Corrosive emphasis placed on black victimhood

THE turbulence of South Africa in the 20th century was reflected in the diverse Hammanskraal of my youth. A quick tour of my sliver of vast, complex, bewildering Hammanskraal – I grew up in Leboneng, filled with stoic people whose main consolation in life was they owned the large plots they lived on, even if, due to dispossession, it was the second or third time they were buying land.

Many of those forcibly removed from “white” Pretoria settled there. Majaneng, a nearby village to the north, was a community led by a traditional authority that had settled there after fleeing internal battles in Limpopo many years previously.

To the south lay Temba, a modern “township” with government-issue two- and four-roomed houses.

This was a tough place, not designed to nurture hopes and aspirations but, at best, to provide labour for the city of Pretoria and the farms surrounding it. But people made a life in the melting pot of languages and cultures that drew from each other’s strengths.

In particular, Ndebelespeaking families were known to pool their resources in exceptionally successful rotating schemes, using them in two main ways: building sizeable houses and starting businesses, including entering the nascent taxi industry. They took the little that Hammanskraal gave anyone and multiplied it many times over.

Everyone spoke in admiring terms of this community. There was very little of the “pulling-down syndrome” that is said to permeate black life.

There were occasional accusations of stinginess but even this was seen as a virtue. Driving past their houses, it was instilled in me that these were the fruits of prudent financial management – the reward for people who saved, pooled their resources and kept their commitments to one another over long periods of time.

There were other role models.

A certain Habakuk Shikwane also once took refuge in Hammanskraal and built a thriving business there. This was a man who had started his cane manufacturing business from nothing to become an industrialist and an exporter.

Herman Mashaba also comes to mind as an industrialist from those dusty streets. This is to say, as a child in a place often dismissed or written about in horribly stereotypical ways, one was not short of good role models for economic success.

I don’t think this is unique to Hammanskraal. My elders had many anecdotes to share about successful communities and individuals, equipping me with lessons that shaped my basic instincts about money, wealth and success.

Studying economics and business in elite institutions did not make me feel as though I was being inducted into an unknown world. I did not harbour any doubt about my own people’s capability to achieve prosperity, even under the most difficult circumstances.

Despite apartheid, some black South Africans found a way to attain some financial security. They would have been wealthier, no doubt, if left to flourish unconstrained.

So, I’m confused by the popular characterisation, perpetuated by racists, do-gooders and some black people, of black South Africans as economic innocents and illiterates who need every crutch imaginable to succeed. Or as superficial consumerists who can’t resist bling and debt.

I see ordinary black people buckling under the weight of these stereotypes and assumptions, which threaten to be self-fulfilling.

I worry about the message sent to young people.

The narrative is too much about black victimhood.

There must be a way to talk about our history, and to demand redress, without giving fuel to the lie that we are without ingenuity and resilience. I also worry that quiet financial success after years of hard work is undervalued.

You need to crack a big deal and lead the high life. Is crony capitalism what the next generation should be aspiring to?