Woza Biko ... SA needs you

I am not an ardent follower or scholar of Steve Bantu Biko who died this week back in 1977 at the hands of the brutal South African security police. But I venture to ask … what would he feel, what would he do in present day South Africa were he alive? Many people dare say he is quite pleased wherever he is because suddenly even those that sought to demonise his philosophy a mere thirty years ago are today ardent proponents of black consciousness. Even though many of us still battle with grasping how such a consciousness is not at all contradictory to the building of a non-racial society. He should have been pleased when upon the adoption of this country’s Constitution for which he was maimed — a man of no less a stature than the then deputy president of our republic declared that: “None dare challenge me when I say, I am an African.” Indeed he would have celebrated the launch of that which celebrated no less than his philosophy, the African renaissance.

He would be pleased to see the nation engaging in an important debate about race consciousness, a debate that has been suppressed for many years with the hope that it will disappear. He would be so pleased because of his ardent belief that black people should not be ashamed but be proud to be black. He would be elated to see the existence of organisations such as the Black Management Forum and the Black Lawyers Association — organisations that did not rush to disband out of the excitement of 1994 understanding his often quoted saying: “Black man you are on your own.” He would be sad to see Azapo tethering on the brink of political obliteration, sad to see the divisions in organisations such as the PAC and therefore sad to see their failure over the years to put black consciousness on the agenda of public discourse and be credible carriers of the message he died for.

He would be saddened by the long road we still need to travel as black people to embrace our heritage and values. He would be shocked by the crass materialism that has overtaken our self-worth. He would be appalled to see how we now define ourselves according to the size of our bank accounts or the size of the engine of the car we drive and the address where we live or even the number of women to whom we can be suitors. He would be embarrassed by how we look down on indigenous knowledge systems, traditional ethos and practices confining these to the bucket of backwardness. He would bemoan the state of our languages those that have become worse off even after the dawn of our freedom. Those that our children cannot speak or understand.

Having argued vociferously for the economic emancipation he would shudder to experience the growing gap between the rich and poor where the rich are gleefully getting richer and the poor getting worse of than before. He would frown at the failure of policies meant to empower black people such as affirmative action and black economic empowerment and how these have so far achieved the opposite of their noble intentions, generating nepotism and cronyism that is ripping our body politic apart and frustrating our people.

If you undertook a serious study of his works such as I write what I like you would agree with me that he would be depressed at the pathetic state of our public discourse dictated to by patronage and political correctness instead of profound and robust intellectual debate on issues of national concern. He would be terribly ashamed of the new “thought police” who sometimes even in his silent name try and determine who is worthy to express what views in our deteriorating state of intellectual being as a nation.

More than being concerned about those that have seen better days, he would be concerned about the young people of our land. While he would bemoan the uninspiring youth leaders of our time, he would spend time campaigning to do something about the parlous state of our education which produces so few who can cope with higher education. The hopeless state of our basic education would worry him greatly. He is the kind that would shed a tear over the fact that there are kids who are still being taught under trees and that close to eighty percent of our schools are without libraries, school halls or laboratories. He would wonder like most of us do how on earth we are preparing our young people to prepare to take over the economy of this land and place South Africa on the world map to compete with other nations.

Talking about education still, he would be aghast at the latter-day academics who litter the higher education corridors today, academics who prefer to be silent in the face of the dearth of intellectual discourse and the missing decent African perspective in so many national debates that are raging in our land and our world today. Biko was a prophet of his time and saw the world with a perspective second to none. He would be agitated by the state of governance in the world especially in our continent and would have some harsh words for despots such as Robert Mugabe who disgrace us all. Not that he would spare the colonialists who have plundered Africa and are now nowhere to be found at the time of reconstruction.

I am no ardent follower of his. When he died I was in grade one. But God knows I would have loved to see how the 60-year-old Biko would have shaped our body politic in the face of so much complacency, materialism and globalisation. One thing is for sure , he would have still been in a class of his own lighting up the sky of our intellectual stage with profound and original articulation pandering to no patronage, deferring to no powers that be and walking a lonely path of principle.

Our country needs so many like Biko. If I had the power to resurrect him from the dead I would say … Woza Biko … for South Africa needs you so.