Afro-politan lifestyle, inspiration, and political combat in the Southern most of Africa
Friday, 20 April 2012
Thursday, 19 April 2012
Blacks on white TV - with illustration by Mpumelelo August
The incredibly talented Mpumelelo August's work |
I am prone to cynicism about
almost everything (including issues of race), thinking about the harsh realities some
have to deal with often leaves me unpleasant taste in my mouth and psyche. So, I’ve
really been trying to look on the bright side. I try to acknowledge how much
more Black folk have to practice their crafts on public platforms. This bubble
of delusion was burst when I saw a media campaign advertising Candice Breitz’s
exhibition in which she tackles issues of being the white other in South
Africa.
To my horror, I saw that she
super-imposed pictures of herself into still-shots of the soap, Generations. I’m sure I don’t need to
introduce any of you to the vacuous mind-fuck that is Generations. Is that the
Blackness to which constructions of whiteness are juxtaposed???? That is not to
say we should be dogmatic about race, it is fluid, a social construct but a lot
of meaning has been vested in race, in the supremacy and subjugation of some, so juxtaposing race is quite stupid.
Breitz's work: image from internet |
Because of this 400 year old tale
of subjugation, television and mainstream media at large is dominated by white
folk. That is supposed to sound more diplomatic than it does, but hey, it’s not
a big spoon. It’ll be very difficult for someone to contest that statement but
I welcome the challenge. Speaking as a person who has lived south of the Sahara
my entire life, I am not claiming that this is the case world over but I’d like
to think I speak with some authority. Although I grew up surrounded by Black
faces and ZBC tried with all their might to interest us in Gringo and Studio 263
just as SABC did with Velaphi and Bophelo ke Sempego amongst others, I was
more drawn to Beverly Hills 90210 and
21 Jump Street, I was fortunate however to grow up in the glory days of Black
comedy, the early 1990s where Fresh
Prince of Bel-Air and the Cosby Show (Denise
Huxtable is one of my biggest style inspirations) provided alternative images
and archetypes of Blackness.
Denise Huxtable - image from the web |
Fast forward a decade plus later
and the situation has changed and remained similar, Anglo-Saxon ideals and
images are now projected, alongside other fleeting trends, at an exponential rate thanks to
twitter/tumblr/Friendster/the list goes on. Black comedy is mostly a bunch of
cheap laughs and playing to every stereotype you can name. This is not to say
there isn’t some great content whatever the orientation, we are more similar
than we are alike right? However, hardly ever do we question what images of
Blackness are portrayed on the stupid box and what those images mean for us and
our children.
The sad truth, folks, is that Generations really has come to represent
to many people, what Blackness is or at least should be in some people’s South
Africa. Swathed in layers of highly flammable satin, layers of hair extension
piled on in the suffocating heat and feet squeezed into towering stilettos –
that is the average Generations
character. Add to this Tyler Perry style stereotypes of Black women as hostile
and in the eternal pursuit for male approval and we have a certified recipe for
disaster. We are teaching our children that to be is to consume conspicuously
and that one must subscribe to one ideal type of beauty, an active effort needs to be made by those who produce and project media images to explore the diverse identities and interests of souls in Black, White, Puerto Rican, Asian, name it skins and we as consumers need to give Generations and Tyler Perry less ratings if we have any hope of changing the status quo.
Wednesday, 18 April 2012
Zimbabwe at 32: Rambai maka shinga
When one mentions Zimbabwe, whether around dinner tables with sophisticate folk, in seminars with the scholarly or overloaded minibus taxis, images of police brutality and starving children are immediately conjured. For some, images of Mau-Mau style displacement and terror come up, 'innocent' farmers macheted and shamboked out of their safari-style African dream. Not to mention the pistol-whipping, both literal and figurative, of propaganda into the working class's heads by state police and ruling party youths.
In these moments, amid recurring carelessly thrown about remarks about Zimbabwe's dysfunction (scathing because of their truths), I find myself awash with despondency, it is difficult to stick my neck out, to 'shinga' (be strong) as my patriarchs demand. At the height of Zimbabwe's famed political and socio-economic meltdown, chapped lips grimaced on the half hour throughout the day as battery powered, car and occasionally electrified radios and TV sets strained to blast "taane minda murambe maka shinga," meaning, "we now have land, stay strong." ZANU-PF had commissioned, probably without pay, its TV and radio broadcasters to play this skit throughout the day, it was publicized in newspapers and the occasional pamphlet, it was the ruling party's daily rhetoric. The nation was now free of 'imperial domination', free to chart its course ahead. And the conjurers of this grand plan? I often wonder, how does one sleep peacefully at night, with Operation Murambatsvina ( a systematic, dehumanizing purging of shack and informal settlement dwellers from the city of Harare to make it look pretty for some or other international envoy) on your conscience? I can not answer these questions and the people responsible for this plunder have thus far not been brought to book. What I do know is that their pillows stained, if not with worry then the lather of hair dye, desperate clasps at virile youth. To their pampered wives' chagrin, what a waste of a million thread count really. While their husbands rouse up and arm the poor, they shop up a storm. The old men straightened arthritic backs, lifted their canes and over knobby noses, peered through spectacles pointed at the future.
As jubilant village women gyrated to the militaristic beat of land acquisition, drenched in copious amounts of the blood of our forefathers, don't you forget, the septuagenarians continued to stack their riches. Zimbabwe's globally desirable workforce, products of a formidable 82 % literacy rate, starved and hustled into economic exile. Imagine, the generation that read and passed down Dambudzo Marechera, took cheesy pictures next to Harare gardens' abundant bourganvilliea and competed fiercely in education now waits tables and lives at the mercy of iron-fisted immigration departments and hostile local citizenry. Many people are returning home, some are farming, stepping up to the demands of rebuilding the economy but there are many cracks in the wall, a consumption driven economy is steadily being built on the ruins. Does it have any roots if our history hasn't been questioned, re-written, if we don't have any faith in our own capabilities.
My Zimbabwe is not in the cataract eye of some old man.
it is not blood drenched land
but rather that which feeds.
It's a tiny mulberry stained hand
the progressively sown seeds
of a questioning mind pursuing knowledge.
I refuse to remember the urge
to spit in a smug officer's face
but rather, David Whitehead lace
warm Pork-pies and chilly Cascades
as i watch the blue and white escapades
of clouds gathered in the Limpopo
and scattered into the Zambezi
My Zimbabwe is not bone, skeletal
it's wrought iron and granite sculpture
Undulating hills of green, eerie mountains
which rise and fall like fountains
of rhythm, Chimurenga songs
the place for which my heart longs
leaves my feet dusty with its soil
rooted to earth
my senses awakened
from sole to soul
a grand departure from the cataract eye of some old man.
Undulating hills of green, eerie mountains
which rise and fall like fountains
of rhythm, Chimurenga songs
the place for which my heart longs
leaves my feet dusty with its soil
rooted to earth
my senses awakened
from sole to soul
a grand departure from the cataract eye of some old man.
Rambai makashinga - the rhetoric continues doesn't it
This video takes me back to very dark days, the legacy of the past decade plus is engraved in our hearts and minds. Dzimba dzamabwe do not crumble, they are only shaken
Saturday, 14 April 2012
Nubi-a-sthete: Zola Chalufu
Meet the beautiful Nokuzola Chalufu. I asked the 20 something year old to tell me about her hair-scapades and style inspiration. Dig in...
"I'm a dreamer, a lover of
the arts, collect all things bright and beautiful, love people who make me
laugh until my tummy hurts, enjoy listening to peoples stories, love taking
random pics, lover of reading, lover of eating and coming up with new recipes, music
is the air I breath and my soul mate whom I occasionally cheat on with clothes. I love ugly looking shoes and making them
look good hahaha, parks and picnics make me happy, love travelling.
I have fallen in love with Africa and respect people who take pride in
who they are
Some
of the things I love in captured moments:
photo moments |
laughter |
chilling with friends |
the beach |
music and fringe singles |
box braids |
fro-licious |
red vintage blues |
bald |
|
i recently dyed my hair |
Friday, 13 April 2012
Nubi-a-sthete: Pam Grier aka the OG Foxy Brown
Famous for her portrayals of bad ass women in blaxploitation films, Pam Grier circa 1970s is arguably my ultimate hair icon (wig or not), and not just because i have a penchant for guns and taught abs. I'm really considering investing in a wig looking at these pics, some major dress up will be in order.
Wednesday, 11 April 2012
Nubi-a-sthete: Marsha Hunt
Tuesday, 10 April 2012
nubi-a-sthete: Shingai Shoniwa
This style powerhouse was born in Zim (represent!). She's the lead singer and bass guitarist of The Noisettes, not only is she dripping swag goo, her hair is just on some other shit. A little inspiration for all my natural stylistas
Monday, 9 April 2012
Saturday, 7 April 2012
Outfit post: pre-Autumn picnic
Bidding farewell to an eventful summer, a few friends and I headed out to enjoy the lush green and birdsong. I took the opportunity to bear some midriff while I can. Fresh cornrows ( a little beading), a sari top and Indian cotton gypsy-style skirt.
Friday, 6 April 2012
Body no be wood: we say no to colds n flu naturally
Winter is around the corner, and as seasons change our bodies take strain and act out. Colds and flus are the most common signs that our immune systems are taking a beating. So beat the sniffles and dose up on Vitamin C. You can get yours in potent doses in grapefruit, oranges, lemons, kiwi fruit and believe it or not, tomatoes. All that colorful stuff. Fruit juice, smoothies, sliced into cereal &/ yogurt, in salads, as stuffing/sauce if you eat meat, baked with muffins/bread...just juice up! Add to the mix honey (in tea with lemon slices or to sweeten cereal, even on toast) and ginger and your immune system can thank me later.
Jean Depara's Kinshasa 1951 - 1975
Thursday, 5 April 2012
Health and Hair-scapades - the grow out challenge
The state of one's hair and skin is often (but not always) an indicator of what's happening in the body and mind. I have notoriously problematic skin and have tried too many products to mention. My hair was also showing some strain so I did a mini-chop and revised my health habits. Exercise, at least 2L water a day and eating as close to earth as I can = happy naps. Spot control is steadily en route
Tuesday, 3 April 2012
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