Culture being smothered by oppressive system
YES, we need to talk. About art, education and women. Not only in Women’s Month, but every day. It is a conversation I find myself having regularly. Why don’t they take arts and culture seriously? Why are spaces of learning under constant attack?
Why are there fewer female arts students, and females, heading organisations than our erstwhile male colleagues, achieving notable success in every field?
Let us begin with the state of the arts. Not only is the Durbanbased Centre for Fine Art Animation and Design (CFAD) engaged in a David and Goliath battle with the Department of Education and its disingenuous attitude in restoring the 25-yearold institution’s registration
(lost through five robberies), but nationally, highly experienced women are being prevented from leading art institutions, while veterans like Ismail Mahomed are facing serious challenges at the renowned Market Theatre.
Is this a coincidence or a deliberate plan? Is the constitutional right to artistic freedom under attack? And who benefits from this emerging pattern?
Meanwhile, there is little doubt that the right to education is dying. The drowning of little Michael Komape in a pit latrine screams from the depths of shame. Meanwhile, smaller institutions are being swallowed up by corporate monopolies whose main focus is not social justice empowerment.
The struggle to decolonise curriculums continues. NSFAS is in turmoil, and is designed to support only students attending public institutions. The Department of Higher Education and Training is reportedly insolvent. Students at Unizulu even launched a #Saveunizul campaign.
To her credit, Minister Naledi Pandor went to engage these students. Perhaps they have more courage than institutions afraid to speak up for fear of being victimised by uncaring and unaccountable public servants. But is this what the youth of 1976 sacrificed their lives for?
And where is the right to real equality? Conversations with female students at the CFAD are revealing. They say society does not always encourage and support them to pursue their passion, a career in the arts. While we encourage and challenge them as much as their male colleagues, there is pressure to settle down, get married, have children and give up on their dreams. This is a shame. They’re equally and, in some instances, more talented than their male colleagues, excelling in fine arts, design, web design, animation and cartooning.
In an international animation project they are working on, team leaders are equally female and male. But it takes a lot more than that to succeed.
How can they flourish when the arts are crumbling, when education is in crisis, when unemployment increases, when patriarchy rules, and when violence against women and children is normal?
At a recent #Thetotalshutdown march across our country, the messages were powerful. Wathinta bafazi, wa thinta mbokodo – strike the women and strike the rock! But violence is not only physical. It is psychological. It is systemic.
When the Department of Education threatens to shut down a place they feel safe in, a space that encourages them to believe in themselves and support each other, we realise that Women’s Month is 11 months too short. It is impotent.
The iconic 1956 Women’s March saw 20 000 women march on the Union Buildings to challenge the government of the day on brutal oppression through apartheid laws. Laws that were strangling the people.
#Thetotalshutdown march on August 1, 2018 saw more than 20 000 intersectional women, girls and gender-non-conforming people demonstrating against a pandemic of escalating violence, to have equal voices, to know justice, to own the right to life, dignity and freedom. When they reached the Union Buildings, our police attacked them. Senzeni na – what have we done?
A message was delivered on live TV to President Cyril Ramaphosa: if the memorandum of justified demands with a clear plan of action isn’t rolled out, elections won’t happen next year. This is what happens when people feel ignored and disempowered; when women, children and young people are violated; when artists are silenced by cowards; when failures in education strangle economic freedom; when laws oppress; when the Freedom Charter is just a piece of faded history. The clock’s ticking.
We’ve seen the signs, Mama Winnie and Mama Meer. And we are ready.
Shabnam Palesa Mohamed is an activist, former journalist, media commentator and attorney. She’s also the manager at the Centre for Fine Art, Animation and Design.