Hollow sloganeering takes shine off struggles women go through

THE relief on my husband’s face when I told him I had chosen not to celebrate Women’s Day/Month this year was priceless.

The poor man had apparently been scratching his head all of last week thinking what gift to get me or how he could make the day special in some way.

As important as it is on our political calendar and as celebrated as it is in our country, this month for me is neither here nor there.

In fact, I find it patronising that as women – supposedly equal citizens to men and with the same rights enshrined in our constitution – we have a dedicated month to “celebrate” us.

Don’t get me wrong. I understand the historical significance. In fact, in my book Lillian Ngoyi, Helen Joseph, Albertina Sisulu, Sophie Williams and the rest of the 20 000 heroines who marched to the Union Buildings on August 9 1956, in protest against unjust pass laws, are some of the finest and bravest people to ever walk this Earth.

They were pathfinders whose blood, sweat and tears made it possible for me to wake up every day and do what I do without fear or prejudice. To them I will forever be indebted.

Yet, instead of basking in the glory of womanhood every August, my heart sinks when I think about how our generation of female political activists has dropped the baton handed to them by the Ngoyis and Sisulus.

Every year, government spends millions of rands on different events to celebrate the contribu- tion of women in the growth and development of our nation.

Predictably, every year on August 9, social networks are abuzz with Happy Women’s Day messages signed off with the corny “#You strike a woman, you strike a rock”.

This year, I just could not bring myself to join in the excitement.

Not when the day before my helper came to work battered and bruised because, yet again, her partner had used her as his personal punching bag.

Her sin? She did not pick up his calls when he repeatedly phoned her days before.

The reality is that when the celebrations die down and slogans are silent, this is the brutality that awaits many women at home.

Granted, by now my helper should have left her sorry excuse of a man and taken responsibility for her own life and safety.

But that is another debate altogether.

My point is that she, like many women across all sections of our society, is a victim of an entrenched culture of patriarchy in our nation.

It is a culture that allows some men to get away with making sexist, derogatory statements to wo- men in boardrooms, all in the name of “harmless” banter.

It is a culture that teaches schoolboys to find validation in the number of girls they can “acquire” and mistreat.

Ours is sadly a society that allows some men to carry out the most inhumane acts on women and children

Ours is sadly a society that allows some men to carry out the most inhumane acts on women and children, often with little or no consequence.

It is because of the false superiority imposed by such a culture that the Thembu royal family spokesman, Chief Daludumo Mtirara, could boldly tell the world recently that the only way that Winnie Madikizela- Mandela’s legal claim to the late Madiba’s Qunu home would be entertained was “if it came from her son”. “Since she and Mandela only had daughters, Zinzi and Zenani, she does not have a leg to stand on.”

There is no doubt that the responsibility to change our national psyche in this regard lies with all of us and not just political formations.

Yet, as powerful organisations that influence every sector of our society, political parties have a crucial role to play in this fight.

During a post-election dialogue at the Nelson Mandela Metropoli- tan University this week, I shared how I found it disturbing that none of our political parties effectively owned the campaign against gender-based violence in the run-up to the recent elections.

Because ours is one of the most dangerous countries for women and children to live in, such a campaign should be equally important, if not more, than the fight for jobs, economic development, health and education. But why is it not? A young female student at the dialogue argued that the lack of political will to drive a sustainable campaign against gender-based violence is simply because women leaders in political parties have all but abandoned this fight.

She further argued that the ANC Women’s League, for example, is a shadow of its former self and has over the years been reduced to a factional lobby group used to advance the political ambitions of their male counterparts. I agree. As the biggest women’s political formation in the country, the Women’s League has lost the plot.

Showing up in court, clad in green and black to support a victim of gender-based violence, is, I imagine, heartwarming for the person who needs the support.

But not only is it reactionary, it does very little to empower women to make decisions that change them from victims to victors.

Until this happens, please excuse me from this month’s celebrations.