In praise of fathers — and all our ‘dads’
Surrogate relatives who protect and nurture children are a staple feature of African societies but there is no official support for such men
Sibusiso Tshabalala was in grade 11 when his elder sister, Nomfundo, then in matric, fell pregnant. “I was so excited when I heard the news because I always wanted to be an uncle.” When baby Zee was eight months old, in January 2017, Nomfundo moved to Johannesburg to further her studies. Baby Zee remained behind in Morgenzon, outside Standerton in Mpumalanga, with her grandmother and Sibusiso. But when her grandmother found work as a security guard, Sibusiso was tasked with Zee’s caretaking. He was 18.
“Early in the morning Zee would wake up, talking in funny sounds, getting me to come and fetch her. Once I’d given her a bottle of milk, changed her nappy and dressed her, we’d start playing. I made her laugh when I pretended to be a horse and gallop with her on my back,” he says.
Her favourite game was to “talk” on the phone using old Tupperware containers. “We’d love talking to our imaginary friends,” he says.
Other games included him being a “monster” and chasing her while she crawled away.
Zee’s biological father was not part of her daily care routine because he had left Morgenzon to find work before she was born, but his family supported her financially, buying infant formula, nappies and food for the house.
Zee’s paternal grandfather, in particular, was present in her early life, having visited Nomfundo in hospital when Zee was born and choosing Zee’s name.
Fathers have a bad reputation in SA. Media reports perpetuate this narrative and at first glance the statistics confirm this. It’s true that only 36% of children live with their biological fathers. Unisa sociologist Marlize Rabe notes, however, that this indicates only biological fathers and does not “constitute the full picture of fatherhood”. Other images we are fed include violent men, broken men and absent men. But fatherhood in SA is historically complex and its manifestations are nuanced.
Sibusiso is what is known as a “social father”. Wessel van der Berg and Tawanda Makusha, editors of 2018’s
“State of South African Fathers” report, define social fathers as: “… a person that takes on the responsibility and role of being a father to a child, but who is not the biological male parent of the child. The status of fatherhood is therefore a social status rather than a biological one, and may be actively sought by and/or ascribed to the person by their family or community. One person could be a biological father to one child and a social father to another.”
The report concludes that throughout Africa there is recognition that the person fulfilling the role of father may not always be the child’s biological father. “The African context raises the relevance of a social father — an ascribed, as opposed to an attained, status for maternal and paternal uncles, grandfathers, older brothers and mothers’ partners who singly or collectively provide for children’s livelihood and education, and give them paternal love and guidance.”
Sibusiso is given further status by being the maternal uncle, or malume, to Zee. Male relatives are “extended” fathers. In Zulu culture some children refer to their father’s young brother (ubaba omncane) or his elder brother (ubaba omkhulu) as the child’s junior or senior father. In African societies a father is a man who fully engages in the responsibility of caring for and protecting children. Sibusiso, as malume, holds a position of authority and has clear responsibilities. Historically, bomalome (uncles) were described as disciplinarians who were able to guide young people, and as defenders in situations where participants needed protection in the community. Today, 71% of households in SA include a male relative.
Sibusiso’s position is historically rooted: apartheid’s systems that restricted and controlled movement, including the migrant labour system, meant that many biological fathers could not live with their families. Professor Linda Richter and Makusha assert that the reason for fathers not living with their children can be attributed to various factors: migration, poverty, unemployment, past and present incarceration, societal factors such as the high rate of male deaths due to violence and HIV and Aids, and costs related to cultural practices such as payment of inhlawulo (damages for making a woman pregnant) and ilobolo.
If the reality of fatherhood in SA is that it’s diverse, then the support and acknowledgement at policy level of a variety of father figures is inadequate. Though the child support grant is gender-neutral, meaning that any caregiver fitting the criteria can claim it, there isn’t enough awareness among parents of who is eligible to access the grant. Makusha confirms that over the past 20 years, only 2% of the total number of child support grant recipients were men. “Fathers, mothers, families, communities, civil society and the state must come together to promote father involvement,” says Makusha. One of the ways of doing this is changing maternal, newborn and child health services to support greater male involvement in caregiving and gender equality.
A father figure’s role is critically important in the life of a child. The first 1,000 days (from conception to the time the child is two years old) are particularly crucial as brain development in this period is more rapid than at any other time. Children thrive on close bonds with caregivers. Evidence shows that men who are bonded to their children are less likely to be violent and abusive towards them. A review in low- and middle-income countries found that men’s engagement during and after pregnancy significantly improves women’s health and reduces the odds of post-partum depression. But men are generally “unacknowledged sources of support for children. Reproductive health-care messages, especially for pregnancy and early childhood development, are often targeted to women, who are considered the primary caregivers of children,” says the report.
Zee is now two-and-a-half years old and being looked after by her grandmother again. Sibusiso is studying at the University of the Free State. He speaks to Zee over the phone three times a week. She calls him baba and squeals when she hears his voice. Sometimes, though, she gets distracted by her dolls. Sibusiso will return home for three months in November after his exams. “I’m doing this for Zee. I want to help give her a good life,” he says.
The African context raises the relevance of a social father
Amato is a fellow at the Dart Center for Journalism and Trauma