at the BTA Anglo Platinum Short Story Competition
4 October 2007
Master of proceedings
Ms Beulah Thumbadoo and Reading Activists from BTA
Representatives of Anglo Platinum
Entrants of the Short Story competition
Ladies and gentlemen
Reading and writing short stories has always captured my imagination. One
short story of mine was published in Staffrider (1996) entitled "poisoned
water". The story starts with a journey of returnees from exile and ends with
these lines by Mxolisi: "I remember the many times we came back into the
country. Our people went out of their way to pamper us with good food. They
bought us clothes, gave us money and protected us from the enemy. We swam in
them, like fish do in clean water. Now it seems the water is poisoned."
Ladies and gentlemen, the question raised in 'poisoned water' is related to
what is happening today; to the questions raised by both Steve Biko and Frantz
Fanon about the effects of capitalism and colonial power.
In The Wretched of the Earth, in a chapter aptly entitled: 'The pitfalls of
national consciousness', Fanon says this about our youth.
Normally, there is a certain homogeneity between the mental and material
level of the members of any given society and the pleasures which that society
create for itself. But in under-developed countries, young people have at their
disposal leisure occupations designed for the youth of capitalist countries:
detective novels, penny-in-the slot machines, sexy photographs, pornographic
literature, films banned for those under sixteen, and above all alcohol.
In his works, Fanon speaks to a national consciousness. In the same vein,
Steve Bantu Biko was part of a politically and socially conscious group who,
together, conceptualised various ideas of national significance.
Writing about culture in 1971, Biko also notes that, "Somehow Africans are
not expected to have any deep understanding of their own culture or even of
themselves. Other people have become authorities on all aspects of the African
life"
Many modern African philosophers, such as Fanon, Ngugi wa Th'iongo, Biko,
etc., are in agreement that native writers have undergone a mental
decolonisation process, which began with a propensity to imitate the foreign
culture, through a journey of self-discovery, to the final stage of
self-assertiveness.
Fanon calls the final level, the fighting phase where the native now turns
himself and herself into an awakener of the people. He notes that during this
phase a great many men and women, who up till then would never have thought of
producing a literary work, now feel the need to speak to their nation; to
become the mouthpiece of a new reality in action; and compose that sentence,
which expresses the heart of the people.
Thus, in an era replete with satellite television, cell phones,
blackberries, play stations, radio, internet and a host of interactive
software, it is heartening to be associated with the BTA or Anglo Platinum
Short Story Competition. This project is giving a voice to thousands of
ordinary South Africans, and in this way, promoting a wealth of local
writing.
I understand that this competition has been running for the past 13 years,
and this is the eighth time that Anglo Platinum Corporation is sponsoring it.
The total prize money of R65 000 makes this competition one of the most
lucrative in the region, and that may be one of the reasons more than 14 000
stories had been submitted from throughout Southern Africa since the inception
of the competition.
As our host, Beulah Thumbadoo, has observed, the remarkable success of the
BTA or Anglo Platinum Short Story Competition, and the enthusiasm displayed for
the competition and other reading campaigns, is a clear indication that South
Africa has a yearning for native reading matter. This is clearly demonstrated
by the example set by the newspaper, Daily Sun. Although its possibility of
success was initially met with scepticism, the paper is now printing in excess
of 500 000 copies a day, and has a projected readership of over a million.
You and I have noted the growing number of magazines on our shelves.
Indications are that this is a bourgeoning market. It would indeed be most
interesting to have statistics of its readership, whether they are faithful
buyers of several other magazines or whether they also dip into the arena of
books.
The question of who is reading what is of special importance. As a nation in
the making, every item on our national developmental agenda is at risk if we
cannot get the culture of reading right. Reading is one of the most powerful
formative activities.
We need to become a nation of readers and writers, if we are to succeed in
rebuilding this country. We can only be good engineers and scientists, doctors,
economists, sociologists, and so on, if we can master language, and have a
profound understanding of the written word.
Ladies and gentlemen, as 2007 also marks the 30th anniversary of Steve
Biko's death at the hands of the apartheid state, Beulah has asked me to stray
from my portfolio as the Minister of Science and Technology to consider and
explore with you the central messages of Steve Biko's writings, and their
relevance for writers today.
Steve Biko was a thinker and philosopher who shot from the tongue and the
typewriter with words that were considered more threatening to the apartheid
state than any that had been spoken before, and perhaps any that have been
spoken since.
To be more pertinent, what advice would Steve Biko have given to the
competition organisers who, I understand, are struggling to strike a balance
between the original aims and objectives of the competition and their
uptake?
The competition was intended to encourage black people to write their own
stories for publication and reading by others in the black community,
especially those who have been systematically denied the benefits of reading in
the past. Before opening this competition to all our citizens, I learn the
organisers want to ensure the attainment of this goal.
This will promote prolific writing, and hopefully lead to a situation where
the more educated are once again writing for the poorly educated. This is but
one challenge since the organisers of the competition, whose motto is, the
"Right 2B Read", are also trying to make inroads into the aggressively
pervasive Information Technology culture already alluded to.
I do not claim to have the answers to these difficult questions, but Biko
believed it was inevitable that the diverse South African cultures should
mutually influence each other.
More significantly, his view was that the culture of the indigenous
majority, rather than that of the settler minority, should become the dominant
national culture. His lament was that South Africa "looks like a province of
Europe". The point Biko was making to us is that African culture is dynamic; it
did not cease to evolve in 1652.
Thirteen years into democratic rule, can we proudly claim that we are on
course in shaping our African culture in exactly the way he had predicted? Are
the efforts of the many winners of this competition, who have, over the years,
been speaking to this multicultural reality, finally paying off?
As an honour to Steve Biko's memory and life, this competition will be
rising to the challenge if it can offer accolades to writing that is original,
thought provoking, constructive and conducive to the kind of society that South
Africans of all races are striving to build.
This is writing that does not seek affirmation from the value systems of
foreign cultures. It is writing that unmistakably bears the hallmarks of a
nation building consciousness that must preoccupy all South Africans.
And for supporting this "old fashioned" nation building process, I want to
sincerely thank the sponsors, Anglo Platinum, for their perseverance in
encouraging and supporting home-grown talent in the Southern Africa Region.
Human capital is the most precious asset of any nation, it is infinite, and
has the capacity to recreate and reinvent itself. Stories from this competition
need to see the light of day as popular books in homes, community libraries and
schools. No effort must be spared in ensuring that some of the scripts are
translated into documentaries and storylines for a yet-to-be-born Southern
African film industry.
This is the only way we can ensure bigger rewards for the authors, sustain
the popularity of their stories among our youth, and elevate African cultures
to international levels.
Steve Biko would not have encouraged writing for its own sake. On the
contrary, he would have encouraged writing that builds, educates, advances and
elevates our nation to the highest pedestals of human endeavour.
I sincerely hope that the entrants and prospective winners of the short
story competition today encompass both the spirit and idealism of Steve Biko's
writing.
Finally, Ladies and gentlemen, my wish is to see in my lifetime a body of
knowledge published in indigenous languages that brings back the pride of the
black community. Writers today have all the support and liberties afforded by
the Constitution to write, in Biko's words, whatever they like.
I encourage young writers to work with elders, engage in a dialogue to
record the wisdoms that we so much need today. Like those writers who gave us
hope during the dark years of colonialism, may today's authors create fiction
that talks to social reality, global challenges, and most importantly, to a
renaissance of Africa's consciousness.
May this support for creative writing not be seen exclusively as a
competition where the best win, but as a way of giving prizes to a few at a
time. Those whose works were not nominated should not think of themselves as
the not-so-good writers.
They should see themselves as valuable contributors who make others run for
their money. They have another chance of going back home to sharpen their
writing skills.
Let me end, as a tribute to our writers, with a poem I wrote while in exile
in Zimbabwe in 1993:
Learning to write
Learning to write
is to turn
sorcerer with words
to build mansions
of verbs and nouns
in the residence
of my mind
Learning to write
is to wallow
in ideas of good and evil
to create and destroy
to ensnare others
in webs of ecstasy or boredom.
Learning to write
is to invite
the loneliness of brooding hens
a nursing that knows no day or night
to court the pain and joy
of a messy birth, on paper
Mosibudi Mangena from the September/October 1993 workshop
Issued by: Department of Science and Technology
4 September 2007
Source: Department of Science and Technology (http://www.dst.gov.za)
