Aahh Mfowethu Ngiyakucela tuu . . .
Once again for the benefit of the great majority of the 3 people who are regular visitors to this blog, the title roughly translated is: Aahh my brother, I am asking you please. This particular phrase irritates me to no end; and considering how often it is directed at me, I am seriously considering therapy of some sorts to help me deal effectively with this statement whenever (and that is often) it is directed at me.
This statement though, is not without foundation and context. You see, the earlier residents of the townships such as msawawa will tell you that it were literally built and continue to survive on the back of the co-operation of its residents. You have all heard the famous “Ubuntu” statement - you know the one “umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu“. Allow me to digress a little: I have recently learned, from my 6 year old girl no less that there is another version of this statement and this I believe is generally used by the residents of the suburbs. According to the little missus (did I tell you that she goes to some pre-school in town/suburbs somewhere- what do you mean where? - the taxi guy drops her off and fetches her and her mother knows where it is - I know what it costs) they were taught at this school (she does not like it when I call it pre-school) that “sharing is caring“. The point of this little detour is to show that not even children are spared the blackmail, wherever they are. Apparently the adults in the burbs don’t care if they are labelled as not caring.
Now in the township people help each other - well, mostly - this happens generally without asking and for the most part all goes well. But then there is the other side of this shiny coin - people expect to be helped just because they ask. I am spineless when it comes to these situations. It honestly makes me feel really bad to have to say no. I really wish people would consider my situation and assess on my behalf whether what they are about to ask me to do is reasonable. But noooo, they just go ahead and happily put you on the spot, ask you for the one favour you would rather not do.
I am at home, watching Pirates klap Chiefs and Vuyo not only invites himself into my home but proceeds to ask me to drive him to Bara (that is the Chris Hani Baragwanath Hospital) so that he can drop off some toiletries and pyjamas and stuff for his wife whom I drove to the hospital at 3am this morning after - well he says she slipped and hurt her back. That did not explain the swollen face on the woman but hey, what do I know. He says we have to go now because visiting hours are almost over and if we miss this window then we will have to wait for the evening visiting hours. I am watching the game - a huuuuge game for ubuntu’s sake!
This man makes it like it’s my fault that I have a car - that I am his neighbour! S’true I wish I could move - you know, move to some suburb where you don’t know your neighbours, they don’t know you, they don’t want to know you, you don’t care, you don’t share and all is well.
I live here though where people invite themselves into your house, drink your beer and ask you to drive them places. How can I say no though? In this neighbourhood you don’t want to get a reputation for being stuck up or unhelpful to others. Just now you have to slaughter a beast for some traditional do; and then? Who is going to help you; who is going to eat the beast; who is going to help you clean up afterwards? How will you get help to put up the tent - to close off the street? This is not some decision you make without careful consideration of your position.
Besides, I really feel bad about the poor woman lying in hospital without a change of nickers; but hell I really don’t want to leave this game, on my TV and listend to it on the car radio like the last time I had to drive that other woman to the Protea police station to go see what her son had done, when she knows well what the rascal gets up to all the time. So I tell Vuyo: look bra I don’t mind giving you the lift to Bara (lying through my teeth) but I can’t do it right now (meaning I don’t want to do it ever and I wish you would go back to where you came from) I mean you can see I am watching the game and you know how I feel about this - this is a big game, bra.
Vuyo says: aahh mfowethu ngiyakucela tuu . . . and I remember my grandmother saying: “kungathi ngikayikakela” (I felt like I could crap on myself) yes, believe it or not I was that livid!
