‘We are nobodies who must beg not to be killed’

Let’s have an honest conversation …

The life of a woman – specifically a black woman in South Africa – is complicated. To all intents and purposes we are equal to men – but every day that we permitted by men to live, governed by systemic and cultural patriarchy, is a reminder that we are nobodies who must beg not to be killed.

The conversation that African men refuse to entertain is around gender-based violence (GBV) statistics in SA. They’d rather have a drink than discuss why they think it’s okay to use a woman as a punching bag.

Are they protected? What factors shield violent male behaviour? Are physical build and financial discrepancies (men generally earn more than women) the reason? Or is it our age-old cultural practices that produce our menfolk?

A son is revered and celebrated, he will inherit his father’s cows and house. What could a woman who should be focusing on food preparation know about building a legacy? She must find a husband and leave.

Biological differences play a big part… but there are continuous systemic barriers that make things even more complex.

When current Miss South Africa Zozibini Tunzi won the Miss Universe contest in 2019, her defining words were: “We need to take up spaces.”

As the audience roared in excitement, the question came to mind: why is it in this day and age that we still get excited by a woman declaring that her gender should be seen?

Why is it still breaking news that a woman is the first? Our grandmothers marched in August 1956 against pass laws, black women declared themselves imbokodo (rocks) – yet 64 years on, we still have to continuously proclaim our importance.

Every day, living in South Africa for a woman means donning mental armour and getting ready for internal warfare, a war that few or no men will understand.

As a woman, working in a largely male-centric office, preparing for work, means having to worry about daily perceptions: How short is my skirt, am I wearing too much makeup? Are my heels too high? Is this outfit too provocative?

Daily, I consider my physical appearance, to shield myself from danger. I worry about unwanted advances that will turn into an uncomfortable emotional argument.

I ask myself silently: Are the words that come out of my mouth too harsh? Could they incite a violent attack?

That Erin Brockovich- and Olivia Pope-type of image of a sexy powerful woman who wins against a system of men, works only on Hollywood screens.

In Africa, a woman is expected to be meek, mild and submissive – and that sort of thinking is still quite prevalent.

So, often we withdraw into our inner shells, at times second-guessing ourselves.

Toxic men don’t realise that sexist jokes men make around women about women are offensive and polarising. Come on, sweetie, is the attitude: it’s banter after all and a good agreeable girl should know how to play along with “harmless” teasing.

A colleague, comfortable in his man zone, thought it a good idea to tell me I should smile more. Do you see anyone ever telling a man in the corporate world to “smile more”? I didn’t think so …

In the business world, anger and aggression are seen as the fuel men need to succeed – and when they do, they are often admired.

It’s the opposite for women, though: trying to be like man in those ways defines you as the warmonger bitch in the corner that nobody wants to converse with.

It’s been said that men live shorter lives due to the repression of their emotions but, sadly, women live shorter lives in South Africa because many men believe they express their opinions too much.

The reality is that our extreme level of violence against women is culturally systemic and for many years has been silently permitted.

A woman who reports physical abuse to the police is mostly encouraged to go home and “fix it”, and come back if it happens again. She may never return; next time it happens she might just end up in the cemetery.

Violence and harm against women became such a source of entertainment that DStv channel Moja Love created a reality show called Cishe Ngafa, (I nearly died) – the premise of which is for the family of an abuse victim to share first-hand accounts of living with violence.

But there is never a sense of remorse or resolution from the perpetrator.

Our laws and governmental systems are largely to blame – but the unspoken truth is we teach our boys that they are culturally superior to our women. A woman is a perennial servant who should perform her duties and should be seen and not heard.

Until women are justly perceived as equals, men will continue to kill us – and get away with it …

Thami Kwazi.

– thamik@citizen.co.za

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