HEYTA DA Humble essence
LET ME explain that “Heyta da” is a civilised South African greeting employed and used by the cool. In other words being a mugu and socially stiff you are likely not to understand the phrase.
It is not Xhosa, hayi. It is not coloured Afrikaans, nee. It is not English, no. Neither is it Zulu, cha. It is civilised, ewe, ja, yebo, yes.
It is also very cool in the sense that it can be used at any time of the day. In other words it does not have the kind of hang-ups and problems of standard language in Xhosa, English and Afrikaans, and stiff language. It is therefore an incredible joy and honour to be able to employ it in the usually restrained essences of English newspapers.
Frankly speaking “Heyta da” can be utilised anytime, anywhere, to anyone without chances of a bleeding nose. The most likely response being a smile or a friendly hug.
Don’t ask me who invented it. I don’t know. It is not Xhosa, Sotho, Tswana, Venda, Zulu, Afrikaans or English, but everyone knows it. In other words there is no South African location that does not understand heyta. They sometimes pretend to have forgotten it, but that is not the same as saying the phrase is unknown. In other words please do not forget Heyta da. In other words, when you meet me in the street, say “heyta da” and I will smile.
Okay, frankly speaking, I want Capetonians to have a “heyta da” attitude across the many divisions they have. Ethnic, religious, tribal or sexual differences should not be an albatross around our necks, no. It should rather be one of those tremendous attributes that makes life a poem.
Let me be honest, the reason I am writing this column is because I do not like the racial and ethnic disquiet of Cape Town. And worse, the discomfort is deeper than the apartheid social malfunction. I do not understand it, especially when I remember the glorious essence of a Western Cape racial existence. I also have noticed that the city does not really know how to laugh.
The Baxter might now and then make a gesture towards humour, but what about Mitchells Plain, Gugulethu and Khayelitsha.
Speaking about Khayelitsha, do you know that the place is the second-largest township after Soweto? But don’t worry, your lack of ignorance does not make a comment about your mindedness.
I think it is a comment on Cape Town. Cape Town does not portray the big international essence it possesses.
Personally, let me brag and boast, I have been to all the continents of the world. None possess a city more beautiful than the Mother City. None possess the snoek. Whenever I go overseas, I carry snoek with me. Then three or four people from the international place I visited come to South Africa and end up in Cape Town.
But my despair when they arrive here is when they start questioning the illogical existences of Khayelitsha. I am a jazz lover (and Khayelitsha has many jazz lovers and players), but there is no jazz nightclub in Khayelitsha!
Why is that, I humbly ask? Is it maybe because the neighbours in Mitchells Plain and Athlone won’t feel safe going there?
Methinks the city needs a major rethink on the social level. In other words I don’t think your political home is more serious than a joke, but I insist that Capetonians should teach each other humour.
Lots of humour. But it does not happen unless Pieter-Dirk Uys has decided to go to the Baxter.
How many times does Uys make it to the Baxter? You know what I mean!
Shouldn’t the Western Cape authorities be made aware of this irksome reality, because with all the political party obsessions they tend to overlook the cultural essences of a snoek reality.
Between me and you, Cape Town is slightly more than its narrow politics.
I am constantly flabbergasted by the city’s less than excited attention to Robben Island. Between me and you, Robben Island, for 18 years, housed one of the greatest men in South Africa and the world: Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela.
Does the city know this? Or are they a bit shy? Or is it a national question? I just don’t feel right about this. UCT and the University of the Western Cape are also not loud on the contradictions of Cape Town.
I feel a bit loud. Maybe the fact that my sociological reality is the Karoo might be a reason for my indepth inabilities to understand the complexities of Cape Town.
It is a bit difficult for me to live with these deep divisions in a city with the beauties and the extremely complex souls of Cape Town. And I think that is the point!
Cape Town is not just a geography. It is an essence that is more complex than us. Why is Robben Island for instance only an island without any tourist drive that gets the international world’s glorious attention. Is it not us who must be seen to be insistent that Africa and the world must not forget the extreme traumas of that island.
The next time I climb Table Mountain I will say heyta to the city and its townships and rivers.
Because, between me and you, Cape Town is beautiful from anywhere, but it is worth seeing it from the mountain.
There is something that can be felt in the midst of the soul when I climb the mountain.
Then I do not understand how the people who live in the glorious geographies of its shadow are ignorant of the poetry of the mountain’s glory.
I sometimes wish that there was something about the sociologies of Cape Town that would ensure we do not look away from the mountain. But there isn’t.
I do not forget that the world has learnt that the heart – that beautiful organ that we possess – was first delicately transplanted here at a hospital called Groote Schuur.
And so why, do I ask, don’t we seem to possess that brilliant love and essence that the Chris Barnard (the first heart transplant surgeon) moment should have given us.
There are, in Cape Town, a lot of moments with a simple heyta da power, but I do not think we know how to use them. I also have a suspicion that we don’t want to know how to use them. I however will not rest in my search and attempts that the beauty of this city wants us to have.
I know that the biggest moment in Cape Town is not when the south-easter blows a shack to pieces or shatters a boat on the Indian or Atlantic. It is that deep realisation of a humble human essence that speaks the many languages of a Cape serenity.
I know we have it. We just need a beautiful moment that gives us the many beauties of a joint experience. Please let me be right. Heyta da!
Today the Cape Times starts a new column, “Heyta da”, by poet and former Cape Times arts editor Sandile Dikeni. Shanil Haricharan’s column, “Songololo”, due today has been moved to Mondays.