December 25, 2011, a scorching summer’s day in Zwelitsha, a small township in the Eastern Cape province of South Africa, is a day I’ll never forget; I was going to become a man.
After months of preparation – buying a cow to slaughter, blankets, traditional surgeon fees, overseer fees and building a reed hut – the day had finally arrived.
On this day, I woke up at the crack of dawn, my heart pounding heavily, nerves and fears of the unknown crept in. The elders came to fetch me at 5AM. I was stripped off my clothes, as I left everything behind, and covered in a white blanket with red stripes. We walked barefoot for about an hour to the mountain and my reed hut. This was home for the next three weeks.
Back home, my mother was as an emotional wreck. Who could blame her considering that almost all the news publications ran stories about the alarming death toll among initiates? Her son was going to spend three weeks in the rough bush after all. She prayed hard for a safe return.
I remember asking myself ‘what if I never return home?’. Having read so many stories about initiates dying, I thought it could happen to me. But it was all in the mind.
In isiXhosa we call it ulwaluko, a rite of passage to manhood. It’s a journey that is not easy.
It is done in two seasons, winter and summer, and it can be deadly. The first week is by no means easy, especially in summer, where initiates only eat half-boiled maize with no salt and no water. Dehydration is one of the reasons initiates die.
At the mountain, a surgeon, there for the removal of foreskins had a spear with sharp blades in hand. He tells me it won’t hurt if I cooperate.
“Sit down and open your legs apart,” he said, as a quick single cut from the spear removed my foreskin. I wasn’t allowed to make a sound, nor flinch, otherwise I’d be seen as a disgrace to the family.
As if this was not enough, more pain was in store.
Here, wounds are covered with a medicinal plant and bound with a leather thong around the waist. If I knew what I was getting myself into, I probably would have run.
The first seven days were hell; it was pain and hunger. I was so weak I could barely stand. I was given a stick and my body was smeared with wet clay and covered with a blanket. But the idea of being a man, kept me going.
The second week I began feeling better and getting used to life in the bush. I was even allowed to walk around and go to the river to get rid of boredom.
On the eve of my return home, friends came to visit.
In the morning, I had to run to the river to wash the clay off my body for the last time.
My brother covered my body in butter and blankets, leaving a hole for me to hold my stick. As my reed hut was set alight, I was not allowed to look back. I was told if I did I would have picked up all the bad luck.
Almost everyone was gathered at my house, as women ululated and beat corrugated iron with sticks. The celebrations carried on for two days.
After three weeks of pain, loneliness, and finally getting used to life in the bush, I was now a man. The seclusion and suffering taught me how to persevere in the face of hardship.

It’s Hard To Be  a Man In Africa

It was a usual Friday evening on July 1; I had just knocked off at work. Jersey City, in New York, was covered with American flags of all sizes, flying from car roofs, apartments and the front gardens of homes. Barely in sight in the morning, the red, white and blue flags suddenly mushroomed in my host city.
In the corridors of Forbes’ office, I overheard colleagues talking about their grand plans for the coming Independence Day long weekend – it meant nothing to me as a South African, I was just excited for the day off on Monday. I don’t hate my job, it’s just in a South African’s DNA to halt the capitalist machinery.
The South African public holiday on April 27, which marks the country’s first democratic elections in 1994, doesn’t have much significance to me nor my friends. We are happy to be duty free, unlike the careerist politicians who never miss the opportunity to sell empty dreams at rallies. While the voting fodder flocks into stadiums for a political party’s t-shirt or a small food pack, we catch up on household chores and a little fun later in the day. In the 22 years of this so-called freedom, I haven’t witnessed anything like the patriotism of the Americans.
Since 1776, without fail, over 300 million Americans still commemorate the Fourth of July, with pomp. On July 4, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was adopted, and the British Empire lost control of the 13 colonies that now make up part of the United States (US). Now, many countries were once colonized by the British Empire, but none come as close to celebrating their independence as the US. Sadly, independence didn’t apply to everyone; the US continued exploiting African slaves for a century. The country had now elevated itself to the colonizer until 1865, when slavery was abolished. Even this didn’t put an end to the lynching of African Americans. As a matter of fact, the brutality experienced by blacks is still pervasive today.
The longevity of the US independence can be attributed to John Adams, the lawyer and politician who would become president. While pleading with the larcenous British Empire, Adams penned a letter to his wife, Abigail, expressing his wish for independence.
“I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding generations, as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the day of deliverance by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shews, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires and illuminations from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more,” wrote Adams.
To this day, his wish lives on, Americans commemorate the day with barbeques, parades, and fireworks.
As I drew near to my apartment on that hot Friday’s night, looking forward to sundowners at Guillo’s Place, the local Mexican bar, there was a strange activity in the yard. My neighbors were out on the stoep having drinks.
They warmly invited me to their small soiree, but the sudden friendliness took me by surprise. I waited for two months to be invited for tea, but I was always the invisible African. I went up to my studio to grab the dusty bottle of South African dry red that was on top of my fridge.
From then, the long weekend was taken care of, with copious food and drink consumed, like the millions of other Americans. As America is going to the polls later this year, it was inevitable that politics was discussed. Despite voting in the New Jersey primaries, none of my new acquaintances were happy with Hilary Clinton nor Donald Trump. Who cares? At least they know who they are voting for. I am envious of their freedom to choose who can stand for president. I don’t see that happening in my homeland.
The long weekend culminated to the mother of all parties at 9PM on Monday. Even the rain couldn’t put a damper on the revellers that had gathered on Coles Street, in downtown Jersey City, nor the fireworks on the other side of the Hudson River in Manhattan.
Thanks to my neighbors, I didn’t miss Guillo’s tequila.

The Night African Wine Trumped Tequila

Any visitor to Palestine is guaranteed a few things. Delicious deep-fried balls of ground chickpeas inside pita bread, the call of the muezzin five times a day, a permeating strong smell of black coffee through a cacophony of hooting cars and shouting in Arabic. And getting lost.
Driving, especially through the bustling streets of the de facto capital Ramallah, is a nightmare. Not because the roads are particularly unsafe but because assistance comes in the form of no street names, no street signs and no house numbers. A colleague of mine spent the better part of a year paying the wrong electricity bill because, well, he couldn’t read Arabic and the bill kept arriving under his door. It turned out to be for another apartment in another street – neither his street nor apartment were named or numbered!
Only in the last seven years, following the Ramallah centenary celebrations, have street names caught on in the growing metropolis. Yasser Arafat, former chairman of the Palestine Liberation Organization, now has his square and dozens of Palestinian fighters have their streets. The criteria are simple – heroes, places and ideas supported by the Palestinian people.
So it’s no surprise that South African anti-apartheid icon Nelson Mandela has been given his spot – if anything, the  surprise is that it took so long. But residents say it was worth waiting for. The east of the city is now nestled in the shadow of Madiba’s towering figure – a six-meter, two-ton bronze statue with right fist raised.
The statue is the first of its kind outside South Africa and took artists Christina Salvodi, Lungisa Khala and Tanya Lee seven months to create – and another 30 days to get through Israeli customs. But that’s nothing, muses Ramallah’s Mayor Mussa Hadid, compared to the 27 years Mandela spent in prison.
“The erection of Mandela’s sculpture in Ramallah carries a symbolic significance,” he says. “Mandela was an international symbol of peace and a torch to people striving for freedom and liberty.”
A staunch supporter of the Palestinian struggle against Israel, Mandela once declared that, “We know too well that our freedom is incomplete without the freedom of the Palestinians.” It’s a view he repeated after warmly embracing Arafat in their first meeting in Zambia after his release in 1990.
“Like us, he is fighting against a unique form of colonization,” Mandela said of the Palestinian leader at the time, “and we wish him success in his struggle.”
Mandela is revered across the Arab and Palestinian world. The square now boasting his name is in a quiet part of the city and traffic here slows down to circle around his statue so drivers can get a good glance – looking upwards – of their hero. If you stand on tiptoes it’s almost possible to reach up high enough to touch his left hand.
Mamoun, a 19-year-old engineering student who lives not far from the now aptly renamed Mandela Square, exclaims, “He is our hero and it’s only right that a man who stood for the fight against oppression, now stands tall and proud in our city!”
Amira is another Ramallah resident who believes the square bearing Mandela’s name will become a major tourist attraction in her city.
“I am so excited that we have our own Mandela in Ramallah now,” she smiles. “Our struggle is like the struggle of South Africa – and hopefully he can watch over us just like he watched over his own people.”
Mandela’s relationship with Israel was more complicated. He was a firm supporter of the right of Jews to a national homeland, but he never forgot Israel’s support for the apartheid regime during the 1970s and 80s.
“We insist on the right of the State of Israel to exist within secure borders,” he remarked in 1993, but “with equal vigor” stressed support of “the Palestinian right to national self-determination.”
Mandela didn’t visit Israel during his presidency but agreed to receive an honorary doctorate from one of the country’s universities shortly after leaving office. He used the opportunity to impress upon the then newly elected Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Barak his concern about the conflict with the Palestinians and the failure of the Oslo peace process.
Israelis, like most people in the world, hold Mandela in high esteem but unsurprisingly, whereas the ceremony to unveil his statue in Ramallah received much attention in the South African and Palestinian press, it was hardly mentioned in the Israeli media.
Speaking at the inauguration, Johannesburg’s Mayor Parks Tau, who presented the statue as a gift from his city said, “Nelson Mandela himself would have been extremely proud of what has been done here today.”

Mandela Stands Tall Over People Fighting For Liberation

Champagne season is officially here. From now through the new year, you’ll likely be popping a few corks and spilling bubbly all over your carpet.
If you have been really nice (or really naughty) you might be lucky enough to spill some Krug. The LVMH-owned champagne from Reims, France, is regarded by many – including a few friends who work at competing liquor companies – to be the best champagne in the world. With that big a reputation comes a steep price, a bottle of Krug Grande Cuvée costs around $145.
When you’re spending that kind of dough on a bottle, you want to make sure you are serving it right. But with champagne, most of us are doing it wrong. Luckily, the United States Director of Krug, Carl Heline, met up with me at The Fat Radish in New York to share advice on how to drink champagne like a professional. Here are the essential tips:
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<h5>1) Safety first:</h5>
After you rip off the foil, keep the cage (the small wire thing) on the cork – even after you untwist the wire. Once you loosen the cage, make sure you keep one hand over the cork so it won’t accidentally pop off.
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<h5>2) Spin the bottle:</h5>
Don’t twist the cork. Instead take a tight grip of the cork (cage loosened, but still on) and twist the base of the bottle, this gives you a much better hold, until you slowly remove the cork. Heline adds that there’s no shame in popping corks; after all champagne is about fun &#8211; just don’t aim at someone’s head.
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<h5>3) Chill out, just not too much:</h5>
The ideal temperate to serve champagne is 50 degrees Fahrenheit (10ºC). Most of our refrigerators run at about 45 degrees (7ºC), so once you open a bottle, let it sit out in the open. Don’t drown it in a bucket of ice, the freezing temperatures lock up flavors.
<h5>4) Grip and rip:</h5>
Grip your hand around the base of the bottle – if your hands are too small you can press your thumb on the indent on the bottom – for good balance and tilt the glass at a 45-degree angle to pour the wine along the side of the glass, this reduces the foam.
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<h5>5) Say no to flutes:</h5>
Most places serve champagne in flutes – the glasses have cache and show off the bubbles well. The trouble is flutes are terrible for tasting the wine, the shape prevents enough oxygen from getting into the glass to open up the champagne and blocks the aromas from reaching your nose, which in turn limits the flavor. Heline uses glasses custom made for Krug. If you can’t find those, a simple white wine glass will do the trick.
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<h5>6) Sniff and sip:</h5>
Don’t be afraid to bury your nose in the glass before your first sip, so much of our taste comes from smell. Have a taste and note the flavor. After that gently swirl your glass on the table and taste again, noting the subtle flavors the swirling has released.
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<h5>7) Don’t over-think it:</h5>
Champagne is meant for celebrations, so relax and have a blast.
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Champagne Facts: 
The longest recorded flight of a champagne cork is over 54 meters. 
There are approximately 49 million bubbles in a standard sized bottle of champagne. 
Florescent light changes the flavour of champagne. 
“Dosage” is a measured quantity of sugar, wine and sometimes brandy added in the final step of champagne production, before bottling.

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Champagne 101:  How To Drink It Like A Pro

Gluttony and chocolate drive birthday parties, Valentine’s Day, Easter, Christmas and Halloween.
“All of our great celebrations of life are associated with chocolate,” says Carol Off, author of Bitter Chocolate: Investigating the Dark Side of the World’s Most Seductive Sweet.
Even three million tons of chocolate a year is not enough to satisfy the world’s voracious appetite. More than two thirds of it comes from Africa.
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The chocolate craze began with the harvesting of cocoa by 16th-century Spanish settlers in Central America, where it was discovered. Five hundred years later, West Africa grows 70% of the world’s cocoa. The industry is valued at $105 billion. The Ivory Coast, Ghana and Nigeria are the world’s three largest producers. The Ivory Coast produces 41% of the world’s cocoa. It grows around $1 billion worth annually.
For more than two million small-holder African cocoa farmers—90% of which are family-owned farms no bigger than 5 hectares—cocoa is life. Aside from this, the chocolate industry is fragile. Small farms often struggle against bad weather conditions, pests and disease, which can cut yields by 40% annually, according to the International Cocoa Organization (ICCO). Ecobank predicts that this year’s delayed, but good, rains in the Ivory Coast will boost mid-crop yield to 350,000 tons: a 10% increase compared to the last 10 years. Despite this good fortune, the people who grow the cocoa complain they are being squeezed.
“Cocoa farmers in West Africa receive between 3.5% and 6.4% of the final value of a chocolate bar (depending on the percentage cocoa content), whereas the manufacturer’s share has increased from 56% to 70% and the retailer’s share from 12% to 17%,” according to the Fairtrade Foundation. It campaigns for a bigger share for the growers.
The World Cocoa Foundation (WCF) launched the African Cocoa Initiative (ACI) in mid-March. It encourages profitable sustainability by equipping 100,000 cocoa famers, over five years, with farming and management skills. The ACI increases farmers’ revenues and helps to raise low yields. The foundation’s member companies—Barry Callebaut, Ferrero, Kraft Foods, Lindt &amp; Sprüngli, Mars and Nestlé—pay for it.
While the cocoa industry is lucrative, farmers in the Ivory Coast are being wooed by rubber. Cocoa farmers are replacing ageing plantations with rubber seedlings. Rubber—after around seven years—produces a monthly income, whereas the average cocoa tree bears 30 pods over two annual crops.  This is nearly enough to produce 1kg of dark chocolate, according to the Hershey Company.
Ghana, which meets 18% of the global demand, is the second-biggest supplier of cocoa. Author Carol Off traveled to Ghana to investigate the cocoa industry. She wrote of falling abusive labor practices and better healthcare. On the other side of the coin, cocoa farmers are also accused of reporting lower yields and hiding beans to raise the market price. Illegal smuggling between cocoa producing countries is also rumored.
The Ghanaian cocoa industry is regulated by Cocobod, which ensures a fixed price at the beginning of each season. If prices fluctuate during the season, farmers are paid the difference. Farmers sell their cocoa beans to licensed buying companies. This regulation ensures that high-quality Ghanaian cocoa beans are highly sought after.
There’s an apparent paradox: Africa is the world’s leading cocoa supplier, yet the top 10 confectionary companies are outside Africa; most are based in Europe and the United States. While the challenges of producing in Africa are plenty, so are the opportunities.
Afrotropic Cocoa Processing, a Ghanaian manufacturing company, grinds over 6,000 metric tons of local cocoa beans annually. It sells its products—cocoa liquor, cocoa butter and cocoa powder—to international food manufacturers. A large percentage of European chocolate is made from Ghanaian cocoa. Switzerland eats the most chocolate. World-famous companies like Cailler-Néstle, Toblerone, Lindt, Teuscher and Sprüngli call it home.
Kraft Foods is the world’s largest chocolate manufacturer, and has manufacturing plants in South Africa, Swaziland, Botswana, Kenya and Namibia. It is leading by example with commitments of $150 million towards investment in manufacturing facilities in the Southern Africa region over the next three years. Cadbury, owned by Kraft Foods, buys its cocoa beans from Ghana and Nigeria and manufactures in South Africa and Namibia. By 2015, Nestlé, the third largest manufacturer, will add five African factories to its already existing 28. A two-fold increase in its products, in the last few years, has made it more competitive.
These companies understand that this investment is a stepping-stone into African markets. What if chocolate brands like CÔte d’Or and Toblerone, both owned by Kraft Foods, were being made in Africa? This development of skilled jobs would help to alleviate poverty and possibly decrease the cost of production.
During the last decade, Africa has boasted a 5% annual growth. While the continent is open to industrial growth, it only accounts for 1% of global manufacturing. Africa is a fertile terrain for private-sector investments in industry and manufacturing, with small manufacturers going where multinationals fear to tread. Africa has the capacity to become a manufacturing powerhouse.
Madécasse chocolate is the proof. It has created jobs by producing chocolate in Madagascar. While problems with electricity and water persist, the company is training up a skilled workforce. Maybe investing in chocolate is as simple as spotting the obvious that everyone else misses.

Tag: Celebrations

FORBES AFRICA SOCIAL MEDIA

It’s Hard To Be a Man In Africa

The Night African Wine Trumped Tequila

Mandela Stands Tall Over People Fighting For Liberation

Champagne 101: How To Drink It Like A Pro

The World Eats: Africa Misses Out