Now that Mandela is gone, we need to talk

The passing of Nelson Mandela has found the country without the iconic leader that served as the glue that held the fragile, fragmented pieces of this rainbow nation together. His death had the world mourning but also nursing a somewhat morbid curiosity as to what will happen now. It has the people asking: “Did reconciliation really stick?”

The rhetoric, officially, is that the diverse have come together to make the nation stronger. The unofficial mumblings are that people are pretty much still terrified of each other. And what will they do now that they don’t have a good dose of the “Madiba Magic” pacifying them? White friends told me of the fears of those within their social circles and how they spent the last few months convinced that bloodshed was around the corner as Tata’s health continued to decline. Black people are a little unnerved by a special school that has been set up to teach young Afrikaans lads the “old ways” as well as a few new military tactics.

Everyone was terrified. White people were scared of black people, poor people were scared of rich people, foreign nationals were petrified of locals. Everyone was scared that the other would simply “let loose” because no one knew what the other group was thinking.

So now that the symbol of reconciliation has passed on, having done all he could do, new ways of trying to come together are necessary. One small group of people should be ready to carry the mantle.

The “tokens”.

The ones who allow the real conversations to happen, conversations that need to happen to curb fear and in turn the fractures.

In some instances being “the one and only in a group” can be quite fun. For one you get to feel like Jesus, Buddha, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Oprah all rolled in one. You are the source of all knowledge on a certain topic relating to a certain type of people.

It can at times be a frustrating reality but one that is very useful to society. Having lived in various places around the world I have witnessed interesting conversations that have led to powerful “myth-busting moments”.

“So you’re from Africa. Does that mean you have a lion instead of a cat?”

“I know my relationship, super tame, but tell me, tell me about same-sex ones. Are they wild?”

“Christians really enjoy the holidays. Do Muslims feel sad/jealous at Christmas?”

“Do you ever wonder what blue looks like? I would explain but…”

By virtue of being “the only source of information”, you are seen as having a wealth of knowledge akin to a mystic sitting on a lone hill, encompassing the lived experience of all those who fall under a label.

You become the platform on which people project their questions and queries, their fears and prejudices, their social morals and values. Your life becomes a case study for the social experiments that people conduct, a human “guinea pig” in a sense. Every story about black people/gay people/circus folk is directed at and saved for you as you are able to relate. Even the smallest of stories. And do not to get me wrong, the stories are appreciated and show that someone is trying to engage with a part of your identity they identify as important but mostly they serve as a reminder of the role you play in the group. You are the one and only of your kind.

In order to remedy this most people tend to gravitate towards groups that better fit their identities. Human nature is such that people gravitate to those they create a particular collective identity with — “square pegs into square holes” in a sense. This is how communities are created and people are able to submerge themselves in the safe spaces of their sub-cultures.

It is a tempting, albeit stifling, solution. You can crawl into the warmth of the group and wrap yourself in shared notions of right and wrong, up and down, black and white and all the grey in between. The problem with manoeuvring within closed circles is that important conversations do not get to happen. Conversations that serve to break down prejudices and misconceptions do not occur. These are conversations that show that we are actually not that different and what is different really does not matter.

That social cohesion should be more of a mole hill than a mountain.

A few conversations between an Afrikaner and a black person and you realise you are essentially the same: traditional, patriarchal and have love for a good hearty meal. You understand that family is all-important (and all-imposing) and know that respect for “our ways” is key. If a Christian and a Muslim person were to sit down they would realise they have far more in common than just the Old Testament. And as for gay relationships, all the same ups and downs, make-ups and break-ups, ins and outs and matching towels that straight ones have. This idea applies to many dichotomies, if people would just have the conversations. Ask the silly questions and learn from the answers.

So for all those who stand within a group being the “token”, know that you serve a very special social purpose. You are potentially the social glue that could hold our fragile world together because you let those conversations legitimately happen. So let the silliness come thick and fast because eventually it will run out and be replaced by wisdom and understanding.

The idea is one that comes across as very cuddly and smelling of rainbows but it really does speak to an age-old idea, ignorance breeds fear. People are scared of the things they do not understand, the proverbial monsters under the bed that seek to destroy all we hold dear. Our differences seem like those monsters but a quick look will show us there are no monsters there, or at least they are teeny tiny. It’s time to tackle the reality of the situation now that we are sharply faced with it. The father of the nation is gone and the kids are home alone. Time to figure out how to really get along or the house will crumble.