A Madam President for South Africa?
*Rhulumente means government in Xhosa.
The last time I was led by a woman head of state I was a little girl in the Transkei. The Transkei Radio station would blast “uRhulumente said this” and “uRhulumente did that.” I had not developed hatred for much yet but I knew that I abhorred Rhulumente. Why were the adults allowing him to bully them over the radio? Why weren’t they confronting him? Where did he live? Why was he so mean? “Who is Rhulumente, Makhulu?” I would disrupt the woman who gave the sun its warmth, the sky its happy blue colour and the author of love, my grandmother MaRhadebe as she listens to the news in horror. My questions made her eyes shine. There could be no brighter child in all the world. She had no answers for any of my questions and that to her was the hallmark of my brilliance. The ominous mystery of Rhulumente led me to believe that perhaps I would oneday find uRhulumente and make him answer since everyone is so afraid. I did not know that that particular Rhulumente was in fact busy falling even as I was interrogating my grandmother whose skin was black and radiant with love. I ended up with another Rhulumente when I grew up. In those days still, there was one outstanding day for Rhulumente.
“For how long did Stella Sigcawu rule the Transkei?” Miss Ndzamela with her yellowish skin, tiny dramatic waist, high heels, and a round bouncy bottom paraded before the class with her stick like a drum majorette. The stick was not a threat because after her question — her face was gleeful. She swung her stick to the board to point at the glorious number we must all remember. “83 days!” “Yho, eyititree!” We joined in her thrill. We had no idea how many days or years anyone ruled before her or what the rules of governance were or why it ended so soon. She mentioned it but it was not the point. The point was that we had been ruled by Stella Sigcawu for 83 days and we better be proud. She did not tell us to be proud — we instantly were. There was no need for her to tell us that she was a woman. A Stella was a woman. I did wonder what sort of horrible man would remove our Stella so soon using the violence of an army?
I do not remember anything else that Miss Ndzamela taught us. I remember her happiness when she announced the victory of Stella’s 83 day rule. On the same year before I briefly ended up in Miss Ndzamela’s class in Dutyini JSSS, I had made a brief appearance in a school in the Ciskei, Mdantsane. I was a new child. I made the mistake of telling the teacher that I was from the Transkei. Her face beamed each time she asked me a question, “Holomisa, what is the answer?” My name was Holomisa. I figured at that moment that he might be the leader of the Transkei. I did not last very long in the township school because being Holomisa, among many pressures of the township, were too much for my little shoulders to carry. I later learnt that Holomisa had sent his soldiers to beat up schoolteachers who were on strike. This time it was my mother who exclaimed because my grandmother had passed away and the warmth of the sun left with her. By this time, Rhulumente was slowly revealing his face and could be named. I had many governments to deal with in my young life, crossing borders between the Transkei homeland andCiskei homeland under apartheid-South Africa but only Stella was my favourite for no other reason than that she was Stella and had ruled until an army removed her.
I ran to the Pick ‘n Pay in Mdantsane and bought myself a physical copy of the Mail & Guardian last week because of the visionary cover it had of Minister Lindiwe Sisulu, with “Madam President” gloriously printed in red over her dignified image. I wished I could put it up on billboards for the little girls to see a vision of a woman president which I pray they will live to see. In my master’s thesis for political communication, I conducted a study of global newspapers and their negative coverage of Mama Winnie Madikizela-Mandela during her passing.
Naturally, I am keeping an eye on the coverage of Minister Lindiwe Sisulu. I have been appalled even by the choice of images that are used when reporting on her, including the deliberately disparaging headlines or the tone and language used to frame her. I was appalled at the amount of journalists whom I imagined would have the good sense to applaud a woman with presidential ambition but they did the opposite. The M&G came through with a dignified image, feminist approach and balanced journalism that I could scarcely believe it when I saw it. I have always known and read pieces from the guardian but this time, I researched the paper. I wanted to know who owns it, who wrote the article and what kind of editor makes such a provocatively refreshing journalistic decision in an otherwise toxic and polarised country?
We have no control over what the ANC will decide in the end. The coverage of Minister Sisulu however needs not be the historical Joan of Arc burning at the stake because a woman dared to dream of leading her country. I do not want Stella Sigcawu to be the last woman head of state in my memory. Rhulumente does not have to be run by a man. Somewhere, a Miss Ndzamela deserves to teach her class with confidence that any one of her learners could be president. If Sisulu wins, thankfully, Holomisa is too old to organise a successful coup and the children can enjoy a fierce and pretty president. Don’t worry, I have good stories of Holomisa too.
