For a nation that has so vehemently cast off the shackles of colonialism, we South Africans have done a bloody good job of opting for that ridiculous British anachronism — the double-barrelled surname.
It’s even stranger that this rather pompous trait seems to be confined almost exclusively to high-powered female members of the ruling party. Winnie Madikizela-Mandela, Manto Tshabalala-Msimang, Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma, Geraldine Fraser-Moleketi, Dr Ivy Matsepe-Casaburri, Wilma Susan Newhoudt-Druchen, lady spy-boss Nozuko Silvia Temperance “Girly” Majola-Pikoli, Tina Joemat-Pettersson, Fatima Ismail Chohan-Khota, Dr Mmapusetso Manana Bakane-Tuoane, Hendrietta Bogopane-Zulu, Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka and Mandu Mildred Ramakaba-Lesiea are just some who have elected to burden themselves with multiple monikers.
The DA’s Dianne Kohler Barnard is halfway there, although her party’s website doesn’t use the hyphen. Interestingly, the ANC does when referring to her, so maybe it’s a matter of habit for them.
Some double-barrel fans have been known to recant. Anneline Kriel used to tack the names of her various husbands on to her own, and Hillary Clinton for years tucked a “Rodham” between her Christian and surnames, but both women appear to have since decided the habit was more schlep than it was worth.
Why do these people do this, in the 21st century? Is it just because they are politicians and want to make full use of every family connection they have? Is it pure Sixties feminism, causing them to cling to their maiden names as well as those of their husbands? If so, why doesn’t everybody else do it? Or do the political types wear the names of the elite like badges of rank, reluctant to shed them in case they disappear into the faceless mass of nobodies that flows around them? Perhaps they just watched too much of Felicia Mabuza-Suttle when they came out of exile?
Whatever the reasons, the tactic seems to have worked, although nobody except politicians and the odd TV host — Felicia and Shaleen Surtie-Richards spring easiest to mind — nowadays lumber themselves with the burden of spelling out their names over and over to confused bank clerks. Oh — except Amy. Mrs Amelia Hope “Amy” Kleynhans-Curd had me going for a while until I realised that she was the delectable 1992 Miss South Africa, who would be just as lovely if she called herself Noddy or Big Ears.
Looking at the career successes enjoyed by those who have chosen to lug the excess baggage of two surnames around wherever they go started me thinking that I could also possibly benefit from a quick doubling-up of my surname. I mean, Gavin Foster just sounds too pale-maleish to earn me any brownie points in the new South Africa, where being “currently disadvantaged” gets you no sympathy at all. I need a moniker that’ll muddy the waters a little in regard to both my colour and my gender, and if it all works out as I’d like it to, I can switch to politics as a career. If two work well, three should be even better — watch out for Ms Gavine Dlamini-Zumandela-Foster in the Cabinet when Jacob moves into the big office!