Zukiswa Wanner

It’s been a week since President Jacob Zuma held an imbizo with 400 artists in Sandton. Except that somehow between the Presidency and the Department of Arts and Culture it was decided that artists consists of filmmakers, actors, and musicians.  I mean honestly I am still confounded on how it is possible that 400 artists can be invited to an imbizo and none of them are writers, dancers, and visual artists. Or perhaps the last three cannot do a good rendition of uMshini Wam? 

I cannot talk for dancers and visual artists of course but perhaps the country’s president did not know that, after the demise of Eskia Mphahlele (rest his soul), the country still had writers. If this indeed is the case, I put all blame at the foot of the Department of Arts and Culture because they seem to do a good job of excluding writers except when they want a poem recited at one of their functions.  No. Trully. In 2005 I attended my first Arts & culture imbizo when Dr. Jordan was still Minister of the portfolio. I attended in my capacity as a publicist for a museum. In the room were musicians, film makers, a dancer, and a photographer. No writer. Not one. Then two years ago a writer friend of mine attended another Arts & Culture imbizo  – no, not as a writer but in his capacity as a journalist. He was not expected to make any contributions to the proceedings and he recalls that a statement was made by then Director General that the writers are ‘alright’ before the DG proceeded to ask what the film makers and musicians wanted.  An interesting pronouncement given that they did not have writers and therefore could not possibly have known whether we were or were not alright. I mean why call it a ministry of Arts & Culture if it is selective of the artists that it represents or listens to? Why not just call it a Ministry of Film and Music?

I was bemoaning this to one of my friends who attended but he told me I did not miss anything. Why? I asked. Because in his I-feel-your-pain manner the head of State allegedly came in with a prepared speech, read it, gave the gathered ‘artists’ just one question each, and then was whisked off to the next public relations pow wow. And yet I still would have liked to be there because I have a few things I would have liked to ask  Mr. Zuma disguised as one question.

• I would have asked Mr. President whether he plans to make a pronouncement for quotas of shelf space for South African books in  bookstores in the same way that there has been advocacy for quotas in music played on radio stations? Now,  I realise that bookstores are not state-owned like some radio stations but given his oratorical skills and charm, I am sure the President could make all the bookstores an offer they cannot refuse (failing which I would try to see how I can get together with Comrade Julius and talk about nationalising bookstores).
• I should have also liked to find out what he is reading or if he does read, and if so, what his favourite South African read is (and here I would ask him to exclude his biography from the list).
• If I had been at the imbizo, I would have asked the State President how he plans to improve literacy in schools when most of his provincial Education and Arts & Culture departments have ignored the offered contribution by writers top visit schools, workshop teachers and read at libraries a la ReadSA initiative.
• I might also have offered my services in a part-time capacity as a speech writer because Mr. Prez, some of those speeches are lacking in shine.

I spent a fair share of last week trying to get through the presidential hotline to ask why no writers were invited to the imbizo. I failed to get through, gave up, and decided to write this piece instead. But here is hoping someone at Arts & Culture and at the Presidency is taking notes and they remember next time that artists go beyond filmmakers and musicians.   And oh, Mr. President, please get in touch to answer all of the above questions and talk about the way forward before I do a one-woman toyi-toyi at the doors of DAC. How do you contact me? Ag dude, google me!

A few months  ago I got an email from a high school mate of mine telling me he was coming back to the continent. Now, I have known Phil since we were both thirteen. Phil was that kid most people in high school didn’t dig because they felt he was too bourgeois (which he bloody was!) but somehow it all changed when we went to college in the States. Anytime I was Zimsick, Phil was the one person I could call and chat to in lengthy phone calls while he was in college in Florida and I attempted dismally to learn the hula in Hawai’I (clear indication that black people having rhythm is a myth).

So when he emails me he tells me he is coming home. And I am bloody excited. I hadn’t seen this cat in ages. So I meet up with him a couple of weeks after his arrival and he hasn’t changed a bit since I last saw him when he was 18 (either that or my brain hasn’t aged. I am more for the latter, eternal 21 and all).

He tells me he is decided to become a businessman and I am impressed being a full-time writer and all and a full-time businessperson in my own way. ‘My sneakers are being launched, yada yada yada’…ok, whatever Phil, I become a little sceptical here. But you know, I do the whole encouraging mate thing.

And then last week I get an invitation.

And lat night I went to the launch.

Jhung Yuro ( www.jhungyuro.com) and True Ambition ( www.trueambitionlife.com ) are not the type of shoes that one would wear to the office unless you work for an NGO, are in advertising, or an artist. But if what my daddy said was true that you judge a man by his shoes, then in casual wear, they are IT and in my eyes, you wear Jhung Yuro and you are all good dude. At the launch, the hip-hop beats were pumping (great for the target market but crap for dinosaurs and anyone over 25 who was keen on the shoes thus my short stay. Oops, kidding. I am really 21.), and Phil was marvellously on board to explain everything to anyone who had any questions about the brand.  I am generally my friends’ greatest critic but I must admit to being impressed (obviously not by the music but by the product itself). The many pairs I looked at were well worth their cost in Rands. The cost and the stitching were stellar and I can see guys wearing them for a ball game, for a non-dressy date, or, because they appeared comfortable enough, for a laidback day at home. Somehow Phil and his partner (non-sexual) Sam managed to find a niche market for something that they are passionate about and it shows. If I had enough of a budget I would certainly have bought a few pairs for some guys I know. As it was, after I left, I sent texts to all my living ex-boyfriends who are still talking to me and in this town to go and check the sneakers at Munk on 10A in 7^th Street in Melville out (now that would be street NOT avenue, babes).

But these two young entreprenegroes are not doing it for Joburgers alone. They have decided that Africa is their oyster and will be setting up concept stores for their brand of sneakers all over the continent. I have it on good authority that they have just signed the lease for their Harare store and will be hitting Nairobi in the not too-distant future. So to all the men looking for a good pair of sneakers that is actually for you by you, it may be coming to you sooner than you think.

On a continent where we have been ingrained to believe that we need someone to give us a job to make it happen, I am proud of Phil  and Sam’s go-getter attitudes in daring to venture where angels fear to tread. I wonder just how much richer this continent would be if more Africans in the Diaspora realised the possibilities that are on their mother continent instead of wasting their brilliant talents as third class citizens in the Western world.

There are those who will argue about issues of crime, corruption and what-not on the African continent and I choose not to dispute that (although I could mention the fact that former French president Jacques Chirac is going on trial for corruption is an indication that crime and corruption are not the sole preserve of Africa and Africans). What I would like to highlight though is that all things concerned, this place we call home is, as the advert highlights, alive with possibilities, and when we put our minds and efforts to it, we can make it work for us.

So as I sit and type this, I raise my cup of tea to a continent of intellectuals that I hope will bring their intellectual property home soon so we can make this continent as great as it should be.

 I raise my cup in the hope that one day we shall be on the cover of some magazine as The Continent of Hope and Achievement as opposed to the Hopeless Continent.

And I raise my cup to Phil and Sam– marketing a designer sneaker brand in an Africa where we survive on less than a dollar a day -now that’s True Ambition!