/ 4 August 2009

The daddy of all misfortunes

Many people who know my six-year-old son can attest to this, so these are not just the boastful ramblings of a proud mom.

He is prone to making the most insightful observations about the world of politics and international affairs that always leave everyone gobsmacked. One of his prized gems includes: ‘When is Marc Ravolamanana going back to Madagascar?”

And at the time of the signing of Zimbabwe’s unity government agreement, he warned his nanny — who is Zimbabwean — not to be overly excited about developments back home as one couldn’t really trust Robert Mugabe.

Now, one could easily ascribe this to my influence, but he has developed a keen interest in world events and follows the news quite closely even when I’m not around.

Of course, I encourage his interest by explaining the significance of these developments as much as I can, but even I drew the line recently when I saw him picking up a copy of Moeletsi Mbeki’s Architects of Poverty and settling down on the couch to peruse the book. I insisted he read Winnie the Pooh or something with three-or four-letter words that he could actually read.

Parenting is hard at the best of times, but as the single mother of a boy I’m constantly anxious about whether I am making the best and wisest decisions about how I’m raising him. Just as there is no manual or guidebook for life, there certainly isn’t one for being a parent either. It’s scary.

What I’ve focused on is constantly affirming him because I never want him to feel inadequate or insecure because his mother and father do not live together. The biggest challenge is trying to raise a boy who is sensitive and caring yet also strong and independent.

I often wonder whether he is missing out on some valuable lessons on how to become a man — that I can’t teach him. Yes, he spends a great deal of time with his father but, as the primary caregiver, those lessons will come from me and that is daunting. What do I know about being a boy?

There must be a lot of us in the same position, judging by the recent survey done by the South African Institute of Race Relations on the state of the South African family, which executive director John Kane-Berman describes as being in ‘dire straits”. The institute’s Fast Facts survey finds that ‘family life seems an impossible dream for millions”, adding that ‘this may well be the biggest risk facing the country”.

I couldn’t agree more. These are the numbers. An estimated 40% of South Africa’s 18-million children are being raised by single mothers.

A closer breakdown finds that more than half (52%) of African mothers in urban areas are single,
followed by coloured (30%), whites (24%) and Indians (7%).

The study also found that between 1993 and 2002 the presence of fathers in the household decreased across all races. It found that the reason wasn’t because these fathers had died as a result of illnesses such as HIV/Aids but that there was an increase in absent living fathers from 40% to 50%.

Kane-Berman asks this question: ‘Why are more living fathers not with their children?” The study does not provide answers to this critical question as it was just the starting point aimed at sketching the outlines of this picture — further research is needed to fill in the blank spaces.

The outcomes of such a study should be fascinating and give us some insight and understanding into what is happening to our society.

In the past the issue of broken families, particularly among Africans, could be ascribed to apartheid policies aimed at limiting the number of blacks in urban areas. But, surely, 15 years into democracy, that cannot still be the reason?

With political and some measure of economic freedom, one would imagine that this is the time to reclaim what was lost and cement family ties where the opportunity arises, but it’s not happening.

The South African Institute of Race Relations is now looking for funders to support more research into the state of the family. I wish the organisation well in that endeavour but, in the interim, let’s have that debate here in High Heels.

Let’s be frank and honest — there is no need to be defensive.This is not about pointing fingers. It’s about seeking to understand our reality and hopefully come up with answers, which will inform how we move forward as South African men and women.