May 8, a
landmark day for Africa’s second biggest economy. South Africans will cast
their votes for the country’s sixth general elections since the dawn of
democracy in 1994.



In the
run-up to the polls, the country saw flagrant protests in some parts, as disgruntled
citizens expressed disapproval of their stifling living conditions.&nbsp; 



In this
image, a resident of Alexandra, a township in the north of Johannesburg, squats
in the middle of a busy road leading to the opulent precincts of Sandton,
Africa’s richest square mile. &nbsp;



The
dichotomy of socio-economic circumstances is an accelerant in one of the
country’s poorest communities filled to the brim with squatter camps and the
restlessness of unemployment.

Poll Position: The South African 2019 Elections

One day, if they follow instructions, Africa’s new democracies will grow up to be “real” like those of Western Europe and North America. This assumption makes little sense – but it influences the way many people in the West and in Africa think about African democracies.



Challenging this myth is a central theme of my book Power in Action: Democracy, Citizenship and Social Justice, which has just been published by Wits University Press.



Over the past two decades, the book notes, democracy has blossomed in Africa: in 1990, the continent housed, at most, four democracies. Today, countries in which the government is not at least elected in a free vote in which opposition parties contest are a small minority. But there is still a deep-rooted feeling among Western academics, policymakers and journalists that African democracies are not yet “the finished product” – that they are still on their way to becoming full democracies.



This view gave birth to a field of academic study in the West – the search for “democratic consolidation”. It emerged because academics assumed that the new democracies were not yet “complete”, even though they called themselves democratic. And so they set out to discover whether democracies in Africa (and Asia and Latin America) were “consolidated”, which meant that they were the finished product.



The academics have never said how we would know a “complete” democracy when we saw one. They don’t have to – it is obvious from their writing that, to become the “finished article”, democracies have to become like those in the West.



The academics are reflecting a widely held view. Western governments that set out to make the world democratic were trying to “help” democracies outside the West to become just like those in it. European and US politicians who care about democracy elsewhere share this view. So do many Africans.



<h4>Colonial mindset</h4>



Academics on the African continent are keen to study whether their democracies are on the way to being “consolidated” and much commentary on the continent assumes that a “grown up” democracy looks like Britain, France or the US. This is particularly so in countries like South Africa which house a significant minority of people of Western origin, many of whom believe that the West is the home of civilisation to which the rest of the world should aspire.



This view has a distinctly colonial flavour. The moral excuse for colonialism was that it was bringing to the colonised “civilisation”, which meant whatever people in the colonising country valued. There is no difference between this and trying to persuade the formerly colonised that their democracies can only become “real” if they mimic those in the West.



But it makes very little sense to claim that Western democracies are the “finished product”.



First, Western democracies differ between themselves. So which version are people in Africa meant to mimic? Must their countries become unitary states like Britain or France, or federal like the US and Germany? Must African states give unions and business associations a say in decisions as Sweden, Austria and Switzerland have done? Must language or religious groups be allowed a special say as Belgium and Holland have done? It is not clear which of the many forms of Western democracy Africans are meant to want to be.



Second, the “finished products” of the West are not that finished. Britain has an unelected house of traditional leaders and clergy – the <a href="https://thewest.com.au/lifestyle/kids/responsible-government-westminster-system-explained-ng-b88525273z">House </a>of <a href="https://thewest.com.au/lifestyle/kids/responsible-government-westminster-system-explained-ng-b88525273z">Lords</a>. The US system allows the half million residents of one state to have the same say in the Senate as the 35 million of another. Several Western democracies detain suspects without trial – the US has done this for nearly two decades at Guantanamo Bay, far longer than South Africa’s apartheid state ever detained anyone without trial.



The media in several Western countries is judged by specialists to be less free than those in some non-Western democracies. To show the absurdity of claiming that Western democracies are always better, think what would happen if an African president was elected because he won the vote in a state where the voting machines were faulty and the governor was his brother? This happened in the US in 2000 – and no-one has declared it an “incomplete” democracy.



Third, the democratic idea is that every adult should have an equal say in the decisions which affect them. Where does that happen? Nowhere. So no democracy is a “finished product”. All fall short of the democratic goal and so Western democracies are no more real than those elsewhere. It also makes little sense to claim that one democracy is further down the road to “completion” than another – democracy has many aspects and on some, newer democracies outside the West are further down the road than those they are meant to want to be.



More people vote in some African countries than in some in the West. South Africa does more to promote women’s participation than most Western countries. A study of Botswana complained that its people did not value democracy because only 45% of voters knew the name of their member of Parliament – but the equivalent figure in Sweden was only 33% and several other European countries lagged far behind Botswana, whose voters are better informed than Swedes.



<h4>Inferiority complex</h4>



In sum, the democratic inferiority complex of many Africans is unwarranted. The idea that our democracies are “B Grade” and those of the West are prime quality is false.



None of this means that African democracies are better than those in the West. It means that the idea of “real” and “not yet real” democracies expresses a colonial mentality, not reality.



Like all democracies, Africa’s have much room for improvement. But they will never become what they could be if they struggle to become a copy of a romanticised Western democracy. Africa’s democracies will progress if they concentrate on the core democratic principle – giving more and more people a say over more and more issues – and debate how to do that in their particular conditions. -The Conversation



-Steven Friedman: Professor of Political Studies, University of Johannesburg



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SAFRICA-POLITICS-ZUMA

The Claim That Democracy Fares Better in the West Than in Africa Is a Fallacy

On the cards this year? More polls, power struggles and ambitious projects.



<hr class="wp-block-separator"/>



Whichever way one looks at it, 2019 promises Africa a spot
in the limelight like no other.



A record 22 countries, almost half of the continent, will be
asking their citizens for fresh mandates to rule democratically, according to
the Electoral Institute for Sustainable Democracy in Africa. 



By any measure, it’s a big number of politicians submitting
themselves to the will of the people, especially given Africa’s past struggles
with coups and the rule of law.



Whether those polls are conducted freely and fairly is the
next stage in the continent’s drive to improve governance. The Democratic
Republic of the Congo, Africa’s largest country, started the year rolling with
a disputed election that may yet see an historic transfer of power from one
civilian administration to another.



READ MORE | <a href="https://www.forbesafrica.com/focus/2019/02/10/the-claim-that-democracy-fares-better-in-the-west-than-in-africa-is-a-fallacy/" target="_blank" rel="noreferrer noopener" aria-label="The Claim That Democracy Fares Better in the West Than in Africa Is a Fallacy (opens in a new tab)">The Claim That Democracy Fares Better in the West Than in Africa Is a Fallacy</a>



It’s a step seen in only a handful of African countries
since independence in the 1960s, with the likes of Ghana, Kenya and Nigeria,
among others, managing the feat as leaders clung to power by all means
necessary including vote-rigging, outright violence against political opponents
and coups.



The continent’s largest economies, Nigeria and South Africa,
will be among the first to kick-start the process with Nigerians getting the
chance to hand President Muhammadu Buhari another term or hand power to Atiku
Abubakar, a former vice president who was part of Buhari’s alliance when he
first ran in 2015.



In South Africa, expectations are President Cyril
Ramaphosa’s African National Congress will be returned to power with a bigger
mandate. 



Elsewhere around the continent, votes are expected in
countries ranging from Chad to Somaliland but the chances of opposition
victories remain few and far between even as the continent battles a host of
problems from sub-par economic growth to growing indebtedness, particularly to
China.



The World Bank estimates Africa’s economy will grow by 3.6%
this year, but that growth rate masks huge disparities between nations and is
only slightly ahead of its population growth rate of just above 2.5% per annum,
the fastest in the world.



In the meantime, many of its economies are sinking further into debt, just a few years after debt relief that spurred some of the fastest growth the continent had seen in years. 



A 2018 World Bank list of the most indebted countries has South Africa’s 55 million people carrying $792 billion of foreign and local debt, followed by Sudan at $528 billion and Egypt with $299 billion.



But it is the growing debt of some of Africa’s poorest
countries that is beginning to raise concern again. The Overseas Development
Institute last year warned that 40% of sub-Saharan African countries were in
danger of slipping into a debt crisis, adding to warnings by the International
Monetary Fund.



Analysis shows that a fifth of the external debt is held by
China, with another 35% held by multilateral organizations like the World Bank
and another 32% held by private investors. And some of those countries may
begin struggling to pay those loans, according to analysts.



So while there is much to look forward to in 2019, Africa
collectively has lots to do. One ray of hope, is coming from an unlikely
source, the Africa Union (AU). For years, the successor of the Organization of
African Unity has largely remained a political talk-shop, attended mostly by
politicians.



But the last few years have seen change, with economics
beginning to become an integral part of its conversations, culminating in the
launch of the African Continental Free Trade Area last year, an ambitious plan
tying up the continent from the Cape to Cairo.



Building on to that project, was the African Import-Export
Bank, which collaborated with the AU to organize the Intra-African Trade Fair,
the first continent-wide marketplace for goods and services which attracted 42
countries to Cairo, saw some 1,100 exhibitors and more than $33 billion in
deals concluded.&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; 



If that’s a harbinger of continental resolve to work together, Africa may yet be the place to be in 2019.



Education Quality and the Youth Skills Gap Are Marring Progress in Africa



-Godfrey Mutizwa

NIGERIA-VOTE

2019: Africa’s Year In The Sun

November 2017 will go down in the history of Zimbabwe as the beginning of the end of Robert Mugabe’s <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2017/11/14/tanks-seen-heading-towards-zimbabwe-capital-harare/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">37 year tyranny</a>. A tumultuous week finally culminated in <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-42071488" target="_blank" rel="noopener">his resignation</a> on November 21st. One cannot understate the widespread jubilation at the demise of Mugabe and his desire to create a dynasty for himself <a href="https://www.dailystar.co.uk/news/world-news/660122/Zimbabwe-news-Robert-Mugabe-Grace-Zanu-PF-Twitter-latest-situation-coup-Emmerson-Mnangagwa" target="_blank" rel="noopener">through his wife Grace</a>.
But the optimism is misplaced because it doesn’t deal directly with the dearth of democracy in Zimbabwe.
First, contrary to popular sentiment that the coup was meant to usher in a new era of political <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-42035981" target="_blank" rel="noopener">liberalisation and democracy</a>, the takeover is actually meant to deal with a succession crisis in Zanu-PF. The military made this clear when it said that it was dealing with <a href="http://www.aljazeera.com/news/2017/11/zimbabwe-military-statement-seizing-power-171115061457199.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener">criminals around Mugabe</a>. And the party’s secretary for legal affairs Patrick Chinamasa indicated that removing Mugabe from the party’s Central Committee was an <a href="http://www.thezimbabwemail.com/politics/dont-need-opposition-zanupf-business-chinamasa/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">internal party matter</a>.
Secondly, I would argue that the military resorted to a “smart coup” only after its preferred candidate to succeed Mugabe, Emmerson Mnangagwa, was fired from the party and government.
The way in which the military has gone about executing its plan upends any conventional understanding of what constitutes a coup d&#8217;etat. It’s a “smart coup” in the sense that the military combined the frustrations of a restive population, internal party structures and international sympathy to remove a sitting president. It thereby gained legitimacy for an otherwise partisan and unconstitutional political act – toppling an elected government.
This begs the question: Is the military now intervening for the collective good or for its own interests?
<a href="http://www.forbesafrica.com/politics/2017/11/17/mnangagwa-military-may-mean-bad-news-zimbabwe/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">READ MORE: Mnangagwa and the military may mean more bad news for Zimbabwe</a>
<h2>Why the military intervened</h2>
It is baffling to imagine how the military has suddenly become the champion of democracy and regime change in Zimbabwe.
It’s clear that what motivated the military commanders was a fear of losing their jobs and influence after their preferred successor was purged. They launched a preemptive strike against Mugabe to safeguard their own selfish interests as a military class and the future of their careers.
Given the symbiotic relationship between the Zimbabwean military and the ruling Zanu-PF party, it was inevitable that the top commanders would be embroiled in the party’s succession crisis. After all, the military has been the key lever behind the power of both Mugabe and his ruling Zanu-PF since 1980.
In the past they have acted as part of the Zanu-PF machinery, openly <a href="https://www.hrw.org/report/2008/06/09/bullets-each-you/state-sponsored-violence-zimbabwes-march-29-elections" target="_blank" rel="noopener">campaigning for Mugabe</a> alongside other security agencies.
And they have played a key role in neutralising political opponents. Back in the 1980s the military was responsible for the massacre of thousands of civilians and Zapu supporters in <a href="https://archive.org/stream/BreakingTheSilenceBuildingTruePeace/MatabelelandReport_djvu.txt." target="_blank" rel="noopener">Matabeleland</a>. More than two decades later in 2008 they were responsible for the torture, death and disappearance of 200 opposition activists and the <a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/africaandindianocean/zimbabwe/2170138/Zimbabwe-Death-toll-rises-in-Robert-Mugabes-reign-of-terror-before-election.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener">maiming of hundreds more</a>.
In addition, <a href="http://www.securitycouncilreport.org/atf/cf/%7B65BFCF9B-6D27-4E9C-8CD3-CF6E4FF96FF9%7D/DRC%20S%202001%20357.pdf" target="_blank" rel="noopener">the UN</a> has implicated Mnangagwa and the generals in the illegal plundering of resources in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. They have also been fingered in the disappearance of diamond revenues from Zimbabwe’s Marange <a>diamond fields</a>.
On top of this the military and Zanu-PF share a special relationship that has its roots in the liberation struggle. The Zimbabwe African National Union (Zanu) was the political wing of the Zimbabwe African National Liberation Army (Zanla) during the liberation war. They therefore have vested interests in the survival of the party.
After independence, the relationship remained intact as the military became the <a href="http://bulawayo24.com/index-id-opinion-sc-columnist-byo-86814.html" target="_blank" rel="noopener">guarantors of the revolution</a>. Some of the same surviving commanders of Zanla are still senior high ranking officials. The commanders are also bona fide members of the ruling party and guarantors of Zanu-PF power.
The same securocrats are also members of the Zimbabwe National Liberation War Veterans Association. This quasi paramilitary group is an auxiliary association of the ruling party and has fiercely opposed Mugabe’s attempt to create a dynasty.
<a href="http://www.forbesafrica.com/politics/2017/11/21/lessons-south-africas-jacob-zuma-robert-mugabes-misfortunes/" target="_blank" rel="noopener">READ MORE: Lessons for South Africa&#8217;s Jacob Zuma in Robert Mugabe&#8217;s misfortunes</a>
<h2>Military must step aside</h2>
Zimbabwe goes to the polls next July to choose a new president and parliament. The elections – if conducted in a credible way – will provide the next government with the legitimacy it needs to take the country out of its political and economic crises.
Now that Mugabe has resigned the hope is that the military will allow a genuinely democratic transition to take place. All political players, including opposition parties, would need to be incorporated into a broad-based transitional authority pending credible elections.
But for the elections to be credible, the transitional authority would need urgently to reform the electoral system. This would ensure Zimbabweans can freely and fairly choose their leaders. Without this, peace and prosperity will continue to elude Zimbabwe.
In the long run, the military would do well to get out of politics instead of continuing to view itself as “stockholders” in the country’s political affairs because of its liberation struggle credentials. &#8211; <a href="https://theconversation.com/profiles/enock-c-mudzamiri-192098" target="_blank" rel="author noopener">Enock C. Mudzamiri</a>, DLitt et DPhil Student in Politics, University of South Africa
Originally published in <a href="https://theconversation.com/africa" target="_blank" rel="noopener">The Conversation</a>
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Zimbabwe beware: the military is looking after its own interests, not democracy

As democracy gradually spread around the world, capitalism was favored over the more repressive feudal system. It meant that those who were not born of royalty, nor had genetic ties to nobles, could amass their own fortunes through innovation, hard work, perseverance and a bit of luck. It finally meant that peasants could elevate themselves from the depths of poverty to unfathomable heights of wealth.
Many would argue that there has never been an economic system in modern civilization that has liberated more people from poverty and created more millionaires and billionaires than capitalism. However, in some circles, particularly among the socialists and labor unions, there is an argument that this wealth has been accumulated through the exploitation of others. They argue that the bearers of capital offer workers lower than acceptable compensation and they in turn receiving preposterous amounts in profits.
We ought to bear in mind that no one is forced to work; every individual in the free world has the choice to be a part of the labor market and join an organization to work for in exchange for remuneration. A major proponent of capitalism is that it provides an environment for entrepreneurship. After all, all the colossal corporations of the past two centuries started small and over time grew. Today, they consistently post higher annual earnings than the entire GDP of smaller nations.
At the helm of capitalism lies the CEO, the captains who steer their companies. CEOs bring vast knowledge and experience to the party – many having studied in some of the most prestigious universities and business schools around the world.
The reality is that the CEO has one of the most challenging jobs. They are tasked with the laborious task of driving revenue for shareholders; representing the firm as its head; ensuring that all the divisions of the company function effectively, notwithstanding defining the corporate culture of the firm and instilling it in its employees.
Then there’s the socialist ideology that affirms that capitalism is a modern form of slavery masqueraded as the archetype economic system that was founded in principle on human liberty. Evidence has shown that socialist states have failed to address inequality and have compounded the issue by creating elitist factions who benefit at the expense of the majority.   It is almost paradoxical that CEOs are viewed as employees of the organization when there is a level of self-interest at play. CEOs are often granted equity in the firms they represent as a part of their remuneration packages. They then have the added incentive to protect their stake by enacting management policies and tactics that will drive profitability, sometimes at the expense of the ordinary worker. The mining sector is a prime example: when the price of commodities such as gold and platinum rises, the shareholders benefit from the increase in profits. However, when demand subsides and prices fall job cuts become the order of the day.
Several years ago, my management lecturer said the compensation that CEOs receive ought to be globally competitive.
“Great CEOs are in high demand and as such their remuneration should reflect this, but more importantly should perturb them from seeking better opportunities abroad.”
This is the world that the capitalist system has created. Instead of asking whether it is fair that CEOs earn vast amounts of money compared to others, the question should be whether this system of self-interest masqueraded as capitalism is one that is just and equitable, especially in South Africa, where there are skewed levels of income between low-income and high-income households.
Despite capitalism’s faults, there has never been a system that comes closer to benefitting all. Until such a system is conceptualized, we will continue to debate the exorbitant salaries of CEOs and why capitalism continues to fail us.

equity and  equality

Denis Goldberg, who faced death with Nelson Mandela in the 1964 Rivonia Trial, was in a TV studio in London commenting on the great man’s release from prison.
Goldberg was released before the others after 22 years.
“I was absolutely confident that I was the start of a process. I wanted to be out to play a role in the liberation of South Africa. I was tired of being a symbol locked up in prison and I thought the time had come to move things along. There was the offer of releases and unconditionally releases, I decided to accept because I didn’t want PW Botha’s offer in 1985 just to evaporate into thin air, he made the offer out of weakness not strength, that’s the important part,” says Goldberg.
“I was able to tell the story of how the day we were sentenced, the head of the prison security said we should have been hanged and will never walk out of prison on our own two feet; they’d carry us out in a coffin. And then Nelson Mandela stopped the car he was in and he and his then wife Winnie Mandela walked out holding their hands into freedom, and the rest is history. I was able to tell that story. We survived and the old security colonel had passed away.”
Goldberg has many memories of Mandela but one that sticks in the mind is their first encounter after prison.
“He said to me, ‘hello boy it’s been a long time. He always called me boy because I was so much younger then he was. It was very sweet and touching. I also remember a bit later when we met again in Sweden, my wife and my daughter had to meet him. He greeted my wife rather stiffly not knowing who she is and when I introduced her, he bent down from his great height and whispered to her, ‘the boy is looking good you must be looking after him very well.’”
Zakhe Khuzwayo, Group CFO of InnoVent, was 14 years old and at boarding school at Hilton College in Pietermaritzburg. The school was dismissed early so they could watch Mandela’s first walk as a free man.
“The man was an enigma, I think I had seen a photograph of him when I was younger, I didn’t know what to expect. I guess it was more exciting and anxiety to see who this guy is and see what he actually looks like,” says Khuzwayo.
Twenty five years later, Khuzwayo runs his own company and enjoys much of the freedom ushered in by the release of Mandela.
“His role was instrumental in what this country actually became,”
says Khuzwayo.
Political analyst Thapelo Tselapedi was four years old in 1990 and remembers the humble Toyota Cressida that Mandela rode through Cape Town in. He also remembers seeing the man in the flesh four years later.
“In 1994, when I was eight, we went to the Mafikeng stadium where he was speaking. After he spoke, my sister ran to him to him to try and get an autograph. Nelson Mandela was surrounded by his bodyguards and my brother and I tried to go in and get an autograph but we couldn’t. My sister was the only one who managed to get one. She got in, got her autograph, he shook her hand and then she got out. I was sad that I couldn’t break through, but my sister always kept that autograph in her room, it was very nice,” recalls Tselapedi.
A quarter of a century later, his feelings are bittersweet.
“Sweet because he has to do the impossible to calm down black people but at the same it seemed to not have been enough as it was limited by the interests that the white people had also wanted, he had to find a home for everyone and that meant compromise. The bittersweet part is characterized by where black people are now versus where white people are.”
Like Tselapedi, Goldberg has his opinions.
“I am still optimistic but I am also distressed. I am optimistic because we have achieved so much despite our weakness, despite the legacy of apartheid leaving us with an inadequate civil service, with half the population illiterate, half the population unemployed and we’ve come a long way since then and the conditions of people have undoubtedly improved. My sadness is the corruption and what I call the patronage society,” says Goldberg.
The man who stared down death with Mandela feels his country has a long way
to go.

‘I Am Still Optimistic But  I Am Also Distressed’

At the well-attended launch of her book Good Morning, Mr Mandela in Johannesburg in June, Zelda la Grange, Nelson Mandela’s trusted aide who he called ‘Zeldina’, was introduced “as the person who walked in the same steps as one of the greatest legends”. Archbishop Desmond Tutu said in a televized message on the occasion: “Your utter devotion to Madiba was so obvious to anyone…In many ways, it was a symbol of hope for the new relationships in our country.”
La Grange says ‘Khulu’ (grandfather) or Madiba always knew she would write a book. The Afrikaner, who was brought up in apartheid South Africa, started as a typist in the office of the first democratically elected South African President in 1994 at the age of 23, going on to work with Mandela in various capacities for 19 years. She started penning down her thoughts in 2009, “not for the purpose of it becoming a book, but to offload memories”.
“It’s a personal memoir and I want people to read the book and be inspired by my change,” said la Grange, ahead of the launch, when we caught up with her for more:
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Can you describe your first meeting with
Madiba in 1994 at the Union Buildings?
I bumped into him, he extended his hand and I said ‘Good morning, Mr Mandela’. That was the turning point of my life.
He broke all my defenses. I was brought up to believe this person is my enemy, and when he spoke to me in Afrikaans, I felt guilty and started crying. I felt responsible, that my people and I were brought up to believe that he is the enemy. And yet you can see the sincerity on his face, his smile; and [I was thinking] why was I so afraid of him. It was in complete contrast to what I expected and I cried. He told me at that first meeting I was overreacting.
Did you draw any criticism in the early years when working for him?
At first, there was a lot of criticism within his own political circles, about why he chose a white woman. He was very careful to relate that story to me at first, knowing I was sensitive and after a while, he would joke about it. He would repeat the entire conversation and say: “Can you believe they would say this?”
It also provided people with entertainment. Madiba’s and my sense of humor had a strange similarity; so we would joke about even these things. He was always looking for humor in any situation. There is nothing laughable about being in prison for 27 years, but he was always trying to find the lighter side of things.
Did he ever get angry?
He had vices and virtues like everyone else. He was a very determined, almost hotheaded person. You couldn’t sway him once he decided something. You knew not to mess with him when he was angry. [But] Madiba didn’t hold grudges, he would get over something very quickly but you would know exactly how he felt. If you look at the CODESA negotiations, he was really angry at F.W. de Klerk at some point – the photographers managed to capture his body language beautifully. He managed to change the narrative. He always had this mindset of reconciliation, of unity, and there was a strategy behind whatever he did.
How was the transition once he retired from the Presidency?
The morning after his retirement was quite a wakeup call. We thought we would pretty much have access to state resources, and we could rely on certain things from the government, but any retiring head of state is in for a full surprise. We had no media protocol, no foreign affairs – all of that was gone.
You have traveled widely with him. Any memories?
I am reminded of our visit to Iran, during President Khatami’s presidency. In the book, you will see how important women’s empowerment is for Madiba. He insisted on me going to the palace where women are not allowed. So we went to dinner at the President’s residence, and there were only male bodyguards and security. I was fighting off photographers, as Madiba’s eyes were sensitive to flashlights. I tried staying in the back so not to offend anybody with my presence. It was very noticeable I was the only female there. A butler then sent for me, and Madiba said, “Oh Zeldina, the President wants to have supper with you.” The whole time, the President asked about South Africa, and Madiba would not answer; so I had to speak. I was put on the spot.
Did you get to spend enough time with him in the final years?
The later years, from 2008, when he started slowing down, he stopped all public appearances and meetings. There was no business any longer to discuss. I tried to go once a week to Qunu [to meet him], more on a personal basis.
How did you come to terms with his passing?
Those ten days of the funeral, I will never want to relive again. You have to deal with the outpouring of emotions from the outside world, and you don’t have time to deal with your own emotions. I still find myself thinking, has it really happened, is he really not there anymore? I have never lost anyone close to me. I am very fortunate. Both my parents are still alive. This is a very new experience for me.
Are you still in touch with
Graça Machel?
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I am very close to her. She is true to her name; she epitomizes grace and strength and has been an emotional stronghold for all of us, through his illness. She was not there only for Madiba, but for us as well.
What kind of work are you
involved in now?
I am still contracted with the Nelson Mandela Foundation; at present [I take part in] leadership courses for the foundation, and I do a bit of motivational speaking, just telling people my story and conveying the lessons I have learnt.
Did you ever think you put your life on hold?
I think I have gained so much, and have been so exceptionally privileged that I wouldn’t say I put my life on hold really. It evolved into something greater. My working hours were nonstop. When Madiba was President, he would call at 2AM and say, can you get hold of Minister Trevor Manuel? I didn’t go for a movie for 10 years. I was too scared he would call and I wouldn’t be able to help him.
You were very special to him?
It would be incorrect to say I was the only one, or the special one. There were other people who played vital roles in his life. My role was confined to his public life, so people need to see it in the context of my duties.

How Madiba Changed Me

The Mandela Moment
It was Winnie Mandela’s first public appearance after the death of her former husband Nelson Mandela in December. Arriving at Orlando High School, she was welcomed by cheering crowds, African National Congress officials and photographers as she made her way through the gates ahead of the line and into the voting station. Mandela, seen here with South Africa’s Minister of Mineral Resources Susan Shabangu, left as quickly as she came, rushing off to Bekkersdal, where incidents of violence had been reported on the eve of the elections.
‘My Vote Is My Vision’
Twenty-year-old Bridgette Mashile cast her vote at Jules High School.
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“I just couldn’t wait to mark ‘X’ on the ballot paper because I already knew which political party I was voting for when the day finally came. Voting for the very first time has really had an impact on my life. The ink on my finger is good proof that I am now old enough to make my own decisions, especially how I would like my country to be run.”
For Madiba’s Legacy
The fact that she is blind did not stop 52-year-old Elizabeth Malebo of Alexandra township from participating. Malebo is grateful for the social grant she receives every month.
“Before 1994, black people were deprived of so many opportunities but the people who suffered the most were those living with disability like me.  I will continue to vote in honor of Madiba’s legacy.”
Grateful For Democracy
Patricia Abrahams, 53, has never missed a chance to vote in the past 20 years and is grateful for the opportunities of democracy.
“It is always the thought of the sacrifices of our late president, Nelson Mandela, that encourages me to vote. Apartheid had deprived us of the opportunities we now enjoy. I live in a previously so-called ‘white neighborhood’, an opportunity my parents’ generation never experienced. As an arthritis patient, I have the right to better medical treatment at any hospital without being discriminated.”
The Mandela Moment
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It was Winnie Mandela’s first public appearance after the death of her former husband Nelson Mandela in December. Arriving at Orlando High School, she was welcomed by cheering crowds, African National Congress officials and photographers as she made her way through the gates ahead of the line and into the voting station. Mandela, seen here with South Africa’s Minister of Mineral Resources Susan Shabangu, left as quickly as she came, rushing off to Bekkersdal, where incidents of violence had been reported on the eve of the elections.
‘My Vote Is My Vision’
Twenty-year-old Bridgette Mashile cast her vote at Jules High School.
“I just couldn’t wait to mark ‘X’ on the ballot paper because I already knew which political party I was voting for when the day finally came. Voting for the very first time has really had an impact on my life. The ink on my finger is good proof that I am now old enough to make my own decisions, especially how I would like my country
to be run.”
For Madiba’s Legacy
The fact that she is blind did not stop 52-year-old Elizabeth Malebo of Alexandra township from participating. Malebo is grateful for the social grant she receives every month.
“Before 1994, black people were deprived of so many opportunities but the people who suffered the most were those living with disability like me.
I will continue to vote in honor of Madiba’s legacy.”
The Art Of War 2.0
In the run-up to the recent South African elections, social media emerged a winner.
When Sun Tzu penned The Art of War, he probably had South Africa’s 20th democratic elections in mind. Never has the importance of military positioning been more important. Forget the rallies, the posters, the promises and speeches that either roused emotion deep in our bellies or left us reaching for the mute button. This war was not just about these traditional weapons of battle but for the first time saw political parties enter the social media ring in a fight for followers, likes, and retweets.
The dust has now settled. The bruised, the battered, and the victorious have claimed their places. South African political parties have certainly latched onto the hype of social media with the top four performers in the election, the African National Congress, Democratic Alliance, Economic Freedom Fighters and Inkatha Freedom Party, all ramping up their online artillery in the build-up to the elections.
The social media whirlwind has been an unmatched phenomenon that has changed electioneering tactics forever. It’s hard to believe that in 2007, when Barack Obama first made his presidential intentions known, iPhones did not exist, Twitter was the new cool kid on the block and Facebook had a mere 50 million users. It shouldn’t come as a surprise then that the ‘twittersphere’ has proven to be a reflection of national opinion and that Facebook has become the go-to space to talk party policies and how they are intended to shape our future.
South African political parties have woken up to the fact that in addition to posting the last weekend’s party photos, young people are gravitating to social media to voice their political opinions. The unwritten rules of the social media game open up a space for peer-to-peer engagement (arguably the most effective tool of influence), where the playing field is leveled in 140 characters, and where thought-leadership is not the preserve of a handful of insiders.
For the technophobes who haven’t embraced social media yet, consider this: Johannesburg has the highest number of Twitter users in Africa. South Africa has consistently recorded on average 100,000 new Twitter users every month in the past three years. In the 2008 elections, Obama claimed 70% of all the votes of people under the age of 25. According to the United Nations Population Fund, 88% of young people in South Africa have access to a landline, a mobile phone, or the Internet. You do the math. Social media in electioneering has very little to do with technology and everything to do with social behavior.
Like a first date, our political parties’ soirée with social media has been hesitant and somewhat cautious. As we build up to 2019, political parties that are the keenest to get to second and third base will be building their social media budgets, finding the right expertise, and ultimately claiming more virtual and ballot box votes.

The Poll Picture

It’s 6:30 on an early winter morning. Eighty-year-old Josiah Mmutlwatse, watches a heavy police and army contingent roaming near his home. In Bekkersdal, a township south west of Johannesburg, the foggy air is filled with the smell of the previous night’s charred remains. It is election day in South Africa and the mood is tense.
On the eve of elections, the unrest in Bekkersdal resumed; with three polling stations torched by angry residents. The spontaneous violence began months before. This turbulent township, near the gold mines of the West Rand, has seen a string of unabated service delivery protests. As the elections drew closer, protests intensified with threats to disrupt the polls.
But none of this could deter pensioner Mmutlwatse, who at the crack of dawn was the first in the queue at his polling station. He has never missed an opportunity to cast his vote since the first democratic elections in 1994.
The former bus driver patiently waits for the Independent Electoral Commission (IEC) personnel to erect a marquee to be used as a polling station. Thirty minutes later, he is pleased to have exercised his democratic right to elect his government.
Although his allegiance still lies with the ruling African National Congress (ANC), Mmutlwatse hopes these polls will bring some much-needed change.
“I voted for the liberation party as always – ANC. It set us free from apartheid. It is hope for our children. Since we have voted, we want the elected people, even president (Jacob) Zuma, to listen to our cries. Our votes should not be blank cheques.”
Last year, Nomvula Mokonyane, the premier of Gauteng, raised the ire of Bekkersdal residents when she said the ANC does not need the residents’ dirty votes. Mokonyane was responding to threats that they would boycott the elections if service delivery was not improved.
“I am hurt by the unrest the dissenting youth brought, some people are not appreciative of our hard-earned freedom to vote. The government has a big task ahead. It must be explained to them that our democracy did not come on a silver platter. People died for it. It is not for sale.”
Mmutlwatse has lived in the township for more than fifty years, coming from the nearby farms. He rented a backyard room for a year before he could secure a four-room home in 1950, where he still lives with his three daughters. Out of his seven children, they are the only ones still alive.
“It was the first time I felt I had some dignity. If you have a house of your own, where your children could call home, no matter the size, it is freedom.”
A lack of housing and the high rate of unemployment are challenges that the youth in the area must face, says Mmutlwatse. The majority are shack dwellers.
Though Mmutlwatse owned a house for many years, he says the ANC-led government made him feel it was really his own when he received the title deed a decade ago. But he acknowledges that Bekkersdal is a far cry from a functional area.
He knows the community inside out and in the past used his old minibus to transport people, sometimes for free. He was like a godfather to the younger generation.
“Education should be the priority here. We understand the youth is not up in arms for no reason, they are frustrated by the government’s empty promises. I watch them roaming streets. They are not at school and many are unemployed,” he says.
While Mmutlwatse remains optimistic, his community still needs some convincing.
Twenty six kilometres away in Soweto, Happy Phiri, a reformed convict turned entrepreneur, is satisfied with the progress the government has made so far.
“I could not miss this one because I value voting. It’s something many South Africans were denied for many years. I spent 14 years in prison and the time spent there robbed me of certain things, including voting,” says Phiri.
Phiri, a 48-year-old father of three, was up at 3AM, two hours earlier than usual to make sure he didn’t miss casting his vote before he went to his workshop where he manufactures candles. On this day, he had an order for a hundred candles for a Mother’s Day event at a local church.
Phiri turned his life around when he joined the non-governmental organization NICRO while incarcerated. He left Mangaung Prison in 2010, trained as a candle maker.
With three years in business, Phiri has employed three people and bought a delivery van and equipment worth almost R100,000 ($9,600).
Bekkersdal’s very own Arab Spring will not die as the elections end; a politician just has to take a stroll through the run-down streets to realize this.
<h4>Red Berets And Tears</h4>
It was a record turnout for a South African election. More than 18 million voted in a poll on May 7 that threw up more than a few surprises.
It was one of those rare elections where the big story was not how much the ruling party gained, but how much it lost. The result was never in doubt, neither was the protest vote that hundreds of thousands of disgruntled South Africans cast.
In the end, the African National Congress (ANC) stormed home losing a lot less support than many of their supporters feared. It leaves the ruling party short of the two thirds majority, which gives it greater parliamentary powers, but it virtually assures control of South Africa until at least 2019, maybe beyond. It also assures that economic policy is likely to remain with few radical measures required to recover disgruntled supporters. The word among party insiders at the Independent Electoral Commission (IEC) in Pretoria – the election nerve center – was that, if anything, government policy is likely to move more in favor of the free market as the money men around the world appear to have said all bets are off if there is a threat of socialism and nationalization.
Both are flaunted, like battle flags, by the young turks of the Economic Freedom Fighters (EFF). In many ways, the EFF was the story of this election. The party was formed in October, when red bereted leader, Julius Malema, a disgruntled and belligerent former ANC loyalist, decided to give his old employers one in the eye. The idea was to take the high moral ground of socialism and power to the people that helped sweep the ANC to power in the first elections 20 years ago. It appears to have worked for the EFF, who, from a standing start gathered more than a million votes. It means Malema and 24 red bereted new menbers will sit in Parliament in Cape Town this year. It may spice up proceedings.
But the EFF may take heed of a cautionary tale from another opposition party, COPE. In 2009, COPE, also peopled by disgruntled former ANC members, garnered a stunning 1.3 million votes in its first tilt at the polls. This year, COPE got a mere 100,000 votes, less than 1%. Will EFF be able to cope in 2019?
“This isn’t the end of COPE,” says spokesman Johann Abrie. Really?
Agang – the party founded by Mamphela Ramphele and promising a new tomorrow – may rue its decision to fight the polls. It was humbled and ended up with two lousy seats.
The Democratic Alliance, taking years to shrug off its image as a white middle-class party, made more solid gains.
“We gain 3% every time around, then we cry for five years and try again,” says a DA loyalist.
That means maybe our grandchildren will witness the inauguration of the first DA president of South Africa. In a decade, or two, of power the DA too could be criticized by voters for being an out-of-touch incumbent that thinks it owns the country. Maybe?
The path of democracy was far from smooth in South Africa. There were threats and arrests in Alexandra, in Johannesburg, after fighting between rival parties. Voters in the tiny farming town of Tzaneen, in Limpopo, stormed  a voting station and damaged it. Two people were shot, one dead, in KwaZulu Natal.
Elsewhere, a ballot box was found dumped on a roadside and a school storing ballot papers was broken into. These will be investigated by the IEC as it prepares for the 2019 election.
“These remain isolated incidents that we are taking very seriously. We can all agree the process is going well and we can be proud of our nation and our democracy,” says Pansy Tlakula, the head of the IEC.

Hope Dawns After  A Night Of Flames

South Africa’s youth represent around a third of the country’s population. Young people are the future; they are a national resource and a source of renewal.
The country’s 20-year-old democracy includes ‘born frees’, referring to the generation born after the apartheid era ended in 1994. They have only known a free South Africa. It is estimated that just over 600,000 South Africans were born the year the African National Congress (ANC) came to power. The polls will determine a new National Assembly as well as new legislatures in each of the country’s nine provinces. As per the website of the Electoral Commission of South Africa (IEC), there are about 700,000 registered male and female voters in the 18-19 age group.
There has been a lot of speculation about the impact the vote of the ‘born frees’ is likely to have; some say this generation is apathetic and uninterested in the current political discourse. FORBES WOMAN AFRICA took to the streets of Johannesburg to gauge the sentiments of the young voter.
<h5>One excited registered voter is Nikita Maharajh from Durban in KwaZulu-Natal province. She is a graduate student of chemistry at the University of Witwatersrand.</h5>
“As a kid I remember reading a poem which said, ‘one vote can change the nation’, and it has stuck with me until today. Born in 1994, I am a product of democracy. I hope  our generation will be the change for a better South Africa.”
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<h5>Refilwe Morapeli has heard stories of the hardships faced by her parents’ generation. Morapeli’s father was a political activist during the apartheid years. She refuses to be swayed by the politics of the past, and has chosen to find her own identity without being cynical.</h5>
“Being able to vote at my age is incredible. My parents and grandparents lived through apartheid and I believe they have set the standard of the importance of being involved with citizens of the country and how morality should be part of our country’s values.”
<h5>Courtney Townsend, a photography student at Vega School of Leadership, believes casting her vote will increase her chances of changing the future.</h5>
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“I live on a farm in Nelspruit [capital of Mpumalanga province], and our house is the only decent one in the area. We are surrounded by hundreds of shacks occupied by people who haven’t tasted the fruits of South African democracy. The majority of families residing around my parents’ farm, Low’s Creek, either work at the mines in the area or in nearby farms, and their children attend schools that cater a very low standard of education that can only get them so far in life. The government has failed its people. The wealth gap, for which I hold it accountable, still needs to be addressed.”
<h5>Dumelang Makhooane is a 20-year-old first year photography student at Vega School of Leadership in Johannesburg. Despite the freedom of choice in the upcoming elections, she says many first-time voters will be influenced by their parents.</h5>
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“Freedom is an illusion. As much as you get democracy, you don’t really get the democracy [that was promised]. As much as my generation is encouraged to participate in this significant election, it does not change the fact that a huge governing body in the life of anybody my age is family. Our parents still play the role of government in our lives.”

Born Free, But Is It An Illusion?

They call it the Ring of Fire and in the last few years it has been getting hotter. This is the ring of sporadic protests around Johannesburg. The howl of the poor on the doorstep of one of the richest cities in Africa.
Most of these protestors vote and their dissatisfaction could signal a drop in support for the ruling ANC, which has guided South Africa through its 20 years of democracy.
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The protests happen on different days, but follow the same pattern. Burning tires, rocks on the road and fighting between protestors and police. In many weeks, they are as frequent on radio as the traffic news.
The police struggle to control the unrest. Schools close their doors as demonstrators pelt police with stones and petrol bombs.
Protesters burned down two of the Independent Electoral Commission’s voter registration stations in February.
In Gauteng, the province of Johannesburg, acting commissioner Lieutenant General Lesetja Mothiba says police saw 569 protest marches since November, of which 122 were violent.
“The South African public must realize what is confronting the members [police] on a daily situation while dealing with these issues of protest marches and demonstrations. These are not petty things, these are not issues that you can say &#8216;go read a book&#8230; and it will tell you how to deal with these issues&#8217;,&#8221; he says.
Gauteng premier Nomvula Mokonyane says the slow response to service delivery protests was leading to violence. She claims that opportunists, who lost out on government tenders, fueled some of the protests.
“Protests would not have happened if government responded quicker. Where violence happens we must act,” she says.
Research on service delivery protests by the Centre for Sociological Research, at the University of Johannesburg, suggests that, despite overwhelming support for the ANC, communities are frustrated with their ward councillors and local government.
Peter Alexander, the director of the center and South African research chair for social change at the university, says 60% of South African youth are unemployed, leading to discontent.
“The protests that swept across the country are not a novel occurrence on the social and political landscape. Impoverished residents of neglected townships have been voicing their dissatisfaction with ineffective and inadequate service delivery since the ANC rise to power in 1994,” says Alexander.
The communities involved in the cluster of service delivery protests share problems and frustrations. Poverty and unemployment are high. There’s a lack of water, sewage systems, street lighting, paved roads and housing.
“Many people don’t have the full range of service delivery, and they are continuously used as voting fodder in elections. Protests are about a range of issues, dominant to them is the youth unemployment. Their frustrations cannot be interpreted merely as a sign of displeasure with service delivery. Deeper discontent with available channels for participatory democracy underlies the protesters’ anger.”
The majority of protesters support the ANC. They are unhappy with their party because they believe the promises for a better life have not been fulfilled. To make the matters worse the government doesn’t understand, says Alexander.
In November, as Bekkersdal residents, west of Johannesburg, took to the streets to demand better government services, ANC veteran Winnie Madikizela-Mandela acknowledged that conditions in the area had not changed since 1994.
ANC deputy president Cyril Ramaphosa, campaigning for elections in Kagiso township in February, denied that service delivery protests were a sign people have abandoned the ANC.
President Jacob Zuma, in the state of the nation address in February, also downplayed the gravity of the recurring service delivery protests.
“The dominant narrative in the case of the protests in South Africa has been to attribute them to alleged failures of government. However, the protests are not simply the result of failures of government, but also of the success in delivering basic services. When 95% of households have access to water, the 5% who still need to be provided for feel they cannot wait a moment longer.”
Africa Check, a non-profit organization that promotes accuracy in public debate and the South African media, found that the figure differs between provinces. The president does not clearly define what he means by access to water, the most recent census claims that access is defined as either being inside a household, garden, or a communal tap in the street. Zuma’s claim does not speak of the quality of water—2.4% of Gauteng households said their water smelled bad in a 2012 household survey by Statistics South Africa. Nationally, 60% of households rated the quality of their water-related services as good.
Proof, that it all depends on which side of the protest you are shouting from.

Burning Ire In  The Ring Of Fire

When South Africa marks 20 years of democracy next year, it will not be alone in celebrating. Wiphold, Women Investment Portfolio Holdings, will also mark 20 years of existence as the country’s first women-owned investment company.
In the early 1990s, after winning the political battle to ensure all South Africans had equal rights, the country’s leaders had to deal with an important challenge: how to include black South Africans meaningfully in the economy.
Louisa Mojela, Wendy Luhabe, Nomhle Canca and myself founded Wiphold to make sure that the women of South Africa were not excluded from this life-changing conversation.
Our women political leaders had done their best to ensure that gender rights featured in the Constitution. However, as a worldwide phenomenon, big business does not seem to be comfortable including women in executive discussions.
When we founded Wiphold, my colleagues and I were well aware of the challenges involved in including women in the mainstream economy.
Using our rare, privileged position, championed by the South African government’s policies, we deliberately tried to rearrange boardroom conversations all over the world.
Over the past two decades, I think it is fair to say that Wiphold has met its ambition of being a force to be reckoned with. The company is fully entrenched in its chosen industries: financial services (Old Mutual and Nedbank); coal mining (Sasol) and infrastructure (the construction of a cement plant). Wiphold has also left its mark on consumer goods and services, and on tourism and leisure. While there were many highlights during this 20-year journey, some experiences stand out as particularly memorable.
When we started out, we needed seed capital of $50,000. For young professionals from not-so-rich backgrounds, this was a lot of money, and family and friends came on board to help us. I remember that my young brother-in-law, Lazzy, who had just started his law articles, delayed buying himself a car in order to loan me $500.
Early on, when the South African government introduced Black Economic Empowerment (BEE) legislation to include black South Africans in the white-dominated economy, Wiphold approached a gold company. We offered ourselves as a unique BEE partner, trading on the fact that women are known consumers of gold. The CEO was impressed with our presentation and kindly offered us a rose garden project, which the company had undertaken as a corporate social initiative. We have never forgiven him.
Another BEE company was so impressed with Wiphold, that it offered us a merger. This was very flattering, except that the company had an Net Asset Value of almost $500 million, while Wiphold’s was a mere $3.5 million in comparison. It would seem that we were a nuisance that needed to be removed from the BEE playing field.
Perhaps the highest point in my career is when Wiphold listed on the Johannesburg Stock Exchange in 1999. It was the first women-owned company to do so; further proof that we were pushing the boundaries.
Another high point was Wiphold’s decision to build a cement plant. Construction is traditionally a man’s domain – it is no rose garden – and I am proud that our company is comfortable enough to enter the sector.
Over the years, there have also been disappointments. A continuous frustration is what I see as women’s lackluster efforts to carve out a space, to coexist alongside men, in the world of business. I see it happen time and again here in South Africa and elsewhere in the world. We are not getting the traction we believe we deserve – and there are plenty of reasons why not.
It is not enough to complain that our male counterparts are not taking us seriously. In the end, this is a fight for survival, for women’s economic and financial independence. When it is successful, it translates into more harmonious relationships with men, free of financial dependency.
In the South African context, women have battled long and hard for emancipation – some have even given their lives in the fight for equal rights. The next phase is economic emancipation – and it is impossible to argue that there are no opportunities or a lack of economic platforms on which to do so.
As a pioneer in South Africa, Wiphold did not have the luxury of failing. The burden of the next generation of women entrepreneurs was on our shoulders. Success and excellence were not optional, but necessary.

How Gloria cracked the

“It’s time to let him go”, ran the front page headline of South Africa’s largest selling Sunday newspaper last month. This, a day after Nelson Mandela—struggle icon and South Africa’s first post-apartheid president—was re-admitted to hospital following a recurring lung infection. The Sunday Times was quoting Mandela’s long-time friend and comrade, Andrew Mokete Mlangeni, who had said: “The family must release him so that God may have his own way. They must release him spiritually and put their faith in the hands of God. Once the family releases him, the people of South Africa will follow.”
This from a man of few words. He is the least recognized of Nelson Mandela’s Rivonia Trial comrades. But, when 87-year-old Mlangeni does speak, he seldom minces his words; just like he didn’t mince his words more than a year ago, in our last interview. When asked to make assessment of the state of the African National Congress (ANC), specifically why South Africa’s governing party was so riddled with infighting, and was increasingly earning a reputation as being corrupt, Mlangeni retorted: “My heart bleeds when I see what is happening today. People are fighting to improve their own selves. The trouble is greed today. Everybody wants to be in the leadership. Everybody wants to be the president, the minister, earn more money, drive beautiful cars, have security around you. We are forgetting the people who have elected us into government.”
He continued: “Look at the corruption—everywhere corruption, corruption, corruption—is this what we were fighting for? Is this what people died for? We were accusing the Nationalist party government of corruption, and this is what we are doing today? My heart bleeds.”
Mlangeni’s candidness is nothing new. In court, 50 years ago, anticipating an adverse ruling by the presiding judge, Mlangeni would not cooperate with the court but instead read a terse statement: “The court can now see that some of the evidence given against me is true and some false. I have chosen not to give evidence, my Lord, because first of all, I do not want to be cross-examined about people I have worked with and places I have visited, in case I might give these people away. Also, my Lord, I have frankly admitted that I have assisted Umkhonto we Sizwe. I want to say that I joined the ANC in 1954. I did it because I want to work for my people. I did this because of the treatment my people have received from the rulers of this country. In the ANC, I found a political home, where I was free to talk against the government.”
“South Africa, my Lord, is a very rich country. The resources could be exploited for the benefit of all the people who live in it. This government and the previous governments have exploited not the earth but the people of various racial groups, whose color is not white. But the government, daily, makes suppressive laws in its white Parliament, [whose] laws are aimed at suppressing the political aspirations of the majority of the people, who have no say. I know that you, my Lord, have to administer the law, but when you do so, I ask you to remember what we, the Africans and non-white people, have had to suffer. That is all I have to say except, to add, that what I did was not for myself but for my people&#8230;”
No sooner had he said those words, Mlangeni was sentenced to life imprisonment alongside seven of his comrades—Nelson Mandela, Walter Sisulu, Ahmed Kathrada, Raymond Mhlaba, Govan Mbeki, Denis Goldberg and Elias Motsoaledi. Two of their fellow trialists, Lionel “Rusty” Bernstein and James Kantor, were acquitted. The state withdrew charges against the eleventh accused, Bob Hepple, after he agreed to testify for the prosecution.
Mlangeni would serve 26 years, many of them in an isolated cell, on Robben Island and later at Pollsmoor Prison. In his mind, he replayed his upbringing as well as the events and circumstances that led to his incarceration—from his birth on May 6, 1926 in Prospect township, in Soweto, Johannesburg as the ninth of 14 children; to starting school at 10; having to drop out two years later to find work, after his father died; working as a golf caddy; and later becoming a factory worker and bus driver.
In 1951, young Mlangeni joined the African National Congress Youth League (ANCYL) and, three years later, the ANC.
Following the ANC’s decision to move beyond passive resistance and embrace an armed struggle against the country’s colonial rulers, Mlangeni enlisted for Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK)—the ANC’s armed wing. Between 1961 and 1963 he was among the first six guerillas to undergo military training in China.
Upon the completion of their initial training—by this time he was a member of the High Command, MK’s highest decision-making body—they returned from the land of Mao Tse-tung to begin their ambitious program of insurrection. The MK’s High Command and operatives would meet secretly, every Monday, at Liliesleaf Farm. It was at this small holding, north of Johannesburg, that they plotted their operations.
Little did Mlangeni know—on a chilly Monday evening on June 24, 1963, while returning from their meeting, with assignment in hand—that state security agents were looking for him. This encounter would change his life forever.
The following morning Mlangeni was due to go to Krugersdorp, less than an hour from Johannesburg, to collect weapons to take them to a safe house.
“I arrived home at about half past eleven in the evening. My wife was asleep,” he says.
A short while later, police stormed his house, in Duke, Soweto and he was arrested. In the police car, waiting for him outside, was one of his comrades, Motsoaledi. Upon their arrival at the Pretoria Central Prison they found more of their comrades, who had already been detained.
“I was hurt, the police said the ANC is finished,” says Mlangeni.
On November 26, 1963, South Africa’s most famous political trial would begin, ending on June 12, the following year. International pressure, Mlangeni reckons, is what saved them from the death penalty.
“Strangely, we didn’t think we would die in prison. I had read a bit about the struggles of other people… [I] had seen how the Chinese struggled for their freedom; how the China Communist Party fought against emperors, against foreign occupiers of China, and how they ultimately drove all of them out,” he says.
Indeed, the Rivonia trialists would not die in prison. Mlangeni used this time to study for his Bachelor of Arts and honors degrees.
One day in 1986, while at Pollsmoor Prison, the anti-apartheid prisoners got an offer from their captors, through Mandela, affectionately known as Madiba—his clan name.
Mlangeni recalls: “Madiba was taken to hospital, where he was approached by Kobie Coetzee, who was minister of prisons at the time. Coetzee said they wanted to release the rest of us first, but keep Mandela. But would keep Mandela in a place where it would be easy for his family to come in at any time. Winnie and the kids would come see him anytime. Madiba thought it was a good idea. The comrades could go join the [anti-apartheid] forces outside.”
Upon Mandela’s return from hospital, “the four of us [Mlangeni, Sisulu, Mhlaba and Kathrada] were taken to an office where Madiba told us of this offer from government. We didn’t accept. We said: ‘What will people say? They will think we are sell outs.’”
Mlangeni says Mandela didn’t mind staying behind and thought his comrades should agree to be released, so they could strengthen the forces of freedom. What made the decision difficult was the regime’s stated logic, that if they released Mandela the country would go up in flames. The state also insisted that the activists denounce violence.
“So we rejected the offer.”
A couple of months went by.
“One day on October 1989, on the 10th, a warder came and said: ‘Guys, I want you to put on your best clothes.’ We said: ‘Why?’ He said: ‘I don’t know, you are probably going to see a minister.’”
The four were taken to Victor Verster Prison, where Mandela was now staying.
“Madiba said things had changed. He said the government was no longer singing the song of renouncing violence. They are saying they can release you and months later me. We accepted the offer. We said: ‘Okay, go and tell them that we’re prepared to take up their offer.’”
When their meeting was over, Mandela’s comrades were told they could not go back to Pollsmoor, as there was a large media contingent camping outside Victor Verster Prison.
“They were telling a lie,” chuckles Mlangeni as he recalls the sequence of events. “At eight o’clock, it was news time on TV and they had organized a TV for us. First item, the government has decided to release so and so from prison… our names… and that Madiba would be released soon. After the news they said: ‘Well chaps, the media is gone now. We can take you back to your cells.’”
“We were no longer addressed by our first names, but as Mr Mlangeni, Mr Mandela… We said we were hungry. They asked us what we wanted to eat. We said steak and chips. We hadn’t had that in a while.”
On October 15, 1989 Mlangeni, Sisulu, Mhlaba and Kathrada walked out of jail. And on February 11, 1990, Mandela followed.
Four years later, Mandela would become post-apartheid South Africa’s first democratically-elected president. Mlangeni, together with Sisulu and Mbeki, would be members of Parliament. Mhlaba would be the premier of the Eastern Cape.
Nineteen years on, Mlangeni has retired from politics, yet he remains a veteran member of the ANC. He divides his time between playing golf, very competently—he learnt as a caddy—his foundation and advising the ANC. He was a member of the electoral commission, during the last elective conference. Now, he chairs the party’s recently established Integrity Committee; it investigates allegations of corruption against party members.
The ANC has a lot of battles, Mlangeni concedes, but is adamant about its resilience.
“I know the ANC can always regroup, when things go wrong. We can always come back together.”
As for the government the ANC leads, Mlangeni says they are doing their best.
“We can’t meet the demands of our people in the few years. [Nineteen years] is too little to meet the demands of our people. It took [colonialists] more than 300 years to do what they’ve done to suppress us, to exploit us.”
Does he have any regrets?
“None whatsoever.”
What he missed a great deal though was seeing his children grow up. His wife Johanna, who died in 2001, singlehandedly brought up their four children. Mlangeni’s children were teenagers when he was arrested in 1963; the youngest was 14.
“Other things were also important… but not seeing my kids…”
Twenty six years of imprisonment didn’t change Mlangeni’s unyielding support of the fight for freedom, but when he speaks of his children, his voice trembles.

Corruption.  Is This What We Fought For?

Guinea, a mining capital in West Africa, faces great economic problems as it heads into parliamentary elections next month. The country faces ethnic tensions, threats to democracy and economic instability.
When it comes to resources, Guinea could be regarded as one of Africa’s richest countries. Rich in minerals, hydropower and agriculture, Guinea also holds almost half of the world’s bauxite as well as substantial amounts of iron ore, gold and diamonds. These resources remain under exploited.
Reforms are underway with tighter monetary policy and budget. According to the African Economic Outlook, in 2011 the Guinean economy progressed after the return to constitutional government. This saw real GDP peak at 4%. Despite government’s strict budget policy and determination to curb credit, inflation remained at a high of 21.2% in 2011. It is predicted to drop to 10.1% in 2013.
The International Monetary Fund (IMF) and World Bank’s International Development Association (IDA) have supported Guinea in its effort to gain debt relief. Combined, the IMF and IDA contributed $2.1 billion to the country in 2012.
In October 2011, the African Development Bank (AfDB) backed 77 Guinea operations which were worth approximately $818 million. These operations included: 58 projects, nine studies, seven institutional support operations and three non-project loans.
With the economic challenges faced by Guinea, this year’s elections will be regarded as a beacon of light for the country and will hopefully bring change to the nation. The eyes of the world will be on the country as they vote for their president.
President Alpha Condé, 75, was elected in 2010 in the first credible democratic elections since the West African nation gained independence from French rule in 1958, but parliamentary elections that would see Guinea’s full transition to civilian rule have been delayed for almost two years. The vote was originally scheduled for May 12 but elections have now been delayed until June 30, 2013.
In late February thousands of supporters of the leading opposition party, Union des Forces Démocratiques de Guinée (UFDG), took to the streets accusing Condé and his ruling Rassemblement du Peuple Guinéen (RPG) of attempting to rig the vote. Nine were killed in clashes with security forces and hundreds injured in the riots. The UFDG is backed by the Peul, the largest ethnic group in Guinea, whose supporters accuse Condé’s government of politically favoring the Malinke, the second largest ethnic group in the country.
With the opposition walking out of talks with the government that were organized in the aftermath of the violence, and calling for further protests and strikes, international observers are concerned that Guinea could further descend into violence and derail the nation’s journey to democratic rule.
Guinea’s main opposition leader, Cellou Dalein Diallo, who lost to Condé in a tight presidential run-off in November 2010, said the opposition would do everything to stop the election if it was held without them, according to a report by Reuters. Analysts say this is a troubling sign.
Vincent Foucher, a senior analyst for West Africa at International Crisis Group told FORBES AFRICA that the political standoff could setback Guinea’s economic gains.
“If they blow this one there is a very serious possibility that people in the armed forces could say, ‘You politicians are not able to handle those democracy things so we [will] step back in,’ and that would bring us back to 2008 which would be a real shame,” says Foucher.
He adds that basic consensus on the electoral process must be achieved for the elections to go ahead.
“The situation is so tense that I do not believe that full consensus is possible.”
Ahmed Sékou Touré, Guinea’s first president, was a firebrand socialist who rejected Charles de Gaulle’s offer of integration into the Franco-African community. Touré ran an authoritarian government for over 20 years in which torture, arrests and executions were commonplace.
After an unsuccessful invasion led by Portuguese Guinea, now Guinea-Bissau, Touré became increasingly paranoid, accusing the Peul population of attempting to overthrow the government. After his death in 1984, a group of army generals staged a military coup and Lansana Conté became president, and was followed by Moussa Dadis Camara in 2008.
Guinea came into the international spotlight in the aftermath of the September 28, 2009 massacre of some 150 opposition protestors and the rape of more than 100 women by security forces during the military regime of Dadis Camara. The International Criminal Court is currently investigating the case but Human Rights Watch has said the government needs to do more to bring those responsible to justice.
Due to mounting international pressure, Guinea held its first democratic presidential election in 2010. International observers deemed the elections free and fair but they were marred by ethnic rivalry and clashes between civilians and security forces.
Foucher says there have been significant moves away from the tyranny and turmoil of the past but that Guinea still has a long way to go.
“There are some interesting developments and you could say there is a dialog about electoral institutions.”
In addition to its bauxite reserves, Guinea has large iron ore, gold and diamond deposits and has long been on the radar for international investors and multinational mining companies. Upon taking office, Condé promised to redevelop the mining sector and review existing mining contracts signed under previous military dictatorships.
In 2011, Condé revised Guinea’s mining code to allow the government to take a minimum of 15% of shares in mining companies operating on its soil, with an option to buy a further 20%. The government has set up a review body to look into previous mining contracts and overhaul the mining code that determines the role the state plays in governing the industry.
Resources watchdog Revenue Watch Institute, funded by billionaire George Soros, is advising the Guinean government on transparency and how to better negotiate with large mining companies. Leading development economist Paul Collier is also an advisor to the government and Tony Blair’s Africa Governance Initiative has a presence in the country.
In an interview last year with The Guardian, president Condé, a former pro-democracy activist, said he would be “The Obama and Mandela of Guinea” and that he would transform the nation into a stable and developed democracy. But analysts say Guinea’s future stability will largely depend on his ability to negotiate with the opposition and build trust around the electoral process.
Guinea is emerging from a long period of political instability and the socio-political situation remains uncertain. Political differences concern the future of the electoral process and financial and logistical problems.

A Test For  Guinea’s  Fledgling  Democracy

Land reform has been as controversial an issue in post-colonial Africa, as it has been emotive. Not surprising given the sheer scale of poverty and inequality that countries had to deal with once they attained freedom.
The last country to be liberated, South Africa, is finding itself in this unavoidable position- having to take land from mostly white farmers and giving it to large numbers of disadvantaged. In its attempt, South Africa is haunted by the chaos and misfortunes of neighbouring Zimbabwe.
This is not a policy unique to Africa, however. Colombia is working towards an accord on land reform. Some socialist movements in China, Mexico and Cuba, as well as democratic regimes in Chile, Puerto Rico and Venezuela have gone through it.
<div id="attachment_1745" style="width: 210px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img aria-describedby="caption-attachment-1745" decoding="async" loading="lazy" class="size-medium wp-image-1745" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/John-du-Plessis-CEO-of-TSB-Sugar-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" />ohn du Plessis, CEO of TSB Sugar</div>
The reason South Africa’s land reform process has become urgent is the 100 year anniversary of the Natives Land Act, on June 19. The act limited black land ownership to 7%, later increased to 13%. It restricted black people from buying or occupying land, except as employees.
Between 1994 and 2011, 6.8 million hectares (ha) were transferred to claimants. This land is allocated on a 99-year leasehold. The minister of rural development and land reform, Gugile Nkwinti, said that 4,813 farms had been transferred, between 1994 and January 2013 and that his department had spent R12.9 billion ($1.43 billion) on land reform.
Political pressure is growing to speed up South Africa’s tortoise-like land reform in the face of unrest among the poor.
The reasons the land restitution progress has dragged range from corruption to government inefficiency. The bigger question is whether allocation of this land means it will be put to work. The reality is that some claimants have opted to take cash instead of title deeds. South Africa’s department of agriculture, forestry and fisheries (DAFF) and the department of rural development and land reform (DRDLR) failed to respond to questions about these issues.
The DRDLR has spent R1.8 billion ($200 million) on the redistribution and recapitalization programs and has set aside R3.2 billion ($355 million) for land reform.
This has been carried out under South Africa’s Restitution Land Rights Act of 1994, which was amended to redefine the ‘restoration of a right in land’ as ‘the return of a right in land or a portion of land dispossessed after June 19, 1913 as a result of past racially discriminatory laws or practices’.
The government is hoping to finalize the thousands of outstanding claims in the next year. The process has taken 18 years. To complicate matters further, the laws are being rewritten, which is likely to cause even more uncertainty.
The willing-buyer, willing-seller model was scrapped and in November President Jacob Zuma created a stir when he proposed that land be bought from white farmers at “just and equitable” prices. He has also suggested a land policy barring foreigners from owning land in South Africa, in favor of long-term leasing. The policy has yet to be finalized and passed, along with the auditing of privately-owned land.
A good case study of the land reform initiative is the sugar industry in Mpumalanga, in northern South Africa. The country is the world’s eleventh largest sugar producer. According to the DAFF’s February 2013 newsletter, Mpumalanga contributed almost a quarter of the national sugar production, during the 2010/2011 season. The South African sugar sector made around R8.2 billion ($910 million), the bulk of which goes to the local market. The growers get around 64% and the millers get more than 35% of the industry’s divisible proceeds.
In 1998, TSB Sugar began work with the government on land reform. TSB gave up around 90% of its land, which the company is currently in joint ventures (JVs)—with communities—over. The land used to be owned by the company, to secure its cane supply.
The company’s CEO, John du Plessis, has been in the sugar industry since he left university. He says the industry has been through tough times due to drought, land reform initiatives and pressures on margins. Du Plessis feels that land reform initiatives caused feelings of uncertainty, leading to lost efficiency in the milling sector and lost production in the agricultural sector. Pressure on margins has been caused by competition from imports, inflation and rising input costs, mainly due to electricity and fuel increases.
Du Plessis says that the biggest problem with the transference of land was high expectations by those who receive it.
“There is a huge expectation that ownership and management can be taken over, sooner rather than later, and we know that’s not a reality,” he says.
Land reform has definitely caught on in the sugar industry. Sixty seven percent of the 49,598ha in the Nkomazi cane area, in Mpumalanga, is owned by beneficiaries and 88% of this percentage is functional.
TSB and its JVs contributed 34% of the cane for the Nkomazi area during the 2012 season. The area has exceeded the national ownership target, while productivity on some of the land has increased slightly, largely due to the fact that some farms were run down. Small growers are a concern. These growers operate as sub-economic units, some producing only 35 tons per hectare against an industry norm of 100 tons per hectare. They are trying to solve the issue by forming co-operatives but this is often hindered by squabbles among owners.
“Sometimes it’s social issues that are undermining the sustainability of land reform and not production,” says Dave Thomson, the manager of land reform at TSB.
The global reality is that there are fewer farmers farming larger areas. The National Development Agency and the South African Sugar Association (SASA) raised R2.8 billion ($310.5 million) last year to improve the competiveness of small-scale sugar cane farmers.
One of the new cane farmers on the block in Mpumalanga is Petros Silinda, who used to teach agricultural science and biology in the province. He held numerous positions including commercial manager, company director and chairman of a trust. His three children are also learning the business.
Silinda believes that new farmers need to work with the old.
“There’s no chop and change in farming,” he says.
Each community in the area formed a trust in 2004, TSB has no say over how the trust manages its finances. The trust in charge of Silinda’s community’s interests has a 22-year deal with TSB, which was signed in 2008. The first 11 years are a 50-50 partnership and the next 11 will be in a 60-40 split between the trust and the company respectively. The trust represents around 1,464 households.
New political party leader, Mamphela Rampele, who was speaking at the opening of the Land Divided Conference 2013, said that there needs to be a balance between the need to redistribute land and retain existing commercial farmers.
At the sugar fields of Mpumalanga, Thompson says that trying to tinker with land prices isn’t going to speed up land reform. He thinks that government needs to look at the process and red tape. Land waiting to be transferred is in the hands of the government but who is there to manage the farms and ensure that there isn’t a dip in production before the beneficiaries receive it.
In Mpumalanga, they tell the story of how the owner of the 576ha Outeniqua farm sent government an offer to purchase the farm but the officials were slow. The farm fell into ruin as the farmer walked away. It was looted and vandalized and by the time the government made its R13 million ($1.4 million) purchase and transferred it to Silinda’s community, it was nothing but fallow land.
When Zimbabwe pushed through the Land Acquisition Act in 1992, the government was entitled to designate mainly-white commercial farms for resettlement.
Little happened until 2000, when the ruling party lost a referendum over a new constitution, that would have absolved the government of paying compensation. Bands of war veterans took the land by force, effectively paralyzing the industry. Professor Sam Moyo, from the African Institute for Agrarian Studies, feels that the downfall of the sector was due to the three droughts that occurred between 2002 and 2008, along with the economic meltdown.
The other issue is that when experienced commercial farmers leave, they take their skills with them. This was the case in Zimbabwe.
SASA is trying to make sure that doesn’t happen to its industry. What some fail to see is that having worked the land for generations is very different from being in charge of a business. If the sugar industry can embrace an adapt-or-die mentality, then there may be hope for the rest of the country. The road is long and the squabbles plenty.
Silinda’s parting words speak volumes.
“The moment you start fighting, over nothing, this business is going to perish and when it perishes, it perishes with us.”

Tag: Democracy

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