Fallen but never forgotten

On this day in 1976 the children of Soweto set off to school with no inkling of the chain of events about to be set in motion. They had no idea that they would be forever etched in South African history.

Little did these children know that their peaceful protests around the forced introduction of Afrikaans as a medium of communication in their schools would result in a massacre.

When they congregated that morning, they could not have envisaged that many among them would never return home. Nor could they have known that South Africa’s long sought democracy would come following a blood bath or indeed that it would be their blood that was spilled.

The Soweto uprising is best described as biblical…David versus the Apartheid Goliath.

For the Apartheid Government it was the unravelling of their minority rule, which was a long and painful throwback to the days of colonialism.

It is estimated that nearly 20,000 students gathered that day.

Their rally got the attention of the South African Police Force. Without provocation the police opened fire on the unarmed students. Chaos and panic ensued. Fearful children scrambled, hurling stones as their sole means of defence.

Stones versus bullets…these kids never stood a chance.

The shooting of children should’ve been unconscionable. Sadly, the South African Government and its band of puppet police took sadistic pleasure in the dehumanisation and marginalisation of black people. In their eyes black was black and the age of the protestors had no bearing on the level of their response.

On June 16th the press played a pivotal role in shining a light on the plight of black South Africans. The grainy image of 12-year-old Hector Pieterson lying lifeless is gut wrenching. Sam Nzima’s harrowing photograph of Hector would go on to be circulated internationally. It was stark insight into the all too common realities of what it meant to be born black in South Africa.

And so, began those baby steps towards obliterating the misconception that black life was cheap. The slaughtering of black children was intolerable. The travesty of June 16th served to revitalise the Black Resistance Movement. This was long overdue.

Externally, the world could no longer turn a blind eye to the human rights atrocities being played out in South Africa. The application of sanctions saw the country shunned. Big players such as PepsiCo and Esso withdrew their operations. This was long before the term Corporate Social Responsibility had ever been coined.

It was the slow but steady application of both internal and external pressure that eventually saw the South African Government running scared. The economy was in danger of imploding. The apartheid regime was forced to acknowledge that their days were numbered. Grudgingly the country’s minority leadership had to set about brokering a truce or run the risk of a civil war and with it economic devastation. In that eventuality there would be no winners.

June 16th was a painful moment in history, but one that paved the way for South Africa’s democracy. It remains symbolic and is a testimony to how far the South African people have come. It also serves as a cautionary tale of the pitfalls of racially divisive policy and socio-economic inequity.

Today South Africans will be celebrating Youth Day where we pay homage to those beautiful souls whose opportunity to grow old was so brutally snatched away from them.

We remember them in the spirit of reconciliation. Through the unification of South Africa, the fallen have achieved immortality.

But, in the wake of the recent events in the US, this year’s Youth Day celebrations feel especially poignant.

Hector Pieterson became the face of the anti-apartheid campaign, but he was not the only child fatally wounded that day. The Apartheid Government confirmed that the death toll was approximately 180. But are their statistics trustworthy?

I fear not.

There are sources that suggest that the loss of life on June 16th was around 500 while others speak of it being nearer 700. The sad reality is that we will never know - So much for black life mattering.

What about the others? What about Hastings?

Hector may have been one of the first pronounced dead, but various accounts indicate that the first student wounded was 15-year-old Hastings Ndlovu. He suffered a head shot wound that left part of his brain exposed and rendered him comatose.

But Hastings had a fighting spirit. He held on to life a little longer and paid the price for it. Until recently his final moments were never documented. Hastings’ face was never splashed across newspapers, and historians had all but forgotten about him. That’s not okay.

Hastings’ life mattered, Hastings mattered.

I am fully supportive of the Black Lives Matter Movement; however, I’m devastated that its existence remains needed.

Is the world we live in really that obtuse? Have we learned nothing from 1976?

Steve Biko, Chris Hani, Hastings Ndlovu these are but a few names on a tragically long list of the fallen. Their lives all mattered.

When Nelson Mandela stood accused of treason, he faced the prospect of death by hanging. His life mattered.

Black lives mattered then; they matter today. Black lives have always mattered.

Yet this undeniable truth only comes to the fore following a tragedy, the death of George Floyd being a case in point.

I read those seemingly well intended posts, declaring that “All lives matter”. It’s probably unintentional but the reality is that this sentiment is painful, disrespectful and more than a little apathetic. It serves to pour salt on an old but very raw wound.

The prevailing question must be “Do all lives matter equally?”

How many of us would have the courage to pose this question to the bereft families of the fallen?

Grief knows no race or class or economic status, it’s inescapable.

My grandmother lost a son when he was 11. He was dragged under a moving bus and sadly died at the scene. Fast forward, delirious and taking her last breath she could be heard calling out to him. Nearly 50 years later and despite having 9 other children she died with his name on her lips. Grief has no time limit.

But is grief equal? Is it acceptable to compare my grandmother’s grief with that of Dorothy Molefi, the mother of Hector Pieterson? After all both lost sons of a similar age.

The critical difference is that Hector’s death wasn’t a freak accident. His death would have been avoidable if he had benefitted from living in a more tolerant world.

What must it have been like for Dorothy to live with the knowledge that her son’s life was snuffed out because the powers that be resented his existence? How did she feel knowing that her child’s only crime was having been born of colour?

Did this compound her grief, did it exacerbate her anguish? I hope to God I never find out.

Will there come a day when all lives are equal? I fervently hope so. But until that day comes, I implore you, please do not question why there is an emphasis on black lives mattering. That just fuels the already blazing flames of ignorance.

The world needs to heal, it needs to change, it needs to learn the lessons from the past.

While June 16th was the catalyst for change, the loss of life was unacceptable. We desperately need leadership courage to ensure that this history is never repeated.

My late father was an activist. I remember vividly his yellow shirt with the handwritten slogan “Aluta Continua.” It means “The struggle continues.”

So, leaders, what will you be doing to bring this very real struggle to an end?

What does your people strategy look like?  Is Equality, Diversity and Inclusion (EDI) a mere footnote?

Are you just tinkering around the edges or is your approach to tackling EDI decisive and aspirational?

What personal commitments will you be making to be part of positive change, bringing forward the day when all people are genuinely equal?

Or are you content to blithely sit back, sweeping EDI under the carpet, until it becomes an unavoidable trip hazard?

 As for me I commit to:

 ·      Not succumbing to the pressure to assimilate;

 ·      Finding the courage to articulate the unspoken and challenge the status quo, even if that makes me a lone voice or unpopular;

 ·      Unapologetically taking up space. If I’m going to be Marmite, then I’m going to be a super-sized jar. 

My father’s hope was that his grandchildren would benefit from democracy, however I was 14 at the time of South Africa’s first democratic election. Change came earlier than anyone could have predicted. So, most of all I commit to never forgetting the struggle and sacrifice that was made for the constitutional rights that I can now take for granted. I will always be humbled by the debt that I can never repay.

To the children of the Soweto uprising may you rest in eternal peace. You have fallen but you will never be forgotten. You are the reason that my blood will forever run green.

May God be with you. Dare I ask…Is He black?

References

Brand South Africa, Hastings: forgotten hero of 1976, https://www.brandsouthafrica.com/south-africa-fast-facts/history-facts/hastings-ndlovu-150605

TheHeritagePortal, Hectors Sister Tells The Story Still, https://www.theheritageportal.co.za/article/hectors-sister-tells-story-still