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By Danie Toerien

Journalist


Who puts the her in heritage?

Turns out I may have drawn the short straw and ended up in a multi-coloured-socialist-matriarchy.


Every year, Heritage Day produces its quota ofdebates around the concept, its role in remembering our history, the way forward, with specific reference to eradicating the injustices of the past, and the importance of reparations.

And, of course, who is going to win the Currie Cup.

This year, I was involved in a series of very important debates on Heritage Day. I must confess, I am one of those people who refer to it as Braai Day, hence all the debates centered on the braai.

What else was there to talk about? There hadn’t been a single local rugby match for months.

As usual, there was the question of wood versus charcoal and firelighters versus kindling.

Make no mistake, this is an important starting point as it involves sustainability, as well as our carbon footprint of every braai.

This year, I delved slightly deeper, asking who should be in charge of making and lighting the fire.

I came to within a whisker of being burned at the stake when I suggested we de-Western-gender the event and let the women search for wood, make the fire and cook, as is the custom in many rural communities.

In my clan, it seems, the women are quite happy to spice the meat and make a salad while the men take charge of the fire and the liquid refreshments.

But I wasn’t giving up that easy. I remembered a piece I’d read about Heritage Day many years ago, in which the author quoted another author who had coined the term “white supremacist-capitalist-patriarchy”.

Using this term, I ventured further into our gendered Braai Day debate, asking if the capitalists would mind a socialist-style meal where we share and devour the food off the braai as it is cooked.

The alternative would be that every man takes his family’s meat to the matriarch for distribution based on gender and importance within the family, like many people tend to do at a braai.

I was told to stop talking, pass the braai broodjies and refill the women’s glasses.

Turns out I may have drawn the short straw and ended up in a multi-coloured-socialist-matriarchy. Or that’s just my heritage.

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