A day to recognise sacrifices made for freedom

On April 27, 1994, thousands queued outside polling stations for hours to ensure that they made their mark for the first time, to have their voices heard regardless of the colour of their skin.

On sunday, South Africa celebrated 20 years of freedom and the spirit of that first special voting day could be felt among the thousands of people who flocked to the Union Buildings to celebrate.

For some it was an emotional day as they shed a few tears reminiscing about the hardships they had endured.

Syswell Mahlanyana said that getting her freedom was the restoration of her dignity as a human being. She said: “I wouldn’t even know where to begin in telling what this day means to me. Young people today just don’t get what freedom means as it was never denied to them.

“We now have that freedom to do as we want to, to dream and aim as big as you want to, we have tarred roads, RDP houses, upgraded clinics, schools and so much more than we ever could have hoped for,” said Mahlanyana.

A woman cheers at the Union Buildings. The Freedom Day celebrations held a special poignancy as it was the first Freedom Day since the death of Nelson Mandela in December at the age of 95. Picture: Mujahid Safodien

Horst Seute, originally from Germany but resident in South Africa for 45 years, said: “It’s been a remarkable 20 years for South Africa. It has progressed so much and the next 20 should be even better considering the development thus far.

“I think the racial divide is no longer there as I’m involved with an Indian woman and it isn’t something strange. The only hurdle would be the cultural part that’s still a bit hazy,” said Seute.

Loud cheers and ululating rung out as three helicopters carrying national flags flew over the Union Buildings, a 20-gun salute was fired and thousands of balloons released.

Tshwane mayor Kgosientso Ramokgopa also joined in the festivities and said the day was not just about celebration. “Today is to record our appreciation for the sacrifices made by ordinary men, women and young people, but it is also to remind the youth that it is now up to us to bear the burden of ensuring South Africa progresses,” he said.

Gauteng Premier Nomvula Mokonyane said a lot still needed to be done to bridge the racial divide.

“We need to invite other people of colour as they too are enjoying the fruits of our liberation,” she said. 

Article and images courtesy of IOL: http://www.iol.co.za/news/politics/a-day-to-recognise-sacrifices-made-for-freedom-1.1681162#.U16G6_mSxZ4

Sharpeville remembered

South Africa's Human Rights Day, 21 March - declared International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination by the UN - is synonymous with an innocuous but historic township, Sharpeville, situated between the industrial cities of Vanderbijlpark and Vereeniging about 50 kilometres south of Johannesburg.

For many South Africans, the day will always remain Sharpeville Day, a commemoration of the 21 March 1960 Sharpeville massacre, when the police mowed down 69 unarmed people and injured 180 others who refused to carry the hated dompas identity document that was meant only for indigenous Africans.

An image from the Sharpeville Remembered Print Portfolio, a collection of 55 prints produced by 22 local artists in a collaborative effort between the Department of Visual Arts and Design of the Vaal Triangle Technikon in Vanderbijlpark and the Artist Proof Studio in Johannesburg

The day, sometimes also referred to as Heroes' Day, was a watershed in the country's liberation struggle, hence its inclusion in South Africa's post-apartheid holiday calendar.

What happened on that day?

More than 50 years on, the question still surfaces: what exactly happened on that fateful morning?

Joe Tlholoe, one of the country's most prolific journalists, who was a high school pupil at the time, wrote years later: "With hindsight, the story is simple. The PAC [Pan Africanist Congress], which was 16 days short of its first birthday, had called on African men to leave their pass books at home, go to the nearest police station and demand to be arrested for not carrying the dompas."

The apartheid pass laws humiliated African men in particular.

Every indigenous African male above the age of 16 had to carry the dompas on his person day and night and produce it on demand by the police. Failure to produce, forgetting the pass at home, or not having the right stamp, meant arbitrary arrest and jail.

"When the police in Sharpeville saw the masses marching towards them, they panicked and opened fire, killing the 69 and injuring hundreds," Tlholoe wrote.

"The country went up in flames as anger spread through townships across the country. More were killed in the days after Sharpeville."

An outraged international community turned against the Nationalist Party government. The struggle had reached a new level on the long road towards the country's democratic elections on 27 April 1994.

"That is the simple story that historians will relate," Tlholoe wrote. "The real story was a more complex mixture of pain and grief, suffering, anger and courage, that is best left to izimbongi, the African epic poets, to tell."

Pan Africanist Congress leader Robert Sobukwe, who led the anti-pass law protest march to Sharpeville police station on 21 March 1960 (Photo: Liberation Archive, University of Fort Hare)

Robert Sobukwe

March 21 1960 was the culmination of planning, public meetings and house-to-house canvassing by a young PAC that had broken away from the African National Congress (ANC) on 2 November 1958 and had its inaugural congress at Soweto's Orlando Communal Hall between 6 and 8 April 1959.

Robert Mangaliso Sobukwe, a 34-year-old lecturer in African languages at Wits University at the time, opened the congress and was elected president. He spelled out the PAC's policies and painted a picture of a South Africa after liberation that was non-racial, democratic and socialist.

In July that year, Sobukwe announced that the PAC would embark on a programme of "positive action" against oppression. In December he announced that the first target would be the pass laws.

Sobukwe led the march to Orlando Police Station, where he and the party's leadership were arrested, just after they learned of the massacre in Sharpeville.

The journey to the recognition of basic human rights, now entrenched in the Bill of Rights in South Africa's post-1994 Constitution, had begun in earnest.

Armed struggle begins

In the aftermath of the massacre, following the declaration of a state of emergency on 30 March 1960, thousands of black people were arrested throughout the country.

On 8 April 1960, the Nationalist Party (NP) government, under the premiership of apartheid architect Hendrik Verwoerd, banned the PAC and ANC, forcing the two movements to go underground and eventually into exile. The days of peaceful protest, so the ANC and PAC declared, were over.

What would follow was protracted guerrilla warfare, the armed struggle against the "regime" waged by the two organisations. This would last 30 years, with the NP eventually forced into negotiations for a new dispensation with leaders such as Nelson Mandela, whom it had branded "terrorists".

In December 1961, the ANC's armed wing, Umkhonto weSizwe, detonated its first bombs.

Sobukwe, who was first sentenced to three years' imprisonment on Robben Island for leading the anti-pass law protests, was kept in jail indefinitely under a special amendment to the General Laws Amendment Act – the Sobukwe Clause – which was rushed through Parliament.

Released from Robben Island and banished to Kimberley in 1968, Sobukwe was already ill, and died from cancer 10 years later. But the march for human rights and dignity continued.

In 1986, under heavy pressure, rightist president PW Botha repealed the pass and influx control laws which curtailed the movement of blacks in their country of birth.

New country, new Constitution

The ANC-led government chose Sharpeville as the venue to launch South Africa's new Constitution, signed by its first democratically elected president, Nelson Mandela, on 8 May 1996.

Since then, a number of laws have been enacted to protect basic individual rights in South Africa.

Among these are pieces of legislation that significantly provide for gender equality, and give citizens equal access to courts in the event of any form of discrimination.

Statutory institutions such as the Commission for Gender Equality, the Human Rights Commission, and the Commission for the Promotion and Protection of the Rights of Cultural and Linguistic Communities, also now exist.

The Sharpeville massacre of 21 March 1960 is regarded by many as the defining moment in South Africa's struggle for liberation (Photo: Literature Faculty, Utrecht University)

On 21 March 2001, South Africa unveiled the Sharpeville human rights memorial on the site outside the police station where the 69 men, women and children were shot - most of them in the back. Their names are all displayed on the memorial plaque.

SAinfo reporter and SAnews.gov.za

Read more: http://www.southafrica.info/about/history/sharpeville.htm#.Uy9FNvmSxZ5#ixzz2woudEXxp

Effective Investments in Education

The Challenge

Education is a fundamental right for everyone and key to the future of any country. Education has its price everywhere—but the only thing more expensive than investing in education is not investing in education. Inadequate education produces high costs for society in terms of public spending, crime, health, and economic growth. No country can afford to leave too many of its children behind and not to help them achieve the competencies needed for a self-fulfilled life in economic independence.

But the main challenges in education differ across countries and continents. The industrialized world faces the impacts of demographic change, such as a shortage of skilled labor and ageing societies. Emerging countries need to respond to increasing demand in education. And in some parts of the world, it is still not a given that every child has the right to go to school—and, hence, a big share of the population cannot read and write.

Despite these differences, there are common challenges. For example, the "inheritance of educational status" is a global problem: people's education achievement largely depends on their socioeconomic background and the educational status of their parents. Although some countries provide more equal opportunities than others, it remains a challenge everywhere to improve the chances of those children lost to inadequate education.

But education budgets are limited, especially in times of economic downturn. Thus, it is worth comparing countries that have decreased and augmented their education budgets during the crisis—and evaluating the consequences of these decisions. If, on the one hand, investments in education are vital and, on the other hand, budget constraints restrict the available resources, investments should be as effective as possible. The question then is: where does it make sense to invest most in education?


An alternative view of investments in education is that they should be higher where the problems are greatest: that would mean greater effort to tackle inadequate education and more money for programs for children who are lagging behind. Research shows that inadequate education is a problem for the whole of society—even the elites—and that everyone benefits from minimizing the number of low-educated people. Is it possible to invest in more quality in education? What form of qualification will produce the best teachers and pedagogues? And what mechanisms should be used to allocate resources?

Education remains one of the most important duties of any government: it is a public responsibility to provide access to high quality education for everyone. Therefore, public investments need to ensure a good educational infrastructure for lifelong learning. But can private organizations, companies and Nonprofit organizations provide additional supply. Could they become substitutes or should they instead function as supplements to public institutions?

Intelligent financing concepts for education should be based on needs and specific background rather than distributing untargeted subsidies. New concepts of resource distribution require greater transparency. But what should this transparency look like? Will external accountability enhance quality or should there be more focus on capacity-building and self-assessment to improve the education system? How can financing mechanisms provide effective and sufficient investments in education even in times of crisis?

CSI holds the key for education in South Africa

Corporates need to start investing now in their future workforce
Education in South Africa today is fraught with challenges. Teachers and learners struggle due to limited resources and tools, resulting in a general falling of standards. Decreasing the national pass requirements to 35% will not solve this problem and it has a ‘knock on’ effect as matriculants face the challenge of obtaining university entrances, writes Paul Fick, Divisional Managing Director, Jasco Enterprise.

Raise the bar and instil a sense of pride
Even when they do ‘make the grade’, the ‘gap’ between school and university standards becomes apparent, further making it more difficult to pass. Action is required from corporate South Africa to assist government in its efforts to improve the level of education in South Africa. Corporates need to start thinking and investing in their future workforce to ensure that South Africa as a nation remains globally competitive.
This means raising the bar and re-instilling a sense of pride in learning and an attitude of excellence. Corporate South Africa also needs to start equipping the youth with the tools for a better education. These tools are not only to assist in combating unemployment, but also to ensure that more competent graduates are employed to strengthen our economy. Technology solutions are key enablers of these sought after outcomes. However, government alone cannot meet the educational needs of our future leaders. Corporate South Africa has to become more involved.

Incorporating investment into education technology into an organisation’s CSI initiatives is not only vital for improving education, it also benefits organisations directly as they can be assured of more qualified, better prepared future employees. However, simply donating money is no longer enough. Education technology initiatives need to be carefully planned by specialists, applied correctly within schools, and accompanied by continuous teacher training initiatives to empower educators to embrace new methods of teaching and inspire learners to further their education.

What’s lacking is this…
Although there are ongoing efforts to incorporate technology into schools, what is lacking is a solution that is specifically designed for educational facilities. The Critical Links Education Appliance is the world’s first purpose-built education server, a ‘school in a box’ that enables up to 3000 students to be connected on a single server and delivers an enriching educational experience with one-on-one e-learning to develop skills in the 21st century.

As a holistic solution, the Education Appliance addresses planning and implementation challenges, since all of the tools that are needed are built in to the central server and students and teachers need only a basic end-point device to access this. The rugged Classmate PCs that are part of this solution have been designed to withstand the tough school environment: they are spill resistant and highly robust. Intricate security has also been incorporated into the laptop style devices to ensure that should the devices get stolen they can be rendered useless, making them unable to be sold, which will prevent the massive losses due to theft. The Education Appliance, together with stimulating customised educational content developed by local partner LearnThings, offers a complete interactive learning solution that engages and empowers learners.

A cost-effective solution
The Education Appliance is also a cost effective solution that enables any classroom to become a computer lab quickly and easily with a centralised administration facility that enables all sites to be remotely managed for ease of maintenance. For a minimal investment any corporate can deliver a full ‘classroom in a box’ complete with server, 30 Classmate PCs and WiFi connectivity. The server can also be linked into any existing computers the school may have, so the GSOP funded devices if still available, will not be a wasted investment. All the required infrastructure functionality is integrated into a single appliance, combining modern learning techniques with smart technology to help both students and teachers overcome their fears of computers. The Education Appliance lets teachers create dynamic, up to date lessons and allows learners to have convenient 24-hour access to learning resources.

Getting the necessary technology into schools is of the utmost importance, and it is up to corporates of all sizes to get involved to ensure future success for students and business. By sponsoring a classroom, with hardware such as the Education Appliance as well as teacher training to bring them up to speed with 21st century techniques and devices means businesses can help schools to access technology and teachers to become more passionate, inspiring learners to partake in their education and their future.

Government has a roadmap for the implementation of ICT in schools, but this must be augmented by corporate efforts. The process needs to be sped along if education in South Africa is to be improved, and in order to do this, corporates and business need to step up to the plate and spend their CSI money wisely, investing not only in learners but in their future employees and in the economy as a whole. For more information visit Jasco at www.jasco.co.za

Content and images supplied by: http://www.wecanchange.co.za/

My HIV/AIDS Shame

I first heard about Aids in a magazine. I was 9 years old reading through things that many people thought my mother should not be letting me read. That article told me two things that - this disease was scary, dangerous and I needed to be careful with my blood. I will never forget a conversation that I had with my mom soon after that, she had asked me if I knew what AIDS was and I had proceeded to wow her with my knowledge. I was mighty chaffed with myself for having read that article and remembered enough for my mom to be taken by surprise by how much I knew. Fast forward a couple of months and I found myself sitting in a hospital room with my mother, my twin sisters and a decidedly uncomfortable looking doctor. I immediately recognised the moment as one of those many awkward situations where my mother forced adults to allow me into conversations that they felt I had no business being a part of because of my age. My innate curiosity piqued I snuggled up to my mother and listened with interest. The doctor was going through my mother’s medical history of the past few months, as if we had not just lived through it, eventually losing her patience my mother interrupted him and told us frankly, clearly



“What he is struggling to say to you is that I have Aids.”

A few simple words and our lives changed. Forever. My mother, my hero, my infallible warrior woman of a mother suddenly became a mere human being. In addition, an incredibly careless human being on top of that, I mean I was 10 years old and I had managed to keep my blood safe enough not to get infected. I was upset with her for getting sick with such a preventable disease, a disease unlike flu that just floated in the air and chose to invade your body uninvited, a disease that she had courted by not being careful enough to not let her blood mix with anyone else’s. I was suddenly unable to affectionately kiss my mother like before and I became very conscious of every scab, every playground scratch and would give her the proverbial church hug, with my butt sticking out and only our arms connected, every time I had any kind of injury. Can you imagine that? Having your child who usually clambers all over, you struggle with touching you? So she organised that I be taken out of school and spend some time in hospital with her. We spent countless hours discussing the HI Virus and how it became full blown Aids, hours talking about the body’s soldiers in the immune system and even more hours wrapping my 10 year old brain around what “bodily fluids” really are. She also spent far too many hours apologising to me for having loved someone so much that the choices she made were now compromising my security. She said she was sorry that not only did I have to lose my mom, but that I also had to watch her die this way. My mother’s death from AIDS was not quick and it was not pretty, I saw her waste away… every time I would return home from school it felt like there was even less of her left than before. But she never once allowed her spirit to be bowed. My mother may have regretted some of her choices but she was never ashamed of having AIDS, she never lied about it, never cowered from the fact and I am grateful that she armed me with knowledge and truth so that I remain proud of her today.


Sadly, our family did not feel quite the same way. I read the press release about my mother’s death, read the newspaper article with a beautiful photo of my sisters at the funeral, read the magazine article about her and my grandfather’s careers in the media industry and in all those amazing words written in tribute to her not once was Aids mentioned. One of the biggest battles and biggest triumphs of her life and not a single mention. Family members would talk about her protracted illness from everything ranging from Pneumonia to TB and every other Aids-related complication she had had in those last months but I never once heard anyone talk about HIV or AIDS. This taught me that, contrary to what my mother broke herself to teach me in that hospital room, this disease that ripped her from my life was a shame that could not be allowed to blight her good name. I spent years envying friends who had lost their mothers in car accidents, years telling people that my mom had died of cancer, because I figured it was a more respectable illness than AIDS.

When I lost my father to AIDS at age 16 I knew for a fact that no one would believe that both my parents had died from cancer, so I tried TB on a couple of people. Except at that time TB was now associated with AIDS and I saw the looks, so I soon changed the story and started telling people he that he had had liver failure due to alcohol abuse and killed himself in a car accident. Again society had taught me that a suicidal and alcoholic father was more respectable than one who had contracted AIDS. I consoled myself with our president’s statements that people do not die from AIDS. Being the walking HIV/AIDS fact-book my mother had created I knew that technically he was right, because people die from the health complications they only get after AIDS obliterates the immune system, this meant my parents didn’t die of AIDS so technically I wasn’t lying. I also started getting involved in AIDS peer counselling, but didn’t get very far because I found it difficult to answer questions about why I cared enough about the “AIDS Pandemic’ to want to give up my weekends learning about it and training as a peer counsellor.



In 2009 I lost my sister to AIDS. I remember someone asking me as I was packing my life up to go back to Durban and help take care of her, if she wasn’t maybe HIV positive and we should try and get her onto anti-retrovirals. Despite all my knowledge and education about the disease I still reacted with shame and fear and proceeded to give that person a piece of my mind about the many reasons why my sister could most definitely NOT have HIV. Both my sisters were ashamed to tell me when she was still alive that she was HIV positive. That shame ran so deep and so strong that neither of them, smart women who had lost their mother to this disease, could bring themselves to get her on anti-retrovirals until it was far too late. So in 2009, 3 years ago, my sister needlessly died from AIDS. It was difficult to answer questions about how she had passed on, because it had become increasingly difficult to pretend that HIV/AIDS was a theory to me, increasingly difficult to keep denying that this disease has irrevocably changed the course of my life.
 
I can no longer carry the burden of a shame that should not exist. I can no longer be silent in lieu of protecting myself and my family and our legacy. I can no longer pretend that I am not one of the many faces of HIV/AIDS, either through infection or affection. I no longer want to agonise about whether or not someone – my sister – would not have been infected or affected by AIDS if I had been brave enough to believe my mother’s final lesson to me, been brave enough to speak loudly and honestly about my experience with this disease. I am a little afraid of the whiplash of writing this then disseminating it, but it is estimated that millions of people are living with HIV and that thousands have died from AIDS this year alone. Although this is probably much less than in 1998 when my mom died, it is still far, far too many in light of the advances in medicine since then.

My father, Sicelo Hlatshwayo, a beautiful man with art in his veins and music in his soul. An amazing man whom I loved very much did not die of TB or liver failure or suicide or any other story I have ever told. He died as a direct result of AIDS. My exquisite smart and talented sister, who taught me about grace, who loved and understood me so profoundly that I struggle to articulate it, also died as a direct result of HIV/AIDS. My warrior woman mother, who bred in me a fearless and unconditional love, who lived in truth and with integrity who delighted her fans on TV screens across the country, who was fondly known as “Babazile” whose name is Beryl Tusini, who was NOT ASHAMED… I lost her to AIDS as well, AIDS and nothing else. And I hope I am doing her legacy some justice by telling this story, I hope I am becoming my mother’s daughter, hope that I am healing and finally shedding my HIV/AIDS shame.

Blog post courtesy of Nolwazi Ntusini:
http://thingsivelearntalongtheway.wordpress.com/