'Let the poor cover their own asses'

By Zukiswa Mqolomba

Our inability to reach national consensus on questions pertaining the dignity of the poor raises very serious questions about the trajectory of South Africa’s moral economy. One wonders about the fleeting pipedream of “non-racism … and prosperity for all”, whether it even constitutes what I once believed to be the South African dream.

The toilet saga reveals many things about the character of national discourse, painting a bleak picture of South Africa’s future prospects.

This article is not about the party politics of the Khayelitsha toilet saga. Neither is it anti-DA propaganda nor a shallow attempt at political assassination, whether deserved or undeserved. It is about that which is exposed in the saga narratives: the story of a budding nation waiting to implode at the deadly grasp of racial polarisation, exacerbated by the invisible hand of a leadership vacuum beyond comprehension.

On the one hand, the saga says much about the premium spaces given to freedoms of expression and ideological contestation. South Africans continue to enjoy space to express even the most backward of views without the threat(s) of social censorship: a programmatic expression of the varied views that constitute the different colours of the rainbow nation we boast about. On the other hand, however, it reveals much about the hegemonic spaces enjoyed by anti-poor sentiments demonstrated by our inability to coalesce around a national programme in defence of our most vulnerable in society.

The views that endorse the decision to force poor inhabitants to choose between quantity versus quality of sanitary provision rises in resonance even at a time when local government should pursue these as twin objectives. The City of Cape Town is a formidable economic hub. Erecting quality toilets for the poor should be an outcome of political priority, particularly in the face of damning service delivery in the metro’s outskirts.

The arrogance that holds that poor citizens should “cover their own asses for a change” and “shit in open air until they can” scares me. It speaks volumes about a nation grown cold: indifferent to the dignity and struggles of those less fortunate.

In light of this, one wonders whether political consensus would have been possible at all had it not been for youth activism and a high court obliging the erection of new sheltered toilets. Most importantly, one wonders how it was even socially acceptable to contest even the basic right to quality sanitation, particularly amid calls to improve the well-being of the poor. Can we really call ourselves a nation that is pro the poor or are we paying lip service in a bid to accrue political votes?

What is evident is that South Africa as a society continues to pull in different directions, unwilling to lobby behind a national programme premised on noteworthy ideals. We continue to prize the right to political contestation over and above the needs and the interests of the poor we claim to represent. The pro-poor offensive serves merely as political rhetoric to abase the votes of the poor and does very little to shape national efforts towards concrete efforts to deal with rising insecurity, risk and vulnerability as and when it is exposed.

Can South Africans truly speak of the “South African” Dream as the Americans unapologetically coalesce around theirs, despite the odds, of the American Dream?

What are these shared ideals that we often speak about? Is it the carnivorous habits of braaing and boerewors festivals on national Heritage Day, the love of soccer and rugby, or the comical pretences of happy family for the sake of political correctness?

Are South Africans truly committed to non-racism or are they using non-racism as a weapon of resistance to meaningful efforts of transformation and rights-based social redress?

I ask these many questions because I am not truly convinced that South Africa has come to terms with its past, particularly bearing in mind that the old patterns of social relations persist today with very little changing social attitudes about race and class, despite legislative interventions to transform a shaky past.

Mine is an urgent plea for an all-inclusive national indaba, a post-TRC assessment of race and class relations in post-democratic South Africa. We need to ask the tough questions. We need to hear the stories of inconvenient truths. South Africa needs leadership in this regard. And the silence and inaction of the African National Congress in this regard is sadly deafening.

The more things change, the more things stay the same. And if the measure of any great society lies in its political will to defend its most vulnerable and defenceless, I shudder to think of the winning prospects of the new South Africa we continue to be unwilling to build.

Until we match ours with meaningful social attitudes and formidable action, then our quest for a new reality will remain a pipedream wasting in the wake of simmering civil unrest.

A pro-poor dispensation seems the perfect starting ground: wherein a nation transforms its past liabilities into national assets to build a cohesive nation.

Zukiswa is doing her second masters at the University of Sussex. She recently completed her master’s degree in social sciences at the University of Cape Town where she served as SRC president. She aspires to be a scholar activist.