaboration and the changes that have occurred in SA over the last few years and then we eventually walked around to different venues in the area to enjoy pulsating house music and meet some of my cousins’ friends. They seemed to know everyone. We ended the day with a tasty yet affordable dinner and talks of hanging out again soon. I’m planning to take a trip with them up to Messina to meet the rest of our family during one of my breaks. Inshallah. I am super excited!

My cousin Mulanaga gave me an African name today. Ubuntu, which in his words means humanity: I am because you are and you are because I am.

WHOA!

I was familiar with the term and immediately felt humbled by the depth and history behind the African word.

When I got home I did some research and found two definitions that really resonated with me.

“Ubuntu’ The term appears in the Epilogue of the Interim Constitution of South Africa (1993), "there is a need for understanding but not for vengeance, a need for reparation but not for retaliation, a need for ubuntu but not for victimization"

Michael Onyebuchi Eze, the core of ubuntu can best be summarized as follows: “A person is a person through other people strikes an affirmation of one’s humanity through recognition of an ‘other’ in his or her uniqueness and difference. It is a demand for a creative intersubjective formation in which the ‘other’ becomes a mirror (but only a mirror) for my subjectivity. This idealism suggests to us that humanity is not embedded in my person solely as an individual; my humanity is co-substantively bestowed upon the other and me. Humanity is a quality we owe to each other. We create each other and need to sustain this otherness creation. And if we belong to each other, we participate in our creations: we are because you are, and since you are, definitely I am. The ‘I am’ is not a rigid subject, but a dynamic self-constitution dependent on this otherness creation of relation and distance”

Today is just an example of how each day here in South Africa holds so many emotions, so many opportunities to learn and grow, and so many priceless memories.

Ke a le boha (thank you in Sotho) for reading my very long post and following my journey.

Until next time,

Love

Esther/Ubuntu