I found this article on the recent increases in the cost of Zambian visas for British nationals as I was looking for visa information for my non-Zambian wedding guests.
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/762281/Zambia-visa-charges-hit-school-charity-mission.html
I felt a little irritated as it fails to give people the full picture and is typical of the double standards that are often expected by British people when they travel abroad. I hear constant complaints that foreigners do not speak English when they are here, but travel to Spain and you have enclaves of Brits speaking English and refusing to learn Spanish.
And so to the visa issue.
Zambia is a former British colony and a member of the Commonwealth of Nations, often referred to as the Commonwealth, a non-military organisation consisting of former colonial territories and British protectorates.
The Commonwealth originated from the ashes of the Empire but did not afford the British the same power over the emerging independent countries as the original arrangement did. It does however, have, the Queen, Elizabeth the II, at its helm (her title is Head of the Commonwealth) and affords the poorer post-colonial developing countries a forum at which they can voice their opinions and are supposedly treated as equals. They are able to band together and act against the behaviour of dissenting countries such as South Africa, Nigeria, Pakistan and Zimbabwe, who have all previously had their membership suspended and allows cooperation between the nations in areas of sport, education and trade.
Why am I prattling on about this historic and relatively ineffectual club of nations? Well the visa argument has its origins in the agreements between club members. In its early days, the Commonwealth was much more than it is now. Members accorded each other privileged access to their markets, and their citizens had free or preferred right of movement across their borders. So previously Zambian citizens did not require visas to enter the United Kingdom and vice versa.
However, when the Common Market evolved into the EEC and then the EU, the British had to adopt a number of border controls that meant a lot of the travel perks of being a citizen of a commonwealth country began to be eroded. Suddenly Zambians needed visas to enter the UK and they were required to attend the British High Commission in Lusaka in order to get them.
A visit to the High Commission is a generally an unpleasant experience for Zambians. One is subjected to Spanish inquisition type questioning in a non-private environment even before you submit your papers. And submitting your papers, paying the fee and attending the subsequent interview does not ensure that you will get the visa.
For years the Zambian government did not reciprocate. British tourists were allowed to travel to Zambia on the visa waiver program, as long as they could prove that they were bonifde tourists. If they could not they would pay £33 whilst submitting a valid ticket, letter of invitation and proof that they could look after themselves in Zambia, all typical visa application paraphernalia. They would then pick up the visa three days later. Despite the increase in fee the process has barely changed, there is no interview; no twenty questions about who your relatives are and your potential employment prospects on your return. In fact, if you cannot be bothered to go to the embassy, you are able to get your visa from any port of entry when you get to Zambia.
The visitor’s visa fee at the British High commission is currently a non-refundable £65, or half a million in Kwacha, the local currency in which you have to pay the fee (the rate somehow always manages to be unfavourable). The Foreign Office Minister has announced that this fee remains the same this year, though it, along with the fees for other visas, was increased last year with little warning. There were no large signs in every Zambian school, government office or private company reception. There were no headlines in newspapers either; you found out if you went to the high commission to apply for the visa as they had a small sign inside the visa section informing you of the new fees.
You could, off course, find out by visiting the high commission website before you travelled but given that some of the people attempting to get visas could barely scrap together the fee and had travelled from rural areas where Internet cafés are few and far between. These people may be trying to visit relatives in the UK or going to try and get an education (for which the visa fee is £99), not so wealthy people trying to better themselves.
In contrast British people travelling to Zambia tend to be of the wealthier variety, able to afford the £2,000 plus per person package holidays they take to look at animals and stare at the Victoria Falls. They are mainly relatively educated, middle class travellers (they are generally the ones who have heard of Zambia) who have access to the Internet and a quick check on the Zambian High Commission website, which is how my Mister found out about it, would have informed them of the change. He and my British guests have paid the fee, with no complaints (thank goodness, as I am up to my neck in irritating wedding related encounters ), I suppose they have not had any real choice.
The increase though admittedly large will not result in their in ability to travel and it seems a little distasteful that people who would spend so much to go on holiday would haggle with the government of a developing country over £75. Citizens of the United States have for years been charged a reciprocal $100 when they wish to enter Zambia, whether for tourism or otherwise. Despite this I have not, as yet, seen such an article in a national paper complaining about it.
And let’s be fair not all tourists who go to Zambia are British, the Irish, Australians, New Zealanders and nationals of other EU none of whom are affected by this change also visit us. Traditionally the majority of the British go on holiday in Kenya, South Africa and Zimbabwe, having only discovered Zambia after the government in the later country fell out with theirs and instituted a $65 entry fee on non African visitors. So this argument is not about the effects of the change on Zambia tourism, the British are just miffed at being charged at all.
I am not saying the UK should not charge for visas nor am I agreeing with the actions of the Zambian government. I am simply saying there are two sides to every story and moaning without presenting all the facts is simply unacceptable, especially for a paper of the Telegraph's standing.
Zimabawe goes to the polls, with a predictable result?
On Saturday voters in Zimbabwe are going to vote in elections that everyone knows will not bring them the change they need. Their leader, like so many of our post colonial presidents, has lost his way, corrupted by the absolute power that is often awarded to our presidents.
Robert Gabriel Mugabe is Zimbabwe’s second president since the country moved to black majority rule in 1980, though he has also served as prime minister.
The country had previously unilaterally declared independence in 1965, which led to a period of minority rule. From this time until the Lancaster Talks in 1979, a group of dissident white settlers were running the country, in contravention with international law.
During the intervening period the leaders of independent African countries tried in vain to get the British government to condemn the goings on in Zimbabwe and bring an end to the illegal regime. Even as these conversations were going on, Ian Smith, with the support of the apartheid regime in South Africa was arresting the leaders of the Zimbabwean struggle for independence; the Robert Mugabes and Joshua Nkomos were being locked up for fighting for their people.
It was not until Margaret Thatcher that the British decided to reign in their former colony and help negotiate a peace between the peoples of Zimbabwe; even then a treaty had already been signed between the settlers and the freedom fighters as Ian Smith realised that the blacks would never stop fighting him and his regime began to slowly crumble.
In 1979, against this back drop, the Iron Lady gathered the warring parties in London with some African leaders as mediators and the Zimbabweans were told that they would be granted independence and black majority rule the following year, with Canaan Banana as president and Robert Mugabe as prime minister . They were however, not to pursue any policies of land reformation, as the British would deal with the reallocation of land.
In order to understand the magnitude of this sacrifice by the Zimbabweans one has to understand the way land is perceived in Zimbabwe and other Southern African countries. In most of the non-nomadic tribes, land has historically been an integral part of ones wealth, without land you cannot feed your family. Even the nomads lay claim to the lands that they return to year after year. Land was passed from father to son, divided according to his oral will upon his death. One could not marry without a one’s own piece of land and no man of substance would be without it.
Given this perception of land, it was truly accommodating of the Zimbabwean freedom fighters to accept the conditions regarding land reform that were placed upon them by the British. What the British were proposing to do was return the lands that were effectively stolen from the indigenous Zimbabweans and reallocate the land so that it was more evenly distributed whilst compensating the white settlers for their loss.
Margaret Thatcher’s government began the slow and highly volatile process, work that was continued by the government of her successor, John Major. When Mr. Blair took over however, the issue was no longer considered a high priority and was put aside. This was 1997, 18 years after the promise to reallocate land was made.
When the colonial powers first came to Zimbabwe, the white men drove the Zimbabweans off their ancestral homelands. It was not a pretty sight and many of the older generations in my own country, Zambia, have remarked that despite the brutality of the recent land reform process, the actions of the so called “war veterans” can not compare to the cruel and inhumane way that men, women and children were driven from their homes, off fertile lands into the wilderness during the land grab.
There is still a deep seated pain that many Southern Africans feel when they think of the way Ian Smith and co, with the support of South Africa, seized the country from the clasps of the freedom fighters. And there were inner smiles when the revenge was taken.
There was still a fury in Zimbabwe against the British, who stood by as this happened and to pour salt on the festering wound did not even implement a land reform process that they proposed in 1979. All this time a tiny proportion of the population owned over 50% of the commercially viable land, making money as many suffered.
This strong feeling of disapproval of the role that the British played in the Zimbabwe saga is why Morgan Tsvangirai, leader of the opposition MDC party, and widely seen as a puppet of the British government, has not won an election yet. Yes, Mr. Mugabe may have rigged the elections but Mr. Tsvangirai was simply not popular enough in to have contested in any meaningful way; his association with the British tainted him. In 2001, I watched, quite shocked given the recent goings on in their country, as Zimbabweans resident in Zambia rushed across the boarder to vote for Mr Mugabe; better the devil you know and all that.
I am not telling this story to justify the actions of Mr Mugabe, simply to put them in context that has not been given to many of the readers of the western media who are forming opinions about him. Mr Mugabe’s power and the recent violent land reform process is a creation British inaction. So how ridiculous to see Tony Blair, whose inability to prioritise the Zimbabwean land issue led to violence, self righteously condemning the carnage.
If the so called “New Labour” government had continued the land reform process and as promised intervened to give indigenous Zimbabweans back some of the fertile lands that they had previously occupied Mr Mugabe would not have had the surge of popularity he saw in the early years of this centaury. And placing embargos on Zimbabwe has led to the humanitarian crisis and does not as yet seem to have lessened Mugabe’s grip on the country. The argument I am often given when I point this out is that these things take time. So tell me how long will we have to watch Mr Mugabe stuff his face full of cake during his birthday celebrations while just a stones throw away people die of starvation? Sanctions are simply not the way to wrest power from those that are immune to their impact.
So what will happen to Zimbabwe? I cannot say, we can only wait to see if someone from his own party will be strong enough to rise up and get rid of Mugabe and bring the country back to being the prosperous breadbasket of Southern Africa that it once was.
And as Zimbabwe goes to elect its leader on Saturday, I am personally keeping one eye on South Africa where land reallocation has been slowly becoming a hot topic. I am hoping that the debate there, where the blacks have waited 15 years for implementation of any reform policy, the issue does not explode into chaos and suck all the good that has been achieved during this time into oblivion.
Robert Gabriel Mugabe is Zimbabwe’s second president since the country moved to black majority rule in 1980, though he has also served as prime minister.
The country had previously unilaterally declared independence in 1965, which led to a period of minority rule. From this time until the Lancaster Talks in 1979, a group of dissident white settlers were running the country, in contravention with international law.
During the intervening period the leaders of independent African countries tried in vain to get the British government to condemn the goings on in Zimbabwe and bring an end to the illegal regime. Even as these conversations were going on, Ian Smith, with the support of the apartheid regime in South Africa was arresting the leaders of the Zimbabwean struggle for independence; the Robert Mugabes and Joshua Nkomos were being locked up for fighting for their people.
It was not until Margaret Thatcher that the British decided to reign in their former colony and help negotiate a peace between the peoples of Zimbabwe; even then a treaty had already been signed between the settlers and the freedom fighters as Ian Smith realised that the blacks would never stop fighting him and his regime began to slowly crumble.
In 1979, against this back drop, the Iron Lady gathered the warring parties in London with some African leaders as mediators and the Zimbabweans were told that they would be granted independence and black majority rule the following year, with Canaan Banana as president and Robert Mugabe as prime minister . They were however, not to pursue any policies of land reformation, as the British would deal with the reallocation of land.
In order to understand the magnitude of this sacrifice by the Zimbabweans one has to understand the way land is perceived in Zimbabwe and other Southern African countries. In most of the non-nomadic tribes, land has historically been an integral part of ones wealth, without land you cannot feed your family. Even the nomads lay claim to the lands that they return to year after year. Land was passed from father to son, divided according to his oral will upon his death. One could not marry without a one’s own piece of land and no man of substance would be without it.
Given this perception of land, it was truly accommodating of the Zimbabwean freedom fighters to accept the conditions regarding land reform that were placed upon them by the British. What the British were proposing to do was return the lands that were effectively stolen from the indigenous Zimbabweans and reallocate the land so that it was more evenly distributed whilst compensating the white settlers for their loss.
Margaret Thatcher’s government began the slow and highly volatile process, work that was continued by the government of her successor, John Major. When Mr. Blair took over however, the issue was no longer considered a high priority and was put aside. This was 1997, 18 years after the promise to reallocate land was made.
When the colonial powers first came to Zimbabwe, the white men drove the Zimbabweans off their ancestral homelands. It was not a pretty sight and many of the older generations in my own country, Zambia, have remarked that despite the brutality of the recent land reform process, the actions of the so called “war veterans” can not compare to the cruel and inhumane way that men, women and children were driven from their homes, off fertile lands into the wilderness during the land grab.
There is still a deep seated pain that many Southern Africans feel when they think of the way Ian Smith and co, with the support of South Africa, seized the country from the clasps of the freedom fighters. And there were inner smiles when the revenge was taken.
There was still a fury in Zimbabwe against the British, who stood by as this happened and to pour salt on the festering wound did not even implement a land reform process that they proposed in 1979. All this time a tiny proportion of the population owned over 50% of the commercially viable land, making money as many suffered.
This strong feeling of disapproval of the role that the British played in the Zimbabwe saga is why Morgan Tsvangirai, leader of the opposition MDC party, and widely seen as a puppet of the British government, has not won an election yet. Yes, Mr. Mugabe may have rigged the elections but Mr. Tsvangirai was simply not popular enough in to have contested in any meaningful way; his association with the British tainted him. In 2001, I watched, quite shocked given the recent goings on in their country, as Zimbabweans resident in Zambia rushed across the boarder to vote for Mr Mugabe; better the devil you know and all that.
I am not telling this story to justify the actions of Mr Mugabe, simply to put them in context that has not been given to many of the readers of the western media who are forming opinions about him. Mr Mugabe’s power and the recent violent land reform process is a creation British inaction. So how ridiculous to see Tony Blair, whose inability to prioritise the Zimbabwean land issue led to violence, self righteously condemning the carnage.
If the so called “New Labour” government had continued the land reform process and as promised intervened to give indigenous Zimbabweans back some of the fertile lands that they had previously occupied Mr Mugabe would not have had the surge of popularity he saw in the early years of this centaury. And placing embargos on Zimbabwe has led to the humanitarian crisis and does not as yet seem to have lessened Mugabe’s grip on the country. The argument I am often given when I point this out is that these things take time. So tell me how long will we have to watch Mr Mugabe stuff his face full of cake during his birthday celebrations while just a stones throw away people die of starvation? Sanctions are simply not the way to wrest power from those that are immune to their impact.
So what will happen to Zimbabwe? I cannot say, we can only wait to see if someone from his own party will be strong enough to rise up and get rid of Mugabe and bring the country back to being the prosperous breadbasket of Southern Africa that it once was.
And as Zimbabwe goes to elect its leader on Saturday, I am personally keeping one eye on South Africa where land reallocation has been slowly becoming a hot topic. I am hoping that the debate there, where the blacks have waited 15 years for implementation of any reform policy, the issue does not explode into chaos and suck all the good that has been achieved during this time into oblivion.
Truly Reluctant...
I am often asked if I want to become British and my interviewers are often surprised when I say no. Their next question is invariably why not? Well, because I am not British, I am Zambia. I have never had any intention to change my nationality and my stance has not changed.
Taking my stance as an insult to their country, many then ask, rather resentfully, what I am doing in the UK if I do not want to become British. Their assumption is that I left my country looking for a better life. In reality I had not intended to stay this long, I was taking a sabbatical after which I was planning to return to my own life and my country of birth. And despite a change in circumstances resulting in my living in the UK indefinitely, I still feel homesick and I am still hoping to return to Lusaka one day.
Why am I so insistent that Zambia is my home? Well Zambia is where my roots are, where my family came from, where my village is. Where my ancestors settled, where they chose to make their home. Zambian blood runs through my veins, I have been connected to the land and the people of Zambia for longer than I have been alive, for longer than Zambia, the country, has been in existence.
I enjoy and miss sharing the food of my motherland, the taste of bream from the waters of the Zambezi, the meat of a chicken that has been running around, foraging on Zambian soil; I miss the easy understanding that I associate with Zambian customs, Zambian languages and accents. My body is in tune with the seasons so much so that every November I crave the smell of the first rains hitting the parched soil, the sound of the rain hitting the roof.
More importantly Zambia is the place I FEEL at home. Despite my long associations with the UK I find the customs here alien to my own, the people are different from me, the lifestyle, attitudes and language foreign to me. I am, ultimately, an outsider here.
Despite this in the next few years or so I may be given an ultimatum, become a British citizen or leave the country. I have been following news of the new measures proposed by the British government with growing fury at the arrogance and injustice of it. According to reports foreigners from non EU countries living in Britain will be expected to go through a new expanded citizenship process or leave the country. This is to stop people such as myself who are apparently wishing to live in limbo.
The new rules will also change the the time period within which one can become British by adding a probationary period during which potential immigrants will have to prove their worth and show that they are intergrating into their communities by participtaing in community work, running a sports team or playgroup (supposedly you would have to go through the usual poplice checks before you were allowed near children), serving as a school governor and other such activities.
Why am I making a fuss, after all I could apply for citizenship and have dual citizenship? Actually no, it is currently illegal for a Zambian citizen to have dual nationality, so in order for me to get British citizenship I would have to give up my Zambian citizenship. So to go to my country of birth I would need visa, an inconvinience I am willing to endure to visit other peoples countries, not my own.
Taking my stance as an insult to their country, many then ask, rather resentfully, what I am doing in the UK if I do not want to become British. Their assumption is that I left my country looking for a better life. In reality I had not intended to stay this long, I was taking a sabbatical after which I was planning to return to my own life and my country of birth. And despite a change in circumstances resulting in my living in the UK indefinitely, I still feel homesick and I am still hoping to return to Lusaka one day.
Why am I so insistent that Zambia is my home? Well Zambia is where my roots are, where my family came from, where my village is. Where my ancestors settled, where they chose to make their home. Zambian blood runs through my veins, I have been connected to the land and the people of Zambia for longer than I have been alive, for longer than Zambia, the country, has been in existence.
I enjoy and miss sharing the food of my motherland, the taste of bream from the waters of the Zambezi, the meat of a chicken that has been running around, foraging on Zambian soil; I miss the easy understanding that I associate with Zambian customs, Zambian languages and accents. My body is in tune with the seasons so much so that every November I crave the smell of the first rains hitting the parched soil, the sound of the rain hitting the roof.
More importantly Zambia is the place I FEEL at home. Despite my long associations with the UK I find the customs here alien to my own, the people are different from me, the lifestyle, attitudes and language foreign to me. I am, ultimately, an outsider here.
Despite this in the next few years or so I may be given an ultimatum, become a British citizen or leave the country. I have been following news of the new measures proposed by the British government with growing fury at the arrogance and injustice of it. According to reports foreigners from non EU countries living in Britain will be expected to go through a new expanded citizenship process or leave the country. This is to stop people such as myself who are apparently wishing to live in limbo.
The new rules will also change the the time period within which one can become British by adding a probationary period during which potential immigrants will have to prove their worth and show that they are intergrating into their communities by participtaing in community work, running a sports team or playgroup (supposedly you would have to go through the usual poplice checks before you were allowed near children), serving as a school governor and other such activities.
Why am I making a fuss, after all I could apply for citizenship and have dual citizenship? Actually no, it is currently illegal for a Zambian citizen to have dual nationality, so in order for me to get British citizenship I would have to give up my Zambian citizenship. So to go to my country of birth I would need visa, an inconvinience I am willing to endure to visit other peoples countries, not my own.
The Rainbow nation...14 years on
I have recently learned of a home video that has destroyed the myth of South Africa as a “Rainbow Nation”. Sometime during last month, a group of white Afrikaner students filmed themselves forcing some elderly black people to eat food that they had urinated in. They also gave the black people bottles of beer, which they were forced to gulp down before being told to perform athletic feats to show their physical prowess, being black and all.
Though the video is said to have been circulating for almost a month, I have not seen it and it is unlikely that I will. I heard about it from a South African colleague who appeared greatly ashamed by the whole thing, I think he felt by telling me he was somehow distancing himself from the students. Absolution through confession, so to say. He did, however, take the opportunity to complain that there was nothing rainbow about the rainbow nation, as it has obviously left out some of its citizens, namely the white ones.
The students, who are residents of a whites only hostel, say they made the video in protest against the proposed integration of university living accommodation. Regardless of their reasons for making the video I must say the fact that they thought this was a valid form of protest speaks volumes about their upbringing, and about attitudes towards racial equality in South Africa, fourteen years after the official end of apartheid.
The video is the climax of several events highlighting the racial tensions in South Africa, including a shooting spree by a young white man in a township that resulted in the death of several black people, including women and a child. Then, off course, there was the famous lion feeding, where a white farmer and his three black employees beat a black man and threw his body to some lions. The blacks claimed to have been under the instructions of their employer. And finally the “black only” meeting of journalists which Jacob Zuma, current ANC president widely tipped to lead the country next year when Thabo Mbeki steps down in 2009, happily attended and stated that he saw nothing wrong with. He has alo been quoted as saying that South Africans should realise that sometimes people want to be with people with whom they share experiences a comment which has had the majority of White South Africans predicting the end of the “Rainbow Nation” policy.
Form all this it may be inferred that the South Africans have been living a lie for all these years. Their Rainbow Nation is a sham. The resentment on both sides, that Nelson Mandela attempted to alleviate through the Truth and Reconciliation Committee, is understandable. The blacks, oppressed for decades on their ancestral lands by people who only began to call themselves Africans in the last century, are resentful for all the pain and suffering, the lost opportunities. They are also resentful towards the continued superior attitude of some of the white people as well as the fact that those that they view as the aristocrats of the ANC have not given them the prosperity that they expected. The whites are resentful of what they call reverse racism, the advent of Black empowerment enterprises and affirmative action. Many feel that the blacks have stolen the country that they built out of nothing and protected against the failures of other African countries such as inherent corruption, poverty and illness.
How do you reconcile a country that has been split along racial lines for over a centaury? Clearly not by sweeping peoples pain under the nearest carpet. The “hug each other” approach has failed to address the inherent racism that continues to be passed from generation to generation in some sections of society. This policy has also been embraced in France, where one is French before one’s ethnicity and one is expected to let go of ones original cultural heritage. The policy, which has been the pride of France for many years, has had devastating effects on young immigrants who would like to be allowed to pursue their individuality. And 2005 and 2006 there were riots in the banlieues of Paris showcasing their frustration. Despite the current calm they continue to feel excluded.
And in South Africa we see the frustrations of the young whites cause them to flee their country, seeking citizenship in their ancestral homelands. Many take advantage of German, Dutch and English ancestors to begin new lives in the EU, away from country that has been taken from them. A few of these bring their prejudices with them, but they are better suited to life in countries where non-whites are minorities.
The young blacks who cannot flee or take advantage of the new opportunities presented to them due to lack of education, a hangover from the apartheid days, or proper guidance, as a result of the growing number of adults dying of AIDS, the frustration manifest themselves in criminal activities and violence, with gangs of young men going about “jack rolling” (“recreational” gang rape), committing murder and staging armed robberies in an attempt to get what they view as a piece of the pie.
So what is the solution? There are several things that have been suggested, such as an improvement of the education of the elderly black South Africans, who are seen as a vulnerable group, as well as the younger ones, structured accelerated land reform policy as previously promised, a system of welfare payments that allows people to re-educate themselves and gives them money so that they are not drawn to crime, harsher penalties for rape and other violent crime.
Unfortunately, in my opinion, though these measures would improve that quality of life of many of the citizens, it will not make them like each other or create great understanding and that, it seems, is the biggest problem.
Though the video is said to have been circulating for almost a month, I have not seen it and it is unlikely that I will. I heard about it from a South African colleague who appeared greatly ashamed by the whole thing, I think he felt by telling me he was somehow distancing himself from the students. Absolution through confession, so to say. He did, however, take the opportunity to complain that there was nothing rainbow about the rainbow nation, as it has obviously left out some of its citizens, namely the white ones.
The students, who are residents of a whites only hostel, say they made the video in protest against the proposed integration of university living accommodation. Regardless of their reasons for making the video I must say the fact that they thought this was a valid form of protest speaks volumes about their upbringing, and about attitudes towards racial equality in South Africa, fourteen years after the official end of apartheid.
The video is the climax of several events highlighting the racial tensions in South Africa, including a shooting spree by a young white man in a township that resulted in the death of several black people, including women and a child. Then, off course, there was the famous lion feeding, where a white farmer and his three black employees beat a black man and threw his body to some lions. The blacks claimed to have been under the instructions of their employer. And finally the “black only” meeting of journalists which Jacob Zuma, current ANC president widely tipped to lead the country next year when Thabo Mbeki steps down in 2009, happily attended and stated that he saw nothing wrong with. He has alo been quoted as saying that South Africans should realise that sometimes people want to be with people with whom they share experiences a comment which has had the majority of White South Africans predicting the end of the “Rainbow Nation” policy.
Form all this it may be inferred that the South Africans have been living a lie for all these years. Their Rainbow Nation is a sham. The resentment on both sides, that Nelson Mandela attempted to alleviate through the Truth and Reconciliation Committee, is understandable. The blacks, oppressed for decades on their ancestral lands by people who only began to call themselves Africans in the last century, are resentful for all the pain and suffering, the lost opportunities. They are also resentful towards the continued superior attitude of some of the white people as well as the fact that those that they view as the aristocrats of the ANC have not given them the prosperity that they expected. The whites are resentful of what they call reverse racism, the advent of Black empowerment enterprises and affirmative action. Many feel that the blacks have stolen the country that they built out of nothing and protected against the failures of other African countries such as inherent corruption, poverty and illness.
How do you reconcile a country that has been split along racial lines for over a centaury? Clearly not by sweeping peoples pain under the nearest carpet. The “hug each other” approach has failed to address the inherent racism that continues to be passed from generation to generation in some sections of society. This policy has also been embraced in France, where one is French before one’s ethnicity and one is expected to let go of ones original cultural heritage. The policy, which has been the pride of France for many years, has had devastating effects on young immigrants who would like to be allowed to pursue their individuality. And 2005 and 2006 there were riots in the banlieues of Paris showcasing their frustration. Despite the current calm they continue to feel excluded.
And in South Africa we see the frustrations of the young whites cause them to flee their country, seeking citizenship in their ancestral homelands. Many take advantage of German, Dutch and English ancestors to begin new lives in the EU, away from country that has been taken from them. A few of these bring their prejudices with them, but they are better suited to life in countries where non-whites are minorities.
The young blacks who cannot flee or take advantage of the new opportunities presented to them due to lack of education, a hangover from the apartheid days, or proper guidance, as a result of the growing number of adults dying of AIDS, the frustration manifest themselves in criminal activities and violence, with gangs of young men going about “jack rolling” (“recreational” gang rape), committing murder and staging armed robberies in an attempt to get what they view as a piece of the pie.
So what is the solution? There are several things that have been suggested, such as an improvement of the education of the elderly black South Africans, who are seen as a vulnerable group, as well as the younger ones, structured accelerated land reform policy as previously promised, a system of welfare payments that allows people to re-educate themselves and gives them money so that they are not drawn to crime, harsher penalties for rape and other violent crime.
Unfortunately, in my opinion, though these measures would improve that quality of life of many of the citizens, it will not make them like each other or create great understanding and that, it seems, is the biggest problem.
Musings on my self deception
Last week my partner, who is normally tact personified, made a schoolboy error. He remarked upon my weight, or rather he remarked upon an increase in it.
In terms of sensitivity I have generally veered between indifferent and neurotic when it comes to my weight. His timing was unfortunate as I am currently neurotic about it.
Let me explain. Having been the same weight for about eight years, four or five years ago I began to put on weight and I have been slowly expanding ever since. Although this state of affairs could probably be explained by the large creamy pasta dishes I eat, often washed down with copious amounts of red wine, I will not be denied my food. I have thus been going to the gym in an attempt to curb the enlargement. This has resulted in me getting more and more anxious as my weight either stays the same or increases.
Usually I am resigned to my chubbiness. However, the situation has been highlighted by the fact that I have a wedding dress to fit into in a few weeks and I want to look like a blushing bride not a gorilla in drag. Hence my current neurosis.
My irrationality about my weight is, I realise, all about image rather than good health; after all I am not obese by any stretch of the imagination and my visits to the gym mean I am fitter than I have been for years.
That is not the point; the point is I currently think I am a little fatty. And I am realising I am not alone in my irrational self perception. Every woman in my office, bar one, is on a diet, trying to melt away real or perceived fat. The one who is not has legs the size of two toothpicks bound together. Among the others, we have weight watchers, lunchbox dieters and people who are just attempting to starve themselves thin. So why are we so obsessed with our weight?
Well a quick survey around the office seems to say that a lot of women are all trying to be the weight they were in their teenage years. It seems that the majority of the women here believe this was when they looked their best, though I am sure they did not think so at the time. But why do they think this now?
Looking through magazines in the UK you are confronted with images of skinny women. Women who look as though they should be in school uniform rather than Carvalli dresses. People who admit to eating very little in order to stay looking the way they do. Women who go to restaurants, share a starter consisting of half a lettuce and a handful of cherry tomatoes between five of them and call this a meal.
These are the people that are presented as role models, the people we are told we should be looking like. And no matter how much we try to avoid it, we are bombarded with images of stick thin women. They are everywhere; they stare at us from our televisions. They are in our magazines, on billboards, even in the free daily newspapers that are handed out to us as we get on the tube or the train to and from work.
Everyday we are confronted with images of Kate Moss, Victoria Beckham, Amy “I should have said yes to rehab” Winehouse or Nicole “I don’t invite anyone over 100lbs to my house parties” Ritchie. Despite their emaciated looks, these women are hailed as beautiful style icons in glossy magazines, Nicole being recently praised for losing all her baby fat (what baby fat?) in two weeks. In the nineties when real women, with real curves, were still in fashion they were called waifs and were condemned for glamorising “cocaine chic”, a phrase that paints a so much less than beautiful and decidedly unhealthy picture.
In the name of research I have been looking around at women’s bodies and realise that generally the Kate Mosses and Nicole Ritchies of the world are few and far between. Yet, as unhealthy and unattainable as this look is for most of us, there are hordes of women trying to look this way. Fashion magazines and the industry behind them actively encourage this ludicrousness.
Apart from the flood of images, women feel fat because it is no longer fashionable to have any curves at all. The fashion industry is no longer creating clothes for real women. Super skinny jeans that make anyone with even a hint of thigh look like a heifer, shorts that require no butt (otherwise someone might mistake you for a working girl), blouses that require a distinct the lack of bosom to wear, dresses that would make anyone over 5 ½ stone look like a sack of potatoes, hang in many of the shops and are displayed in many a window. When it comes to looking for clothing, a woman with even a hint of hips, a behind and bosom has a hard and disheartening road ahead of her.
And the indoctrination is spreading; men are being sucked into the realms of skinnydom. As a result of rockers like Mick Jagger and Pete Doherty popularising the look, the shops are now stocking skinny jeans for men (I can not fit into these either). Confusion reigns supreme as many attempt to mix Hip Hop with Rock and wear skinny jeans pulled down below their bottoms, exposing their often less than fashionable underwear. It is enough to make a girl who likes men to look like men (as opposed to ten year old boys) weep tears of despair.
So where does this leave me? To be fair to myself I am not really trying to look like I am in need of good meal. That, thankfully is a thinness I couldn’t’ achieve even if I ate nothing for the next month and as such I have simply decided to forgive my Mister for pointing out where the doughnuts were going and do something different. So as well as going to the gym more I am (attempting to) eat a little less. Rocket science it ain’t!
In terms of sensitivity I have generally veered between indifferent and neurotic when it comes to my weight. His timing was unfortunate as I am currently neurotic about it.
Let me explain. Having been the same weight for about eight years, four or five years ago I began to put on weight and I have been slowly expanding ever since. Although this state of affairs could probably be explained by the large creamy pasta dishes I eat, often washed down with copious amounts of red wine, I will not be denied my food. I have thus been going to the gym in an attempt to curb the enlargement. This has resulted in me getting more and more anxious as my weight either stays the same or increases.
Usually I am resigned to my chubbiness. However, the situation has been highlighted by the fact that I have a wedding dress to fit into in a few weeks and I want to look like a blushing bride not a gorilla in drag. Hence my current neurosis.
My irrationality about my weight is, I realise, all about image rather than good health; after all I am not obese by any stretch of the imagination and my visits to the gym mean I am fitter than I have been for years.
That is not the point; the point is I currently think I am a little fatty. And I am realising I am not alone in my irrational self perception. Every woman in my office, bar one, is on a diet, trying to melt away real or perceived fat. The one who is not has legs the size of two toothpicks bound together. Among the others, we have weight watchers, lunchbox dieters and people who are just attempting to starve themselves thin. So why are we so obsessed with our weight?
Well a quick survey around the office seems to say that a lot of women are all trying to be the weight they were in their teenage years. It seems that the majority of the women here believe this was when they looked their best, though I am sure they did not think so at the time. But why do they think this now?
Looking through magazines in the UK you are confronted with images of skinny women. Women who look as though they should be in school uniform rather than Carvalli dresses. People who admit to eating very little in order to stay looking the way they do. Women who go to restaurants, share a starter consisting of half a lettuce and a handful of cherry tomatoes between five of them and call this a meal.
These are the people that are presented as role models, the people we are told we should be looking like. And no matter how much we try to avoid it, we are bombarded with images of stick thin women. They are everywhere; they stare at us from our televisions. They are in our magazines, on billboards, even in the free daily newspapers that are handed out to us as we get on the tube or the train to and from work.
Everyday we are confronted with images of Kate Moss, Victoria Beckham, Amy “I should have said yes to rehab” Winehouse or Nicole “I don’t invite anyone over 100lbs to my house parties” Ritchie. Despite their emaciated looks, these women are hailed as beautiful style icons in glossy magazines, Nicole being recently praised for losing all her baby fat (what baby fat?) in two weeks. In the nineties when real women, with real curves, were still in fashion they were called waifs and were condemned for glamorising “cocaine chic”, a phrase that paints a so much less than beautiful and decidedly unhealthy picture.
In the name of research I have been looking around at women’s bodies and realise that generally the Kate Mosses and Nicole Ritchies of the world are few and far between. Yet, as unhealthy and unattainable as this look is for most of us, there are hordes of women trying to look this way. Fashion magazines and the industry behind them actively encourage this ludicrousness.
Apart from the flood of images, women feel fat because it is no longer fashionable to have any curves at all. The fashion industry is no longer creating clothes for real women. Super skinny jeans that make anyone with even a hint of thigh look like a heifer, shorts that require no butt (otherwise someone might mistake you for a working girl), blouses that require a distinct the lack of bosom to wear, dresses that would make anyone over 5 ½ stone look like a sack of potatoes, hang in many of the shops and are displayed in many a window. When it comes to looking for clothing, a woman with even a hint of hips, a behind and bosom has a hard and disheartening road ahead of her.
And the indoctrination is spreading; men are being sucked into the realms of skinnydom. As a result of rockers like Mick Jagger and Pete Doherty popularising the look, the shops are now stocking skinny jeans for men (I can not fit into these either). Confusion reigns supreme as many attempt to mix Hip Hop with Rock and wear skinny jeans pulled down below their bottoms, exposing their often less than fashionable underwear. It is enough to make a girl who likes men to look like men (as opposed to ten year old boys) weep tears of despair.
So where does this leave me? To be fair to myself I am not really trying to look like I am in need of good meal. That, thankfully is a thinness I couldn’t’ achieve even if I ate nothing for the next month and as such I have simply decided to forgive my Mister for pointing out where the doughnuts were going and do something different. So as well as going to the gym more I am (attempting to) eat a little less. Rocket science it ain’t!
Youth Culture? Not just Childs play
On my way to work this morning I realised that the media is slowly indoctrinating me.
As I sat staring through the window of the train, day dreaming instead of reading the business analysis text on my lap, I was dragged kicking and screaming back into the real world. A group of young black teenagers (or youths as I like to call them) came stumbling into my carriage, laughing and talking at the top of their voices. I took one look at their hair (I tend to judge men by their hairstyles!) and their style of dress (saggy trousers, hooded jackets, baseball caps) and presumed they were up to no good.
I had already had a hectic morning with my train being cancelled and the replacement being delayed. So when three black teenage boys, whose command of the English language cast aspersions on the quality of State education, came bumbling into my carriage I thought that perhaps my luck had ran out. I was scared enough to turn my engagement ring around so that the stone was resting in my hand, out of sight of any casual glances. I also ignored my phone as it told me I had received a text message. I sat in silence trying to study their faces (so I could describe them to the police) without being noticed. I almost went into shock when the only other person in the carriage got off the train, as I was dreading being left alone in carriage with the young men.
So was I mugged, harassed or stabbed? Well off course not, the boys were simply hiding in that particular carriage because they didn’t have tickets. Irritating and illegal yes, but barely an offence to put the fear of God in my heart at the sight of them. They appeared to be students at the Further Education College near my office and were really just minding their own business for most of the journey, though they did decide to take over the whole carriage and shout across me. They were simply bad mannered, nothing, apparently, to be afraid of.
So why was I scared? Well in recent years several young people have attacked and killed members of the public. Incidentally I was not afraid because they were black youths, I was scared because they were youths, period. Teenagers appear to have been running rampant.
The first I heard of the violence that has permeated youth culture was an incident in Canning Town, East London, when a gang of teenagers, who had been threatening a family for several months, shot the young father because he finally stood up to them. This was followed by a several teenagers being stabbed or shot in various parts of London, some killed as they sleeping in their beds. Then there was Mr Newlove, who was beaten to death outside his home in Cheshire after he confronted a gang for scratching his wife’s car. This week the newspapers have been reporting about the stabbing of a young mother whilst she was trying to stop a fight on a night out. It was her first night out since the birth of her child. Then there is the young man who was killed after standing up to two teenagers who threw a half eaten chocolate bar into his sisters car. And these are just the attacks I have paid attention to and remembered.
To exacerbate the perception I have of young people I watched a programme on television that followed gangs in Glasgow and South London, showing the most meaningless violent acts performed by children as young as ten.
So what is causing this behaviour in the young people? As always, the youth involved are from the more under privileged areas of the country; people from broken homes and broken communities. Would I have been frightened this morning if the boys had been dressed in public school uniforms and speaking with public school accents? No, off course not, money and privilege would have given them the appearance of being safe to be around and to be fair incidents of Public school boys attacking people on the street are rare.
It could be said that they are too ambitious to engage in random attacks on the general public. They are generally conditioned to put their energies into going to best universities, getting the best job even sometimes the best partners. They also tend to be have access to facilities that allow them to engage in sport, learn musical instruments or perhaps nurture artistic talent. In short their time, minds and bodies are occupied.
It appears that for poorer children, the apparent lack of opportunities to better themselves as well as the lack of entertainment choices manifests itself as ennui. The gangs of Glasgow and South London sighted boredom as the main reason they became involved in violent acts; they simply had nothing to do so they fought with children from other estates.
I was quite shocked to watch this, because when I think about the poorer young residents of Lusaka, they tend occupy themselves by finding a job as maids or gardeners. At worst they will resort to stealing to eat rather than killing people for fun. Perhaps I am unaware of what is truly going on in the communities that would be comparable in my country but we simply do not get reports of children killing each other for the sake of it.
What’s the difference? Our societies are structured differently. The police officer in the Newlove case sights cheap alcohol and lack of parental responsibility. I would add the break down of community spirit in a lot of these areas. When I was growing up if one of my “aunties” of “uncles” saw me doing something my parents would not like they intervened. I had boundaries wherever I went because everyone was watching me. And, in the UK at least, it is entirely the government fault.
Several policies have led to an economic situation that has led to many state schools selling off their sports facilities and excessive health and safety rules have resulted in teachers being afraid to take children on field trips, leading to idle hours where there previously were none The advent of the Nanny State, in which the state micro manages our lives, has led to people abdicating responsibility not only for their own actions but for their children’s. They do not have to manage their children because it is the state’s responsibility to do so or perhaps they cannot deal with certain issues with their children because the government has not told them what to do in this situation.
This has resulted in children not really being shown the difference between right and wrong. And it is a self perpetuating cycle as these children grow up and have children, teaching them the same amoral violent attitudes. A proportion of the gang members in Glasgow were third generation gang members a situation that makes it difficult for them to see that it is possible to live life differently.
This story however, has a happy ending as several charities have began to take an interest in the plight of these youths and give them something to do beside beating each other with metal objects. They have created clubs where they can hang out together or get involved in sport and generally be in a safe environment. This has given some of the youths hope and taken them off the street.
As these programmes of change continue to rescue our young people, I hope I will be less prejudice against the young. I hope I will begin to feel safer around them. And perhaps I will be less inclined to paint them with the brush created by sensualist media headlines.
As I sat staring through the window of the train, day dreaming instead of reading the business analysis text on my lap, I was dragged kicking and screaming back into the real world. A group of young black teenagers (or youths as I like to call them) came stumbling into my carriage, laughing and talking at the top of their voices. I took one look at their hair (I tend to judge men by their hairstyles!) and their style of dress (saggy trousers, hooded jackets, baseball caps) and presumed they were up to no good.
I had already had a hectic morning with my train being cancelled and the replacement being delayed. So when three black teenage boys, whose command of the English language cast aspersions on the quality of State education, came bumbling into my carriage I thought that perhaps my luck had ran out. I was scared enough to turn my engagement ring around so that the stone was resting in my hand, out of sight of any casual glances. I also ignored my phone as it told me I had received a text message. I sat in silence trying to study their faces (so I could describe them to the police) without being noticed. I almost went into shock when the only other person in the carriage got off the train, as I was dreading being left alone in carriage with the young men.
So was I mugged, harassed or stabbed? Well off course not, the boys were simply hiding in that particular carriage because they didn’t have tickets. Irritating and illegal yes, but barely an offence to put the fear of God in my heart at the sight of them. They appeared to be students at the Further Education College near my office and were really just minding their own business for most of the journey, though they did decide to take over the whole carriage and shout across me. They were simply bad mannered, nothing, apparently, to be afraid of.
So why was I scared? Well in recent years several young people have attacked and killed members of the public. Incidentally I was not afraid because they were black youths, I was scared because they were youths, period. Teenagers appear to have been running rampant.
The first I heard of the violence that has permeated youth culture was an incident in Canning Town, East London, when a gang of teenagers, who had been threatening a family for several months, shot the young father because he finally stood up to them. This was followed by a several teenagers being stabbed or shot in various parts of London, some killed as they sleeping in their beds. Then there was Mr Newlove, who was beaten to death outside his home in Cheshire after he confronted a gang for scratching his wife’s car. This week the newspapers have been reporting about the stabbing of a young mother whilst she was trying to stop a fight on a night out. It was her first night out since the birth of her child. Then there is the young man who was killed after standing up to two teenagers who threw a half eaten chocolate bar into his sisters car. And these are just the attacks I have paid attention to and remembered.
To exacerbate the perception I have of young people I watched a programme on television that followed gangs in Glasgow and South London, showing the most meaningless violent acts performed by children as young as ten.
So what is causing this behaviour in the young people? As always, the youth involved are from the more under privileged areas of the country; people from broken homes and broken communities. Would I have been frightened this morning if the boys had been dressed in public school uniforms and speaking with public school accents? No, off course not, money and privilege would have given them the appearance of being safe to be around and to be fair incidents of Public school boys attacking people on the street are rare.
It could be said that they are too ambitious to engage in random attacks on the general public. They are generally conditioned to put their energies into going to best universities, getting the best job even sometimes the best partners. They also tend to be have access to facilities that allow them to engage in sport, learn musical instruments or perhaps nurture artistic talent. In short their time, minds and bodies are occupied.
It appears that for poorer children, the apparent lack of opportunities to better themselves as well as the lack of entertainment choices manifests itself as ennui. The gangs of Glasgow and South London sighted boredom as the main reason they became involved in violent acts; they simply had nothing to do so they fought with children from other estates.
I was quite shocked to watch this, because when I think about the poorer young residents of Lusaka, they tend occupy themselves by finding a job as maids or gardeners. At worst they will resort to stealing to eat rather than killing people for fun. Perhaps I am unaware of what is truly going on in the communities that would be comparable in my country but we simply do not get reports of children killing each other for the sake of it.
What’s the difference? Our societies are structured differently. The police officer in the Newlove case sights cheap alcohol and lack of parental responsibility. I would add the break down of community spirit in a lot of these areas. When I was growing up if one of my “aunties” of “uncles” saw me doing something my parents would not like they intervened. I had boundaries wherever I went because everyone was watching me. And, in the UK at least, it is entirely the government fault.
Several policies have led to an economic situation that has led to many state schools selling off their sports facilities and excessive health and safety rules have resulted in teachers being afraid to take children on field trips, leading to idle hours where there previously were none The advent of the Nanny State, in which the state micro manages our lives, has led to people abdicating responsibility not only for their own actions but for their children’s. They do not have to manage their children because it is the state’s responsibility to do so or perhaps they cannot deal with certain issues with their children because the government has not told them what to do in this situation.
This has resulted in children not really being shown the difference between right and wrong. And it is a self perpetuating cycle as these children grow up and have children, teaching them the same amoral violent attitudes. A proportion of the gang members in Glasgow were third generation gang members a situation that makes it difficult for them to see that it is possible to live life differently.
This story however, has a happy ending as several charities have began to take an interest in the plight of these youths and give them something to do beside beating each other with metal objects. They have created clubs where they can hang out together or get involved in sport and generally be in a safe environment. This has given some of the youths hope and taken them off the street.
As these programmes of change continue to rescue our young people, I hope I will be less prejudice against the young. I hope I will begin to feel safer around them. And perhaps I will be less inclined to paint them with the brush created by sensualist media headlines.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)