Reflect on the past and pray for the future
I WRITE What I Like is a book that was brought out by anti-apartheid activist Bantu Stephen Biko.
It is a selection of his writing from 1969 to 1972. He was prohibited from publishing it at the time, but it finally appeared in book form in 1978, was republished in 1987 and again in 2002.
The title is taken from the name of his articles which he published in the newsletter of the SA Student Organisation (Saso), of which he was president. Interestingly, he wrote under the pseudonym Frank Talk.
In this fortnightly space allocated to me in this popular newspaper, I write pretty much about what I like, too. However, today I am concentrating on human rights, as the day to commemorate those rights in South Africa is this week.
“What’s it all about?” as the infamous movie character Alfie, made famous by Michael Caine, was known to say.
Well, in 1948, the ruling National Party started formulating a series of laws to monitor and control the movement of black people.
They wanted to limit their activity in urban areas. Blacks could only leave their dwellings in the rural areas if they got a permit from local authorities within 72 hours.
This aberration became known as a Reference Book, or Pass, which included a photograph, place of origin, work record and details of any previous entanglements with the police.
On March 21, 1960, in a town called Sharpeville, in what is now southern Gauteng, a peaceful crowd assembled to protest against the Pass laws. Towards the afternoon, the crowd, consisting of between 7 000 and 10 000 protesters, made their way to the local police station.
What happened next has been a source of much disagreement and conjecture, but the aftermath saw police opening fire on the crowd. Some say the crowd was peaceful and others say they hurled stones at the police.
Whatever the truth regarding that fateful day, this sad happening saw 69 fatalities and 180 people injured. Some unfortunate souls carried lifelong reminders of this terrible incident as many became crippled due to injuries suffered.
Ike Makiti, a former Robben Island political prisoner and survivor of the Sharpeville massacre, once told a reporter a chilling account of the event: “The shooting only lasted for about 15 minutes under a dark cloud above us. As dead bodies lay strewn like piles of rubbish in front of the old police station, it rained so heavily, washing away the blood… to me, the rain signified a new beginning for us.”
In modern South Africa, March 21 is commemorated as a public holiday to remember the Sharpeville massacre and to celebrate human rights.
The Bill of Rights reaffirms the democratic rights of all our citizens to enjoy freedom, equality and dignity.
Well and good, but let’s bring it closer to home. You and I work hard and strive to give our family what we reasonably can to lead comfortable lives and, more essentially, to enjoy safety and security in our sanctuaries.
I deliberately call our homes, be it ever so humble or ostentatious, a sanctuary. It is almost sacred to us. It is where we come after a long day at work. When we are home, it is our human right to feel protected and safe from the world.
What human right gives criminals the permission to violate that sanctity? To rob us of our hard-earned possessions and, sometimes, of our lives?
What sick right allows mentally deranged people to hijack our motoring safety by hurling rocks through our car windscreens?
One such miscreant, caught a few weeks ago, was asked what made him do these things. His shocking reply was that it brought him great pleasure to do it.
What diabolical force gives a mother, who went through painful labour to bring a beautiful baby girl into this world, the right to wilfully beat the innocent kid almost to death?
What Satanic right allows a despicable excuse for a human to lay back in comfort and make a video of this evil deed?
Besides the rights allocated us by the law of this country, we need to exercise our personal rights. We are entitled to it.
It is the duty of an already understaffed police force and overcrowded courts to assist us in asserting these personal rights. Without that, it would be an all-out attack and massacre of our democracy and freedom.
Let not tomorrow be a solemn day for us. Yes, reflect on the past, but also pray for the future.
May the envisaged Rainbow Nation shine ever more colourfully as we each take our rightful place in the sun.
Celebrate your freedom and demand your dignity. After all, it is your very special human right.