Generational Dehumanisation

Generations of systemic dehumanisation during colonialism and apartheid continue to profoundly impact the behaviours, psychological well-being, and social dynamics of Black South Africans today. While South Africa transitioned to democracy more than three decades ago, sociologists, psychologists, and historians emphasise that the legacy of treating Black citizens as "sub-human" left deep, intergenerational scars.

Apartheid was a system maintained through state-sanctioned physical and psychological violence. When communities are stripped of basic human rights, dignity, and economic mobility over generations, violence can become normalised as a survival or coping mechanism. In modern townships (dikas), generational dehumanisation and a lack of economic opportunities directly feed into youth vulnerability to gang violence and crime.

A tragic behavioural byproduct of long-term oppression is horizontal violence—where marginalised groups direct their frustration towards other marginalised groups rather than the structures that oppressed them. In South Africa, this manifests as xenophobia and "black-on-black racism". Dehumanising language once used by white authorities is sometimes repurposed against migrants from other African countries, who are scapegoated for persistent socioeconomic struggles like unemployment.

East African drought, the 'worst in 60 years'

A drought developing across the Horn of Africa is now the worst in 60 years - affecting 10 million people, according to the United Nations.

I don't know if the governments of the people in the affected countries are as interested in this serious issue, as are the foreign aid agencies. There is the suggestion in some quarters, that the drought is a direct consequence of the world's changing climate, a situation for which the Africans who now are suffering the most, bear the least responsibility.

See here for more

Poverty as entertainment?

This post is a direct response to Rasna Warah's post in Kenya's Daily Nation newspaper of 20 March 2011. I came across it here where it was reposted.

I watched Famous, Rich and in the Slums (here on YouTube) when it was aired in Britain by the BBC recently and my consternation at the issues featured was directed neither at the makers of the documentary, nor at those who participated in it. My anger, instead, was directed at the authorities in Kenya, who seem to be clueless as to their responsibility towards the country's citizens and in particular, the inhabitants of Kibera, a slum area in the country's capital city. Lest I incur the angst of my readers, I make haste at this point to clarify that this is not intended as an onslaught on the aptitude of the Kenyan government singly, since such failure is characteristic of the majority of the governments of Africa.

The author in the Daily Nation opined:

"There are dozens, if not hundreds, of charities operating in Kibera and other slums like it, with few significant results to show for their efforts. 

There may be slightly more sanitation facilities in the slums now, but the living conditions have become only slightly less appalling - they have not improved dramatically. And the slum continues to grow."

And I ask, in all of this where are the Kenyan authorities? What function does the municipal authority in Nairobi perform when a sizeable segment of the city's population are forced to live in such squalid conditions? The author in the Daily Nation was critical of the NGOs that operate in the slum and seemed unhappy about what was referred to as "slum tourism", but I beg to differ.

It's puzzling that we do nothing about a problem and then think that we are justified in criticising the foreigners who make an effort to tackle our problem, one which we have previously ignored. Why do we become angered when westerners point at our festering sores that we have pretended did not exist? Most annoying for me is the fact that Raila Odinga, Kenya's Prime Minister, holds the parliamentary seat for Langata Constituency, which covers much of the Kibera slum.

My take on this is that it was never the intention of the makers of and participants in this documentary, (participants who in any event, include a considerable number of Kibera residents themselves), merely to provide entertainment for the film's viewers. What the film did for me was to vividly highlight the failure by another of Africa's governments to take an interest in, and responsibility for the welfare of those whom they govern. The situation is the same in much of Africa and I have written about the same thing in relation to Nigeria previously on this blog.