The problem with obedience

“Ubuntu” is a big word around here. Everyone is always complaining about how nobody abides by Ubuntu anymore and thus, South Africa is going down into the pits. I’m trying to think of the easiest way to explain Ubuntu, but I’ve come across many different definitions. At first I thought it was a pretty cool concept when I was first introduced to Ubuntu; I was told that it was about culture/tradition, unity, courtesy and respect, among other terms. I was like, hot damn. Now this is a cool word. In English we don’t have such a word that can bring all these terms into one concise concept: Ubuntu. I think the group that I trained with was all so excited with this term that we even put it on our group shirts. Ubuntu: I am because you are. Ahh, cue the sentimental music.

However, as I struggled through training and now at my site, I’m learning that this idealistic definition isn’t really what Ubuntu is about. It’s about obedience and at times, ignorance. I remember thinking when I first heard this “new” definition was at a Ndebele tribal meeting/church gathering thing that my training group was sent to in order to meet the Ndebele king. It was an outside gathering of about 150 people. The women and men sat divided and some women sat on mats. Some men had cane like sticks and women were supposed to cover their heads with scarves or hats. And, the men sat under the good tree.

After the “ceremony,” which turned out to be nothing more than a queue of people individually going up to the mic and saying how many people from their area were going to attend this big Ndebele celebration in the next couple of weeks, we were put into a circle and was told that we would get to ask the Ndebele prince (the king never showed up) questions. So, we asked. I don’t remember what question was, but the prince answered at one point that Ubuntu was about tradition, obedience and not asking any questions. He was worried about the children and teenagers not following along with the Ndebele traditions and instead falling prey to Western ways.

Alas, I thought, this explains a lot. It explains why the women never questioned the fact that they were not to sit on chairs for so many years and only given mats. It explains why women have no rights when it comes to her husband, or basically anything. Being a woman from America, if something doesn’t make sense to me, I ask why. In South Africa, a woman quietly accepts and moves on.

The examples are all over South Africa. One doesn’t have to look hard to see that this definition of Ubuntu stands firm. Perhaps some may say that I’m selling the concept short and perhaps this “don’t question, just accept” philosophy isn’t Ubuntu at all, but instead just tradition. Plain and simple.

It makes me wonder if this is the reason why HIV is rampant in South Africa. The principal at the middle school that I was prisoner to today told me that many women know that their husbands aren’t coming home at night to sleep with them and they say nothing to their husbands. If you ignore it, it’s not a problem right? I was shocked. If my husband didn’t come home one night and he wasn’t freakin’ Santa Claus, I would for sure ask that little (insert bad word here) where he was. When I say this, in a PG way, to her, she laughs at me and says, “Oh Dineo, you can’t tell an African man what to do. It’s different.” I’m like, wait. So this is why only 6% percent of relationships are faithful in South Africa (a statistic I read about in a national SA magazine)? Is this why over 20% of adults are projected to have HIV? Freakin’ Ubuntu? Because a woman isn’t supposed to ask questions? Because it’s always been that way? Because a woman doesn’t know what she’d do without her husband? Because her father cheated on her mother and therefore it’s acceptable for her husband to cheat on her?

Excuse me, but fuck that.

I try really hard to remember that the people I meet here have not had the kind of education that I was lucky to have and have lived in a very different environment than I. I get it. I’m lucky. God bless America. But what am I supposed to do in these situations? Accept that this is just how it is and allow South Africa to continue? Until what? When is it going to be time to let “tradition” go and just accept that things are going to have to change?

I try to explain to her the theory of how promiscuity, especially in South Africa, has led to the spread of HIV. I say it in simple terms so she can understand and go on to brainstorm with her ideas why teenagers are still spreading the disease despite all the “good” information out there. She says the kids are so naughty. They have too much “attitude” and it’s hard to teach them. She motions to the noise in one of the classrooms and says, “See? They won’t just listen. They always have questions and are always talking to you about something. I just want them to be quiet and let me teach them.” Yes, the principal said this to me. So, I say, “So? Shouldn’t they have questions? Shouldn’t you want them to throw ideas off of you so you can help them process things better?” And she says she just can’t handle the new methods that the province is trying to make them use to teach the students. So then she tells me about the “road system” of teaching. It goes something like this:

To start a vegetable garden you need to first put the seeds in the ground. Wait for it to rain or water them. Then pick the vegetables.

So she explains this to me and though I don’t know (or because I don’t know) a lot about gardening I wonder how useful this information will be to me if I were to start a garden of my own. How do you know if the vegetables are ready? What about bugs? What time of the year do you plant different vegetables? Surely, if taught this way, students will have questions. But, in this method of teaching, there aren’t questions. It is what it is. I will tell you this, and you will take it and be happy that I have taught it to you because I am your teacher and you will respect me. Ok? And this is where all the students will say, in unison, “Yesssss, Ma’am.”

But that’s the way it works. I will tell you the way and you will follow it and that’ll be the way you get there. Like a road. Hence the name, “road system.” She says it’s the best way to teach, the only way she ever taught whilst a teacher. Oh, I pity her students.

So she takes me around to all the classes to introduce me to the students. Before we walk into a classroom, she tells me that we’re about to enter a classroom with the “naughtiest” children. When we walk in, all the students stand and greet her, “Helllllo, Missssss. How are you?” And she says, “Good, how are you?” And they say, “I’m good. How are you?” Which makes no sense, but I laugh and she reprimands them for not addressing me directly. So they do it again, “Hellloooo Missss Mashaba (my African last name) How are you?” And on it goes. I figure with them saying, “How are you” at the end, I could turn this into a fun game (for my own amusement because they obviously don’t quite understand), but decide to let it drop with a slight giggle.

After they sit, she tells me that these are the ninth graders and that there are the naughtiest class at the school. I say, “Wow, the naughtiest? That’s quite an honor. Did you guys get a plaque?” And they stare at me. Tough crowd. She says something about them not being ready for high school because they don’t know enough. The kids continue to stare at her with no word. We leave and continue to the next classes and it’s all the same. Have you ever seen that Pink Floyd music video for Another Brick in the Wall? The one where all the kids are put through a little machine and all come out the same on the other side of the conveyor belt. Alas, this is the perfect example of South Africa.

All in all you’re just another brick in the wall.
All in all you’re just another brick in the wall.

And that’s all it is. You’re an obedient child worthy of teaching, or you’re a naughty child. It’s not easier to be categorized either way. If you’re deemed good (aka obedient) you become a servant to the teachers. Today a teacher I was sitting with needed a cup to make some tea. She yells for a student to come from across the yard to get her a cup that was sitting on a table across the room from her. A total distance there and back of maybe 6 yards.

It’s almost disgusting how these children are used. I would wonder why they don’t say “No, fat (insert bad word here). Get it yourself.” But then I remember Ubuntu-taught obedience and it makes sense. It’s the cruelest caste system I’ve ever experienced. So I don’t wonder why the kids at my special school always beat up on the blind kid. If the men control the women and the women control the children and the children control the special kids then the special kids control the….blind kid? And perhaps if the blind kid could, he would be kicking the chickens around.

Teachers leave them kids alone
Hey! Teachers! Leave them kids alone!
All in all it's just another brick in the wall.
All in all you're just another brick in the wall.

"Wrong, Do it again!"
"If you don't eat yer meat, you can't have any pudding. How can you
have any pudding if you don't eat yer meat?"
"You! Yes, you behind the bike sheds, stand still laddy!"