The voice of the poor and
oppressed in Swaziland
31 March
2015 Kenworthy News Media
Are you
tired of reading books, reports or articles by middle-aged, middle-class
professors, authors, NGO-employees or journalists (like me) about how
poverty-stricken Africans feel about or should react to their poverty? Writes Peter Kenworthy of Kenworthy News Media.
Are you
tired of seeing these Africans (who after all live in over 50 different
countries and speak over 1000 languages) represented in a generalized way or in
a way where we subconsciously (but falsely) come to believe the fact that they
are silent, helpless victims that need our help and guidance?
Then you
ought to read Mkhonzeni Dlamini’s “Phoenix mysteries – memoirs of a born oppressed”,
about what it is like to grow up in abject poverty in Swaziland – and succeed
against all odds.
Understanding
the real Swazi, not the statistical one
Apart from giving a good general description of what it is like to grow up in a mud hut in the rural African countryside, with barely enough money to eat or to attend school, the book also describes the unique culture and political setting of Swaziland, Africa’s last absolute monarchy – a “truth that is stranger than fiction”, as Dlamini puts it.
Apart from giving a good general description of what it is like to grow up in a mud hut in the rural African countryside, with barely enough money to eat or to attend school, the book also describes the unique culture and political setting of Swaziland, Africa’s last absolute monarchy – a “truth that is stranger than fiction”, as Dlamini puts it.
Since
literature from Swaziland is relatively scarce, especially literature that
criticizes the government and challenges the status quo, and since those who do
so are harassed by the police, Mkhonzeni Dlamini’s book is particularly
interesting.
Also
because even though there are many statistics, reports and articles about
Swaziland, understanding Swaziland (or any other country for that matter) also
means understanding the individual Swazi and his or her mental set-up.
Humble
beginnings
Mkhonzeni grew up in stick-and-mud hut with cow dung-smeared floors in an impoverished village outside Nhlangano, a town in Southern Swaziland with a population of about 10,000. His mother was a house-maid, his father an alcoholic ex-miner who, as many other Swazi men, had worked in the South African mines.
Mkhonzeni grew up in stick-and-mud hut with cow dung-smeared floors in an impoverished village outside Nhlangano, a town in Southern Swaziland with a population of about 10,000. His mother was a house-maid, his father an alcoholic ex-miner who, as many other Swazi men, had worked in the South African mines.
His
parents were too poor to be able to afford luxuries such as electricity or
running water, let alone a washing machine. So Mkhonzeni had to cook, fetch
bilharzia-infested drinking water from the local river, and wash his clothes by
hand.
From time
to time he and his family had to sell marijuana (that had accidentally
germinated in their yard), walk to town to buy packets of biscuits and other
snacks to sell in the village, and rear and sell piglets and pork to survive.
Especially when the yield from their small maize field was poor, or when local
thugs had stolen the honey from his bee-hives.
Education,
education, education
Somehow, despite of these adverse conditions, Mkhonzeni managed to get himself a university degree, and the main argument Mkhonzeni Dlamini makes in his book is that education is a way of transcending both physical and intellectual poverty, and that it is therefore a precondition for both personal and political change.
Somehow, despite of these adverse conditions, Mkhonzeni managed to get himself a university degree, and the main argument Mkhonzeni Dlamini makes in his book is that education is a way of transcending both physical and intellectual poverty, and that it is therefore a precondition for both personal and political change.
Getting a
proper education in Swaziland, especially when one belongs to the 70 percent of
the population that survive on less than a dollar a day, is an uphill battle,
however.
Mkhonzeni
describes how he had to bend his right hand over his head and touch his left
ear, to be admitted to primary school (which he failed to do the first two
years), how he had to go to school on an empty stomach with no writing
utensils, how corporal punishment was “rampant” in a school that had no running
water and only eleven geography text books, and how he was expelled several
times for owing school fees.
Indeed,
most of his classmates dropped out of school due to lack of money. But
Mkhonzeni rose to the challenge, studying hard, reading newspaper scraps before
his father used them to roll cigarettes, writing articles for newspaper
competitions, making toy cars out of wire, tins and pieces of wood, and playing
with disposed electronic equipment as a creative precursor to his engineering
studies later in life.
Tear-gassed
at university
By way of his excellent grades, and the financial aid of private benefactors, he was able to enroll at the University of Swaziland and complete a bachelor’s degree in engineering, whilst avoiding most of the pitfalls and restrictions of Swazi traditionalist culture.
By way of his excellent grades, and the financial aid of private benefactors, he was able to enroll at the University of Swaziland and complete a bachelor’s degree in engineering, whilst avoiding most of the pitfalls and restrictions of Swazi traditionalist culture.
Mkhonzeni
was also able to avoid the pitfalls of being a poor student, such as being able
to afford accommodation and food, or making sure you do not fail an exam, as
the extra cost of retaking it would mean the end of his academic career for many
poor university students. This was done by adopting an “affordable lifestyle”
that excluded alcohol, clubbing and smartphones, sacrificing other “luxuries”
such as girlfriends and movies, and studying hard to make sure he passed his
exams.
He was
not able to avoid the police brutality that is a regular part of the life of
any university student at the University of Swaziland who questions the status
quo, however. Police used tear gas, rubber bullets, whips and batons to
disperse the student demonstrations or attempts to deliver petitions to the
Minister of Education, to complain about low student allowances or the
postponement of exams that Mkhonzeni took part in.
Change
yourself and change the system
It is forbidden to question the status quo in regime’s version of a Swazi traditionalist culture, that is built on corruption and nepotism and used to oppress and exploit the poor, as well as to promote child and women abuse.
It is forbidden to question the status quo in regime’s version of a Swazi traditionalist culture, that is built on corruption and nepotism and used to oppress and exploit the poor, as well as to promote child and women abuse.
And if
you wanted to receive a scholarship, or after graduating, a position as a civil
servant, you need to participate in the cultural events of the king, pay
bribes, vote in the sham elections, and generally keep your head down,
according to Mkhonzeni. “Everything is owned by the king and respect for him is
paramount to living a smooth life. The whole land in rural areas is under the
chiefs’ control on his behalf”.
In the
book, he likens Swaziland, with its dictatorial leader, lack of freedom of
expression, ideological coercion, and wholesale detention of dissidents, to
Orwell’s Animal Farm. “I had once thought Orwell was an ordinary Swazi”, he
says.
Understand
us, help us
At the age of 26, Mkhonzeni Dlamini seems rather young to be writing his memoirs. But we don’t question a Wayne Rooney or a Lionel Messi when they write their memoirs about a more trivial matter, football, at a similar age.
At the age of 26, Mkhonzeni Dlamini seems rather young to be writing his memoirs. But we don’t question a Wayne Rooney or a Lionel Messi when they write their memoirs about a more trivial matter, football, at a similar age.
Mkhonzeni
has said that releasing the book now means that he is still relevant to the
situations he is describing and that he believes that “releasing a memoir book
at old age when you are happily married, employed and financially stable is an
act of cowardice”.
He also
told me that he wrote the book both as an inspiration to his fellow poor, young
Swazis, but that he also had also written it for the rest of the world.
“I want
the world to know the realities about life of ordinary citizens in Swazi
countryside. I want the world to know that our government is like an uncaring
and abusive stepmother, and I want the world to help us pressure our government
to introduce democratic reforms, so we can all have access to equal
opportunities in life”, he said.
And
having read Mkhonzeni Dlamini’s book, is seems obvious that any true and
meaningful opposition to the present Swazi regime, and any true democratization
that is to follow, will have to be an educational and cultural revolution as
well as a political one.
Mkhonzeni
Dlamini had been unemployed since graduating from University in October 2014.
Swaziland currently has an unemployment figure of over 40 percent.