If you’re reading this from South Africa, congratulations. You have not been voted off the island. You have weathered the various challenges and gained an award here and there. If not immunity (cough, BEE, cough) than perhaps a reward (cough, historical advantage, cough). You are a survivor; the best of your tribe.*
Here’s the bad news. There is no million dollar win. There is just more of the same.
But don’t pack for Perth just yet! The cheery monosyllabic alliteration of the phrase is way too cloying. Try London instead.
Ah, the negative South African. Reams have been written about this individual and their ancestral visas, infectious panic and dull conversation. So much so, they have achieved near mythic status. No one can possibly be that negative. If they are they would have left by now and contented themselves with checking SA news sites repeatedly to make sure it’s all going to hell like they promised themselves it would.
I’ve always been rather pleased by the mass exit of the negative South African. It’s a bit like a social evolution: a survival of the optimist. It means we should largely be left with a land filled with those who have decided to make it work.
But no. They leave behind something dark in their wake which infects the water and sours the air. Forget a hobby … I’m beginning to think negativity is more like a national idol in its all-encompassing, all-knowing nature. It is fed in the homage we pay it at every dinner party and grows belligerent and jealous when we laugh in the corridors of its dark temple. It smacks us down with omnipotent finality when we dare to hope, to love or to live.
As with all crazy religions it’s the fanatics that cause the biggest ruckus. Most South Africans are not this negative. But most South Africans aren’t as damn loud and histrionic as the negatives.
Still, if we’re not all as belligerently negative as that, a lot of Saffers are rather depressed about our country most of the time — in a quietly hopeless, desperate sort of way. By nature of my job I’m exposed to far more negative headlines and news than the average South African. That’s why it always comes as something of a surprise to me how seriously disheartened good South African people everywhere become when they talk about the state of local politics.
“How’s that Malema story?” they’ll ask mournfully, incredulity a hackneyed emotion at this stage.
“I know!” I’ll answer with glee, before launching into the intricacies of the latest scandal surrounding the ANCYL president. I’d use the same tone I’ve heard other people employ with other, um, news … Like when Danny K broke up with that chick whose name I’d know if I cared. Because, for me, so much of this is political theatre: ridiculous as it is often hilarious.
Sure, democracy is at stake to varying degrees with every political article. And we should definitely get angry enough to do something when we can and when it is warranted. But there’s no point getting an ulcer about it.
But many middle class South African, especially, are like a teenage girl with a crush when it comes to their country. Periods of dark gloom and hopelessness are punctuated by brief bouts of shaky euphoria. But here’s the thing: the Boks can’t win the World Cup often enough to keep you going. Respond to the politics of our country and make a difference when you can but don’t sink into despair. Negativity is a tempting god but one that does neither you nor your world any favours. With its minions and naysayers out of our lives and country we’ll be better, stronger, happier, faster, like the booty mama Beyonce puts it. We’ll work harder, laugh louder and keep making it. We’ll be survivors.
Now there’s some pop news I’d be interested in.
- You can read Verashni’s column every Monday here, and follow her on Twitter here.
*This part was a joke. Do not write me long-winded comments about how not everyone who has left SA is negative. In fact don’t write me long-winded comments full stop. Or try to find me on Facebook. That’s just weird.