The Case of Medical Male Circumcision, Lost Lives and Cultural Hegemony

by Khomotso Ntuli

The time of the year in which a number of South African communities send their young males to traditional initiation schools so that they may come back as “men”, brings about a great deal of questions and commentary. Government, NGOs and civil society have all raised concerns over the number of lives that are lost annually through the traditional initiation practices.

According to an article by Sapa that appeared in The Times on 16 July 2014, the following statistics were reported for the winter initiation season: “Over 180 boys have been admitted to hospital and 35 have died so far since the initiation season started".

Furthermore, a report by the Commission for the Promotion and Protection of the Rights of Cultural, Religious and Linguistic Communities indicated that the 2013 death toll at initiation schools in Eastern Cape was 83 fatalities. A further 54 565 initiates were hospitalised due to botched traditional initiation surgeries. Limpopo province reported just over half the number of hospital admissions compared to the Eastern Cape at 35 621.

Some people may ask: What is it exactly in this day and age that makes young males resolute on undergoing circumcision without anaesthetic for example, or antibiotics and general medicinal intervention when infection occurs? Well, there are a number of reasons why some people would continue doing this, in the same way as the Jewish communities would have reasons around the practice of circumcision. These reasons may not be embraced by some the people living outside these cultural settings, but they have a historical basis nonetheless. One of the recent arguments advocating for the continuation of circumcision has been that circumcising reduces chances of sexually transmitted infections, which is a much needed intervention in the context of our country’s HIV and AIDS prevalence. One would however argue that there is more to this than the health aspect, which is usually brought up in a relatively secondary manner of these discussions.

Worth noting for anyone about to engage in the male traditional circumcision versus the medical alternative debate, are the historical contexts and the clarity needed in handling such a debate. Traditional circumcision is not just a surgical procedure, but part of an important and long standing cultural ritual that different communities go through as rite of passage into manhood.

Historical context

One has always found it interesting to note that some rituals that are found in the bible, made their way to a number of countries in which they are either not clearly documented or recorded at all. Circumcision for boys is obviously one of these rituals. Circumcision for women, or what tends to assume the genital mutilation tag, is an equally important issue, but one to be discussed another day. So why did men need to be circumcised in the past?

Before I respond to the question, I would like us to look at the current meaning of circumcision. One stands to be corrected on this point. In the South African context, there are very few places where the importance of male circumcision as the rite of passage to manhood is as vital as in the culture of amaXhosa, baPedi, maTsonga and amaNdebele among others. Not only it is important for the young boys’/men’s esteem to undergo the ritual, it also helps them find a place in their community. Having gone through the traditional initiation process gives the initiates a kind of stature that allows them to participate in important family issues among other things. If a young man has not gone through this ritual, marriage to a girl that is umXhosa for an example, tends to also be a bit difficult as he is not seen as complete man.

Our minister of sports, Fikile Mbalula, had to go through the initiation process at a relatively advanced age of 34 amid taunts. Mbalula, the former ANC Youth League leader, may be comforted by the fact that God’s covenant with the biblical Abraham required that all male Jewish children be circumcised. This meant that Abraham also had to undergo this ritual at the very advanced age of 99. So, late circumcision is not bad.

The reasons for Minister Mbalula’s need to undergo initiation at the time he did may be known only to him. It would be fair to respect the choice he made around this matter. There is however something worth learning from the response by president of the Congress of Traditional Leaders of South Africa, Patekile Holomisa, to a Sowetan article by Zenoyise Madikwa where he said the following of the minister: "In the Xhosa tradition boys are not allowed into positions of leadership. They are not even allowed to sit with men. I am puzzled that he [the minister] was allowed to get married."

On the contrary, the case of Zulu men not undergoing this ritual after inkosi uShaka ruled it out as one that contributed to temporary loss of men for war purposes, is one that may bring an alternative view to the notion of manhood.

Why cultural hegemony is a necessary lens to look through

Taking into account the fact that there have been a number of deaths related to circumcision that take place in traditional initiation schools, some may suggest Medical Male Circumcision as the best way forward, without of course taking into account the fact that this plays into the continuous undermining of African culture and traditions. Specifically here, is one’s view that it’s important to respect people’s cultural preferences, when it’s said that traditional circumcision as a rite of passage is not the same as medical male circumcision.

Perhaps it’s important to be cognisant of the fact that it is almost impossible to critique the flaws of black cultural practices without running into some problems. There is a potential threat that such a critique may play into a discourse that finds a lot that is wrong in African culture, without the same kind of critique being applied to other cultures, especially European ones. It is clear that there are a number of people who do not appreciate the importance of traditional institutions that are tasked with the initiation of young boys into manhood. The fact that institutions responsible for this traditional practice are not appreciated in the face of a predominantly Eurocentric-oriented country, and that deaths of initiates occur, simply adds fuel to the fire.

One is of the view that there is obviously a lot in our traditional practices that is patriarchal and that there are other issues that need to be looked at through a contemporary lens. But one should warn against the views of those who make it to the “thought leader” status of newspapers, who by virtue of such a big platform, tend to shape popular opinion which should not necessarily be used to decide the courses that communities are to take.

It is with this in mind that one would challenge those who may be quick to wish to replace traditional circumcision practices with medical ones, to first take note of the fact that communities have the right to practice traditional rituals as they are part of their culture. These are rights protected by the Constitution of our country and are worth respecting. If we, as a society or as government wish to help, especially in curbing the number of deaths, it is important to engage with traditional leaders with a view to collaboratively arrive at a solution. There are clearly issues of accreditation that are crucial in preventing bogus iiIngcibi (traditional circumcision surgeons) from exacerbating the issue.

One would suggest that it is not fair that those who do not understand the need for traditional circumcision simply propose that people get surgically circumcised and then continue with the other part (which has to do with teachings personal conduct of manhood and other responsibilities of an initiate towards his community) in the bush. Circumcision is not an isolated surgical operation, but an integral part of a people’s way of life. Whether it is a concept of manhood that adds or takes away appreciation for gender equality is an issue for a different piece of writing. What is important here is to reiterate that with our wish to curb the loss of lives due to illegal activities and not the circumcision practice itself, we may do well if we could engage with traditional leaders. This way we would guarantee that we put in place measures that will ensure that only accredited traditional surgeons get to circumcise our youth. This intervention may help a lot of us avoid falling into a view that has ready-made solutions for people’s cultures and traditions, simply because we feel they are “outdated”.

About the Author: Khomotso Ntuli is the founder and facilitator of Bush Dialogues, a dialogue platform that looks at issues around human rights and active citizenship. He can be reached at mmotsodemi(at)gmail.com

Carl Collison writes about Palesa Motsumi's Journey into African Literature

The article above was first published in the Cape Towner of 25 September 2014. Its reproduction here is done for the purpose of
widening the reach of this location-specific publication and for spreading messages around the arts in general. Text and picture: ©Carl Collison.

New Heroes

by Deon-Simphiwe Skade

The 2014 Open Book Festival came and went with a successful turnout, considering of course that books sales have been declining in recent years. This positive outcome is worth commending, bearing in mind that Open Book is only a few years old compared to other long established literary festivals.

Perhaps what is of concern with literary festivals however is the minimal numbers of black audience. It would be very interesting to know, through research of course, why there is not nearly enough black people attending these types of events. Assuming that the reasons for the poor turnout is an economic one, for example, I believe it is not nearly enough reason for the poor turnout. For I know of many young and old professionals within the black population that do indeed read and support other art events in general.

Perhaps there is a golden opportunity for the literary festival sponsors and organisers to get other segments of the South Africa society to attend book fairs. Also, as suggested by prolific writer and festival participant, Thando Mgqolozana, these book festivals should in fact be hosted in townships as well.

Nonetheless, a shift in mindsets by introducing a Comic Fest, as done by the organisers of the Open Book, proves that innovation usually brings in tremendous results that feed into integration and general growth of the arts. It is precisely for this reason I wish to write solely about the comic book segment of the Open Book Festival, from a specific point of view of course.

The Comic Fest attracted a large number of illustrators and comic material creators. The Homecoming Centre, which is where the comic creatives were housed, was teeming with people who either came to buy the many books that were on display, or to have the authors sign their books. Many other patrons came to buy and even learn more about the comic books. I was one such person... 

CONTINUE READING THIS ARTICLE HERE.

Magolompita’s Triumphant Narrative Flow

by Deon-Simphiwe Skade

Narratives play a vital role of giving various art forms their identities. How successful a narrative of a particular discipline of art becomes, for example, is chiefly dependent on the artistic skill and execution of the one producing or creating the art piece. As an artist who appreciates various forms of art and reflects on these disciplines from time to time, I am going to have yet another reflection. And seeing that the art form I have chosen to express myself through is writing, particularly fiction; I will use this art form to illustrate how successful narratives and language should work.

Perhaps it would be wise for me to first explain what both narrative and language each stand for in the context of this article. A narrative, which possesses dual meaning in this setting, represents a full account of a story. A narrative also represents a stylistic form of that which is being related to an audience. Language on the other hand, in its dual rolefas well, represents an era in which the story is set. In addition, language, by way of extension to other literary tools such as dialogue and so forth, helps in achieving the completeness of a story. This happens when language exposes the audience members to a wider range of issues in the story that includes and not limited to: a people’s culture; their manner of speaking; their personalities and the environment in which they live in. These elements are unearthed from the structural form of the narrative that is closely guided by language, in order to reveal more and more information about the story and its characters. It is in this myriad of interventions and the overriding supremacy of narrative and language that we can safely come to a conclusion that a writer as an artist, has indeed managed to present the story well. And when the writer is truly successful in his or her attempts as evidenced by the compelling nature of the narrative; that is when we speak of the work as being honest.

Honesty is another key feature of storytelling and other forms of art that distinguishes great works from the rest. A work of art should be honest enough in order to be taken seriously by those who truly appreciate art in its creative input and output. By being honest, I mean that the work ought to give a strong impression that it was written from a point of authority. The story may be fantastic in its ideas perhaps to a verge of being incredulous for those not familiar with the subject matter at hand. But as long as it is honest enough, it is bound to be taken seriously; for the story succeeds in its representation of that which is being related.

I would like to believe that such a view as expressed above is held by other people who appreciate art. But the relevance or influence of this view may not necessarily be reflected in the literary world through its writers, publishers, critics, reviewers and general readers. For we see a flurry of books published each and every year without unique representations of new narrative structures and language forms. Variations in literary presentation do come up once in a while, and for this we may look to people such as Dambudzo Marechera, Tracey Farren and Aryan Kaganof among those who deserve credit for such interventions. These writers and others I did not mention, capture the essence of what both narrative and language ought to achieve in a story when it is truly representative. Similarly, other artists working through other media such as music, visual art and so forth, have innovators of their own whose approach to narrative and language break away from the mundane.

It is precisely at this point that I wish to focus on the successful narrative and language use as employed by Magolompita, a Hip Hop group based in mining town of Welkom, Free State – my hometown. This unsigned music group consisting of Pule Tsoaela (aka Bentu Bam Tseka) and Lebaka Tsotetsi (aka Sheke Macasha), illustrates through their self-titled debut EP album, the importance of presenting artistic work with complete honesty. I got to know of the group’s existence through Thabang Nale, a graphic designer friend of mine living in Thabong, a township on the outskirts of Welkom. It was through Thabang and Kooles’t Venda, a lifestyle shop he jointly owns with the Pule and Lebaka that I got to buy a copy of Magolompita’s EP album (other distribution channels the collective pursues is selling their music from backpacks and through the Internet). The purchase was made earlier this year, even though the album had been out since October 2013. It was couriered to me from Welkom to Cape Town, which has since become my home, via the postal service.

Even though I listened to the album on the day I collected it from the post office and on the many subsequent days, it is only now that I managed to get a chance to reflect on the album’s artistic merit. I must point out that with each listening session I have had, that there was a consistent sense of being overwhelmed; for the music is so fresh and so innovative. This freshness seems to extend on to the CD cover of the EP as well. The artwork designer, whom I suspect to be Thabang, made the CD cover to resemble an exercise book that is covered in brown paper like those meant for school. And right in the centre is a white classic book label that reads Magolompita, to suggest that the contents could be scribbling as the name Magolompita means in English. The print on the actual disc inside is the one that captures the essence of what Magolompita is, as children in the townships would refer to juvenile writing or drawing endeavours. But there is nothing juvenile about the music loaded on the CD; the fresh and honest narratives immediately tell you so when the vocals start coming out.

The beat structure of the music has elements of hip hop music as we know it today. There is a teasing playfulness in the beats and in the overall rhythm of the music that I find working well for me as a so-called Old Skool Hip Hop audience member. But it is the group’s narrative structure and the language form that I find them most successful. Unlike some Hip Hop artists whose rhyme structures come across as forced and sometimes senseless, Magolimpita’s has a natural flow with impressive quality. For the duo demonstrates a rare ability to handle their narratives with a balanced combination of wit, satire and solid social commentary.

There is an impressive lyrical wordplay in the verses delivered by each member. The narratives are in a fine balance mix of Sesotho (in both its original dialectical variations), English, township lingo and Tsotsi-Taal (language of township thugs). Much like Hip Hop Pantsula who has been highly successful in his brand of local Hip Hop called Motswako, Magolompita achieves such artistic excellence in their music with their introductory work.

There is a distinct feature in the language used in the lyrics. It reflects and represents the realities of young people in the present era with all the challenges and aspirations they possess. However there is also the representation of the past through the words and metaphors of the long-gone era used in the language of their narratives. And from these words, a people’s heritage is preserved and shared with the listener. The duo is frank. Perhaps so frank that the CD cover ought to have the “parental advisory” warning printed on it (interestingly, literature does not have such disclaimers). But candid language should not negate the group’s brilliant efforts in creating honest, authoritative and striking narratives.

Perhaps I should reproduce some of the duo's finest lyrics below. These are taken from track one, Chikoto:

Chain e gold (mina)
Ha o sok'oeraka (never)
I'm in the spot ba mpitsa bamtseka (yeah)
Loss-speed (ngwana), cheka letheka
And I spit the shit enkare ke na le letseka/tlala mina tlasa kasi/ thubelitsha maspala shout out tiddy tops/tlala le bale ba nwang dikala
Fall back nigger ka bontsho
All I choose swagger re hlodiseng empa ha e rule

It is undisputed that Hip Hop is on a meteoric rise in South Africa and other African states. We have learnt in the past with genres such as Kwaito music, that such increased attention on a particular genre opens it up to all sorts of exploitation. This is where mediocrity begins to surface from people who claim to represent the growth of that particular genre, when they are in fact all about making money and creating undeserved personal fame. We have already seen such artists in the instance of the sharp rise of interest in local Hip Hop music. In addition to these opportunistic artists, there has also been some South African rappers who are bent on mimicking their America counterparts. But this practice and the ones mentioned before are not helping the genre grow in a positive manner. What is even more depressing is the amount of airplay these posturing artists get. But then what do we expect when greatness has become more about swagger than the actual art of making music and exploiting the social commentary element of it?

South African Hip Hop is well-placed to continue the mainstream ascent it has enjoyed in the last couple of years. Much like other African states, South African Hip Hop artists may take a global place through the exploitation of indigenous languages in the land. It took a few pioneering individuals from Mafikeng to put SeTswana language in the forefront of local music through their Motswako brand. As mentioned, Hip Hop Pantsula, along with other innovative artists such as Khuli Chana, Morafe, Molemi, Tuks and Cassper Nyovest among others, have been very successful in this regard. The isiXhosa speaking artists of Cape Town created their own brand of Hip Hop and called it Spaza, while their coloured counterparts who may well be the godfathers of South Africa Hip Hop, created a distinct Afrikaans-laced brand of Hip Hop. It is clear from the above examples that strong movements emerge from united efforts. I just hope that Sesotho, my mother tongue, also gets to enjoy wider representation not only in Hip Hop, but in other music genres as well. Thus it can also expand the national heritage of this beautiful country of ours. Perhaps Magolompita may just be the group from the Sesotho-speaking population to spearhead this movement. And maybe a few years from now similar successes as enjoyed by the Motswako brand of Hip Hop may be achieved.

In conclusion, it is worth noting that there is an element in Hip Hop music that promotes self-supremacy. This is done in both good and bad taste. There are for example, artists who despite proclaiming to be better than others, are actually having a merit to do so because there is a highly intellectual and artistic way they approach their work (not that I encourage self-praise anyway). Sadly, there are rappers who are quintessentially bad in that they are merely empty vessels that make the most noise – no stimulation or engagement from their content whatsoever.

However, I am happy to note that Magolopita falls in the group that is both artistic and intellectually probing in their art form. And this is the kind of artistic discipline I appreciate about various forms of art. I can only wish that their footprint reach the whole of South Africa and abroad.

12. Person Centered Revolution

Reflections on The Way of The Outsider 

by Monde Mdodana    

Nxele will return!
He will yet come to us, bold as Love.
Nxele The Outsider.

He will be poor; hence he will have nothing

to lose.
He will announce The Person Centered Revolution!

Nxele will return!

He will speak as one who has been silent
for two hundred years; the people
will hear their forgotten Selves in his speech.

He will be poor; hence he will have nothing to lose.

He will announce The Person Centered Revolution! 

Nxele will return!

He will not fight to Liberate the race,
nor will he fight to Liberate the class;
The Outsider will return to struggle
for the Liberation of the Person!

He will be poor; hence he will have nothing to lose.

He will announce The Person Centered Revolution!

Nxele will return!

He will be seen in Initiation Schools,
teaching young men The Way to Heal through Love.

He will be poor; hence he will have nothing to lose.

He will announce The Person Centered Revolution!

Nxele will return!

He will trouble no man, yet he will be
as terrifying as The Black Panther
in Self defense!

He will be poor; hence he will have nothing to lose.

He will announce The Person Centered Revolution!

The Truth About that Dream: an excerpt from a short story

by Deon-Simphiwe Skade



It feels like a dream. One I may easily wake up from. If only someone could shake me. Can someone shake me – Please? But it ought to be the right push, lest I get tipped off from the comfort of my bed and fall. I’m fearful of falling, and of heights. Perhaps this fear has something to do with my bad dreams. I usually experience dreams in which I fall; from rooftops, bridges, trees, mountains – I’m always falling – forever.

As I try to make peace with my fear for falling, I see a man I always struggle to outrun. He has graced many of my dreams before.
Even though I haven’t seen him in a while, he still carries the same malevolent air about him that holds enormous darkness in my sleep.  I watch him approach a short distance away. Like me, he’s walking in a dimly-lit alley with the clearest night watching over the world.  The man seems to be calculating ways of eventually capturing me in order to cause me serious bodily harm. It’s in the way he inspects me that reveals his malicious desires. To date, I still don’t know what I did to him to be such sought blood.

I could turn around and run, but such a move could cost me in many ways. For one, the dark man runs very fast which is of course my disadvantage. If I have to escape him this time, I have to be a little innovative and lead him to believe that my calm approach is merely to submit myself to him, only to surprise him with my sudden escape when I get closer to him. The escape I would manage, would lead me to the resumption of my search for Cynthia. She promised to kiss me. I’m sure that my girlfriend would not approve of Cynthia’s lips touching mine, especially the way lovers’ lips touch. But we’ll make the whole thing our little secret, Cynthia and I.

I have been eager to kiss Cynthia since we became colleagues a few months ago. She’s been very keen to kiss me too, but has been playful about the whole thing. She even teased about her desire to kiss me in the presence of our colleagues, who then just laughed her talk off like it was a joke. But I know she meant it. That is why I have to find her before the night dies so as to put an end to her little games.

The sky is a clear dark blue blanket. But the stars have shunned its darkness. It’s as if the vast space above had caused an embarrassment to the entire universe, and somehow the non-showing of stars serves as a fitting punishment to the heavens. But it’s the same ol’ night. The preceding ones have had the same melting blue, which twinkled with traces of ghosts that roamed above while the whole world was fast asleep.

With all the risk I’m taking to find Cynthia, I know it may seem like I’m the one with the greater urge to kiss her. But she’s just being strategic about the whole thing. I know she’s being deliberately elusive so that I may chase her and later become the one to carry the blame when we’re both caught and shamed for our kiss.

“I did not suggest that we kiss; you did and pushed me to that end.” I imagine her saying this, washing her hands clean of any traces of guilt.

But I don’t think it would come to that, we’d keep the whole thing discreet.
I have to find Cynthia and show her how silly traces of ghosts look in this sullen blue night; which if one thinks about it, ought to be affected by the revelations of dead souls flashing over its tremendous plane.

As I get closer to the approaching dark man in the alley, I search for his large illuminated eyes and find them. They are flickering like amber flames fighting not to die. He fixes his stare on me, ready to pounce. Then out of the blue, the air suddenly becomes thick with pressure, as if throttled by the tensions of evil forces.  And before I could assess the distance that keeps the dark man away from me, he charges, snarling like an angry predator. Something subdues me and takes away my ability to move. I become weak: at the knees, in my thoughts and throughout my entire muscled frame.

But I manage to jump towards the top edge of the alley wall in the same way as I planned to escape. My hands lock into a firm grip which should allow me to lift my body up so as to jump over the wall. But I’m too heavy to do that. The dark man stands and watches me as I struggle. And then he laughs with a dark whimper in his voice...

... This story continues here.

(It was first published on Botsotso Literary Journal.)

The Left Hand of Prophecy (Part One): an excerpt from a short story

by Monde Mdodana


“One of the most remarkable figures in Xhosa history is warrior prophet named Nxele, known in the colony as Makana or Links, the left-handed.”


1. Nxele’s Prologue

And now that we have made all the preparations, I must take pains to write this letter. I hope that it will be timeless, and that every Son of Man will read it. But I am addressing it specifically to you; the Existing Individual. I can not hope to address it to everyone, for then I address it to no one. I can not hope to inspire Spirit in the crowd, for Spirit manifests not but through the Existing Individual Soul. Concepts such as “crowd”, “humanity” and “mankind” are but abstractions representing a group of Existing Individuals. What actually exist, in the concrete, are the Individuals, not the concepts. The first clue to the Spirit is the Spiritual Individual. The first clue to the Creator is the Created Individual. The first clue to Existence is the Existing Individual. No, I can not hope to inspire the crowd with Spirit. But you, the Existing Individual, I have Faith in you.


2. The Seven Solitudes or The Ten Year Exile

From the moment we set foot on the island, I began attracting thoughts about making a getaway as soon as an opportunity presented itself. I gave myself up to the christians because I knew it was me that they wanted the most. The scourge that they brought to the village was a challenge to me personally to come out of hiding. They know that I am the heart of the assault, that it is I who inspired the warriors to raise the War Cry and stab the enemy in order to protect the land. I knew that they would not cease to harrass and torture the villagers as long as I remained in hiding.

I gave myself up so here I am; bound at Robben Island. They could have kept me in a prison in Xhosaland, but they chose to bring me out to this island. I imagine that a plant that has been uprooted and left in the sun to dry feels like I feel right now; banned from the nutritious soil, exiled, condemned to the Seven Solitudes! They obviously hope to hammer it in that I will never see my homeland again, to press it into my psyche until it sinks in that I will be isolated forever! The island is a symbol of Isolation, their message is clear to me.

But I am no stranger to isolation. In fact, isolation is my most faithful Spirit. I like to call him Solitude and play with his ears. I have been with Solitude ever since I was a little boy. He and I have an irresistible, mysterious, unspoken connection. He has been following me everywhere I go for as long as I can remember. But I also follow him sometimes. To the bushveld, to the rivers; to the mountains! I let Solitude lead every now and again because he knows where Mystery dwells.

She is an irresistible creature, this Mystery. Our best minds and Huntsmen in The World of Spirit have broken down or gone insane, all in despair of her elusive nature. But what is really irresistible about Mystery? Is she irresistible in herself, or is it an irresistible urge in us to search, to explore, to climb the mountains of Consciousness that we may know their abysses as well as their summits? I think it’s the latter; we, Huntsmen in The World of Spirit, are the begetters of the irresistible quality in Mystery. Mystery Exists, but not every man finds her irresistible. It is us, Huntsmen in The World of Spirit!

You may be wondering; what is a Huntsman in The World of Spirit? A Huntsman in The World of Spirit is a -Man of Solitude. Every man has his Solitude, but not every man acknowledges him in his entirety. A Huntsman in The World of Spirit must accept his Solitude, because it is from, in, and through Solitude that he will learn to go beyond the senses in his hunt for the heart of Mystery. And we must not forget our formula: The first clue to the Spirit is the Spiritual Individual. The first clue to the Creator is the Created Individual. The first clue to Existence is the Existing Individual. But what is the first clue to Mystery? The first clue to Mystery is the Self. His Individual Soul or him-Self is everyman’s first true Mystery. A Huntsman in The World of Spirit must learn this. He must learn that the crowd can not help him in his search for Mystery or Spirit or the Creator. That is, he must learn to accept his Solitude!

A Huntsman in The World of Spirit should strive to be like the Firefly, which finds its way through darkness not but by the aid of its own light...

... This story continues here.

(It was first published on Botsotso Literary Journal.)

11. Existential Becoming

Reflections on The Way of The Outsider 

by Monde Mdodana

The Moment of Creation is every moment or the Moment of Creation is Existential Becoming. That is, if an Individual makes a Choice to be x instead of y at Moment A, then he has to make that Choice again at Moment B in order to remain x. He has to Become x, because x is not his essence; his essence is to Choose. That is, if he wants to be x, then he has to Create x out of him-self, every Moment of his life! And so it comes about that every man Becomes the sum of the Choices that he makes. But, as long as long as he is still alive, we can not underline the problem. So because, as long as he still lives, he still has the power to make additions or subtractions to the sum which is him-Self.

Existential becoming is a terrible concept. If you are strong, honest and brave enough to understand it, then it cannot but condemn you to Fear and Trembling. When one grasps this concept, intellectually and Spiritually, then one becomes a battleground for the conflict between the dynamic nature of Existence and the static nature of philosophical, moral and religious systems that claim to explain and demystify Existence. Philosophical, moral and religious systems are fixed symbols that attempt to represent Existence, but Existence is spontaneous, dynamic Energy or Spirit, infinitely Mysterious!

Foggy Road (lyrics)

by Burning Spear

My way is long, but the road is foggy,
My way is long, so long, but the road is foggy, foggy.

My head never swell, my heart never leap,
I never have no fear from within.
My head never swell my heart never leap,
I never no fear within.
Even though the road is so so foggy, foggy yeah,
Can hardly see, Jah Jah is my eyesight.
Be with I, be with I, be with I Jah Jah!
Jah Jah be with I, I and I and I and I!
Deh an' dem hate I, deh an' dem fight against I.
Some of them judge I wrongfully,
But never mind my Brother I will go on.

The road is foggy, foggy,
The road is foggy, foggy.

Guidance be with I and I, going out and coming in
From all the evil things and evil doers everyday,
This accident include

The road is so foggy, the road is so foggy, foggy.
So foggy.

No more stumbling by,
No more stumbling by.
Forward my Brother, go forward,
Even though the road is foggy, foggy.
I and I will never turn back.
Not turning back will I.
The road is so foggy, foggy.
The road is foggy, foggy.

Creation Rebel

by The Outsider

"The secret of initiation remains inviolable by its very nature; it cannot be betrayed because it cannot be expressed." Andrew Feldmar

During the period of my circumcision, I retreated to Inwardness so deep and frightening that it made a permanent mark on my nerves and changed my life forever. I listened to the teachings of the school of circumcision, I thought – I despaired. I accepted the teachings with an open heart so far as they recognized and acknowledged every man's aloneness. Much of man's Inward experiences are inexpressible. Language as a symbol for interpersonal communication is not fully capable of representing the Individual Soul or the Self to itself and to others. To think about oneself therefore, is only to know a fraction of oneself. For, thinking is the use of language in the organization of mental contents. Our thoughts are predominantly constructed from language. The insights that come to us from beyond the use of language are not thoughts, they are Intuitions.

None of the teachers at the school were aware of this inadequacy. Each of them thought about him-Self, they spoke to each other about themselves and none of them felt that he was under-representing him-Self. I despaired over this, and oftentimes I went aside and wandered the abysses and summits of the mountains.

For me, the circumcision involved the recognition that Umdalidiphu (The Creator of the Deep) does not see crowds; he only sees the Individual. I had to get circumcised as an Individual; no one could get circumcised on my behalf.

The circumcision means the sacrifice of the foreskin and the emergence of every man's Uniqueness. After the sacrifice of the foreskin, a new and original Individuality will emerge. It will not be like anyone else, but will have its own difference, its own special entity, its own character and its own special power. Umdalidiphu does not create all plants of exactly the same size, beauty and strength. There are stupid people, wise people and those whose heads have opened to the power to read thoughts and see that which is invisible to most people. The sacrifice reveals this new person hidden in the boy.

I wandered from school to school, from village to village, looking for a teacher who could teach me more Self and more Self-Expression. My Intuition told me to look for a teacher who can dance; "the teacher who can dance experiences more of him-Self than the thinker or the lukewarm speaker. Consequently, he will teach you the remotest and most hidden parts of your-Self". I followed my Intuition and went from teacher to teacher, greeting them with offerings of tobacco and brandy, bidding them to teach me to dance before Umdalidiphu. That is, to teach me complete Self-Expression.

I discovered that they weighed the value of your Manhood according to the amount of Self you sacrifice and how socially acceptable you are. I am not against being socially acceptable, I just think that we should give more respect to the Man who has the courage to be him-Self. A Man should not sacrifice himself for outward moralities, he should express him-Self to the fullest, because outward moralities are born from his Self-Expression.