The words “the medium is the message” coined by Canadian communications theorist Marshall McLuhan seem apt for Nigerian designer Mai Atafo. He truly is the best medium and model of his work.
When we meet him, the always-immaculate Atafo is dressed in a clean cut black suit, white shirt, yellow tie and socks. His minimalist, unpretentious – and rather understated like the man himself – eponymous shop is located in the heart of Victoria Island, Nigeria. He strides in to meet two new clients in search of the perfect bespoke suit. They have come to the right place.
Pieces of clothing featuring traditional Nigerian design mingle with modern eclectic prints on the racks in the open-plan shop floor. The Mai Atafo brand is known for its Savile Row masterpieces. To the uninitiated, Savile Row is a street in central London known for its bespoke tailoring, and Atafo is a Savile Row Training Academy-certified tailor, of both men’s and women’s suits.
After listening to the new clients and their brief, he asks: “Why do you want this style?” An understanding of what the client is looking for sets the premise for the ensuing four weeks that will go into producing a unique, bespoke suit, typically costing anywhere upwards of N200,000 ($1,000). This level of perfection and attention to detail has earned Atafo an enviable reputation amongst his peers in Nigeria’s fashion industry, and beyond.
Fashion had not always been Atafo’s calling. When he was younger, music was his first love. He was told that as a two-year-old, he only walked when he heard music, and resumed his crawling position when it stopped.
“Until I was 10 years old, all I ever wanted was a guitar, but unfortunately my parents never got it for me otherwise I would be making hits instead,” says Atafo.
His dream of becoming “the next Michael Jackson” was not on the tarot cards though. The sixth of seven siblings, he thankfully also grew up with a keen eye for fashion.
“To me it was more important to look good than to eat,” he says.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-30959" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/Mai8-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Mai8-200x300.jpg 200w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Mai8-300x450.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Mai8.jpg 387w" sizes="(max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px" /> <img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-30958" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/Mai7-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Mai7-200x300.jpg 200w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Mai7-300x450.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/Mai7.jpg 387w" sizes="(max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px" /> <img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-30956" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/MaiA2-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/MaiA2-200x300.jpg 200w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/MaiA2-300x450.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/MaiA2.jpg 387w" sizes="(max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px" />
After acquiring a degree in Agricultural Economics and a master’s degree in Information Systems in the United Kingdom (UK), Atafo decided to stay on in the West. After five years, he decided it was not for him.
“I decided one day that I am more than a statistic, I am more than yet another African looking to make it in the UK, so I took a chance and decided to relocate back home.”
He secured his first job in the research department at British American Tobacco where he stayed for four years after which a stint at Guinness Nigeria PLC followed as an Innovation Manager and then later as brand manager. While at Guinness, Atafo decided to start his fashion career on the side.
And what was Atafo’s trigger?
“My sleeve length is 27 inches which is quite long because the average length is 25 inches, as a result, I struggled to get clothes that fit.”
So he decided to get his own clothes tailored; a practice from secondary school. There was another impetus. A friend was getting married and the groom’s men decided to upstage the bridesmaids. Atafo designed a range of African print-inspired waist coats and matching trousers in lilac and purple that were an instant hit and after replicating the style for five subsequent weddings, Atafo decided to go with his heart and enter fashion, full-throttle.
“I saved money that was equivalent to my one year salary and decided to take the chance. I said to myself, if in one year it doesn’t work, the worst that can happen is I will be a brand manager again.”
That was never to be – he has only worked for himself since.
Five years on, his brand is the recipient of top accolades in the highly-competitive Nigerian fashion industry. Developing the brand was not without challenges though, especially in light of the perception that it is more acceptable to pay higher prices for bespoke pieces made in the West than for those produced locally.
Even though Atafo holds the certificate from London’s elite bespoke tailoring school, he says he still encounters variables of this perception.
“I remember once a customer came to me with a $4,000 Tom Ford suit from the ready-to-wear range. However, the suit was ill-fitting and I was going to charge less than $1,000 to have it tailored and yet the customer complained that the price was way too much.”
Atafo believes it is still a long way before luxury African brands are fully acknowledged. However, he is in no hurry to open up shops abroad. Far from the contrary, Atafo is a proudly Nigerian brand, the name ‘Mai Atafo Inspired’ is born from what influences him the most – his strong Nigerian heritage. He is on a mission to create the first African bespoke brand for the international market, and be a cut above the rest.

MaiA5

The Bespoke Tailor Who Wanted To Be Michael Jackson

The living room of Winnie Madikizela-Mandela’s Soweto home in Johannesburg is all Nelson Mandela – there are portraits, photographs and perpetual reminders of South Africa’s first black President on the walls, floors, tables and showcases.
Yet, the most enduring mental image of Mandela and Winnie is from that bright afternoon on 11 February 1990, when Mandela, in a brown suit and tie, stepped out of the Victor Verster prison in Cape Town, one fist punching the air in a victory salute, the other holding Winnie’s hand.
We meet Winnie in her home in November. She is misty-eyed when she talks about Mandela’s final days, but smiles when reminded of that headline-grabbing moment when he was set free. It is a moment she revisits often, as it signalled the dawn of a new era in South African politics.
February marks a quarter of a century since Mandela’s release from prison.
“Isn’t that amazing? It seems like yesterday,” says Winnie, now 78, when we mention it to her.
She is dressed in the traditional attire of the royal Thembu tribe, worn for a year in honor of Mandela’s passing. She says she will wear it until the ‘cleansing rituals’ on the first anniversary of his death observed in Qunu in South Africa’s Eastern Cape where he was laid to rest.
In December, after the ceremony, Winnie made headlines when she told reporters the Qunu property is rightfully hers, and did not belong to Mandela’s widow Graca Machel, who she famously said ‘owns a whole world’ in her native Mozambique.
She challenged Mandela’s estate, seeking rights to the Qunu home, claiming the land was given to her during Mandela’s imprisonment.
Winnie was married to Mandela for 38 years. The couple divorced in 1996.
During our first meeting in November, Winnie had reiterated that future generations should be reminded that the family’s legacy is not about commercial gain.
“The African National Congress was not the ANC Pty Ltd, as some members of the family think sometimes… every family has its problems, and there are those who seem to think the legacy of Mandela is associated [with] material things. It can never be that… The legacy of this family is a political legacy. Therefore, I thank God it will be carried on by this side of the family.”
“We need to remind future generations that the Mandela legacy is not what you can make out of his name… It’s not about creating entities that are going to give capital to you because you happen to have the last name as Mandela. That was never the case. Our legacy is political, it was never about material gain… It’s not about how many millions you can make out of exhibiting whatever [has] a Mandela face. It’s not about the statues popping up all over the country, it’s not about egos… I never ever wanted to be associated with such things… Ours was a political sacrifice, it was not material.”
Her second daughter Zindzi, also present at the interview, said that those who want to celebrate Mandela should do so thoughtfully.
“We understand that he didn’t belong to us alone. But we never thought that even in his passing, he will still really not be ours, because there are constant reminders… people choose to celebrate him in the way they think fit without thinking of what traditional protocols are required, without thinking that the most decent thing is to consult the family first,” she says.
It is no secret that the Mandela moniker is a money-spinner. His face has graced coins, billboards, paintings and commercials. It has often been reported in the country’s press that his legacy status has been hijacked by government, private institutions, even some members of his own family.
Zindzi claims that people come up with ideas and then go to the family for endorsement. She sees this as a total ‘disregard’ to his wishes.
“In some instances, we have been shocked at how distasteful some of the projects and concepts are, because very often, it’s more about the people themselves as opposed to his legacy. Dad distinctly said when he retired that ‘I want you to rely less on my personal image… and focus more on my legacy. The greatest gift you can give me is to start living my legacy and values in my lifetime and my sunset years…’”
“It is very important for people to always introspect when they are thinking of celebrating him and when they are thinking about living his values. And if they are not sure, just to respect the simple protocol of consultation. Like any other family, we would never embark on a celebration of another icon without recognizing that… he didn’t exist as a tree trunk without branches, he had family. And it becomes so hurtful when it is overlooked.”

“We Are Shocked  At How Distasteful Some Of The Projects Are”

The house on the hill. That’s what Winnie Madikizela-Mandela’s Soweto home in Johannesburg is, not far from 8115 Vilakazi Street where she and Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela started their married life together.
That home is now a museum, a vestige of their anti-apartheid days, and a mandatory tick mark for tourists. Winnie moved to her present home on the hill after Mandela’s release in 1990.
It’s a red-brick structure with imposing walls and brawny security guards at the gate.
Inside the home, in three levels, we pass a living room choc-a-block with Mandela photos, portraits and paintings. They are everywhere, on the walls, tables, floors, and are probably gifts, from diplomats and presidents. There’s more. Entire showcases filled with chinaware, crystals and collectibles. Rugs cover every conceivable floor and tables groan under the weight of glossy books and glass vases. There is Indian art too: a large Nataraja statue welcomes visitors at the door.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29695 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001-198x300.jpg" alt="" width="198" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001-198x300.jpg 198w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001-300x455.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001-600x911.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001-768x1165.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001-675x1024.jpg 675w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/sb10063389dd-001.jpg 674w" sizes="(max-width: 198px) 100vw, 198px" />
We step into “the Angola room”. Zindzi appears in a black skirt and polka-dot top, her hair coiffured. She says this room is filled with gifts to Mandela from the Angolan president following his release from prison. More rugs here too. The highlight of this room is a wooden dining table with – now rickety – red velvet chairs.
“It’s like a museum,” Winnie says when we meet her later.
The room overlooks an expansive garden, with a fountain and benches. Zindzi says every plant and tree here has been planted by ‘Mama’.
“She is so creative, she spends time in the garden every day.”
These days, Winnie is recovering from a surgical procedure. We wait a while before she materialises on the staircase, in a traditional Xhosa dress and African beaded jewelry. This is the ceremonial mourning attire stipulated by custom and the family’s elders, worn for a year in honor of Mandela’s passing.
Winnie is still quite a head-turner at 78, and has a graceful gait.
This is a woman who has led an extraordinary life, a courageous and controversial life, as a revolutionary in South Africa’s liberation movement leading up to Mandela’s release from prison after 27 years and the country’s freedom in 1994. She continues to be popular among her supporters as ‘Mother of the Nation’, and has been the subject of books, films and two operas.
Winnie smiles genially, her eyes look tired, but she is ready to roll.
She is emotional when she starts speaking about the late South African president.
His final moments, when he breathed his last, keep coming back to her.
“It has been a very difficult year. There will never be a sense of closure,” she begins.
“There will never be another funeral like that. That was heavy. I wouldn’t like to see anything like that again, the image of my children walking past their father’s body with millions of other people. Death is such a personal thing, so private, they were not allowed to even have him in his death. They had to in fact share him more with the rest of the world&#8230;I cannot wipe out the image of Zindzi and Zenani walking past that coffin at the Union Buildings. It is something I wake up and see in the dead of night on those days when it is difficult to live with the past.”
She sighs loudly.
Winnie’s eyes well up as she speaks, slowly, recounting those final moments by Mandela’s side. Her daughters were in London at the time attending the royal premiere of Anant Singh’s Mandela biopic, Long Walk To Freedom. It was during the film’s screening that news about his death came.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29699 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1785-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1785-200x300.jpg 200w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1785-300x450.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1785-600x900.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1785-683x1024.jpg 683w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1785.jpg 682w" sizes="(max-width: 200px) 100vw, 200px" />
“The circumstances surrounding that particular day were very difficult. I got a call from Zindzi, who alerted me she had heard her father was critical. I rushed [to the hospital] and when I arrived…the doctors let me sit next to his head. He was breathing with difficulty. But his face looked very calm. I sat there for three-and-a-half hours. I was just going downstairs at one point, and the doctors called me back and said ‘Mama, you can stand close to him’. I knew what they meant. He was breathing hard and pulled three deep breaths. The last one was very long, he had this smile on his face and he still moved his lips. And he was gone!”
And when it happened, the words “till death do us part” came to Winnie’s mind, she says, as she harked back to that day in June 1958 when she married Mandela.
“And that’s exactly what happened, I happened to be there. I just felt this excruciating pain. I didn’t know how they [her daughters] were going to be told. In fact, from that day, I have kept trying to imagine how they must have felt on that flight back&#8230;My eldest step-daughter [who was there] was wonderful in trying to bring order and comfort. I never dreamt I would witness [his final moment]. But for some reason, God decided I should be there…It was particularly rewarding that I managed to hold him when he pulled his last breath. It brought back all the memories of our struggle and what one had gone through politically, and a certain chapter was just closed.”
For Zindzi, that moment meant losing the father she had missed all her life, the 27 years that he was imprisoned by the white government in South Africa.
In the months before he died, aged 95, she had been a constant by his bedside, as he was in and out of hospital.
“All those health scares he had…you were mentally prepared, but not emotionally prepared to let go of somebody you have missed your entire life. The few years you have been given with him, you just wished to prolong and extend. Every moment counted. He had become so repetitive in the latter years, because of the ageing process, but we had learnt that even if he was telling a story for the 20th time, to enjoy as if we were hearing it for the first time,” says Zindzi.
Soon after his release from prison, on 11 February 1990 – when Winnie famously walked with him, hand in hand, clenched fist in the air – Mandela had returned to 8115, the house on Vilakazi Street. In his book, Long Walk To Freedom, he retells that moment: “For me, No. 8115 was the centrepoint of my world, the place marked with an X in my mental geography.”
“The house was too cramped,” says Zindzi, “so Mama moved to this house in Soweto thereafter.”
Winnie and Mandela were married
38 years.
“Were we? asks Winnie. The number escapes her now.
And then says: “We were never together. I was the most unmarried married woman.”
Freedom fighters don’t have personal lives. The years Mandela was imprisoned were most “difficult” as Winnie continued the defiance struggle. In 1969, she was jailed for almost 18 months, thrown into solitary confinement. How did the family cope?
Winnie passes on the question to Zindzi: “I think you should answer that.”
“I was 18 months old when my dad went to prison. I was a grown woman with three children when he came back. In between, I never always had my mother home, because she was often incarcerated herself,” says Zindzi.
At this point, her eyes well up.
“It wasn’t easy because the system was unbelievably brutal and harsh even to children… because one had to find oneself in adult spaces, making adult decisions and choices whilst still a child.”
When she was five, and her sister Zenani, six, they went to boarding school in Swaziland, because they couldn’t go to school anywhere in South Africa – the security forces said no.
<img loading="lazy" decoding="async" class="size-medium wp-image-29698 alignleft" src="http://www.forbesafrica.com/app/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1730-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200" srcset="https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1730-300x200.jpg 300w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1730-600x400.jpg 600w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1730-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cms.forbesafrica.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/IMG_1730.jpg 1024w" sizes="(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px" />
“The moment we got to a school, the security police would get there, harass the principal, and we would be thrown out. We were literally on a tour of schools. At some stage we had to play colored, we straightened our hair, we changed our identities, and [still] they caught up with us. It reached a stage where my mother was now stuck at home with two children who couldn’t go to school…they wanted to break her, and break my father…they wanted to say, ‘even your children will have no normalcy in their childhood’,” says Zindzi.
They were shunted from school to school, spending various stages of their childhood living in other homes. When they returned home from boarding school, the authorities would take their mother away.
“On the day that school closes, we would come back to the house, and find mother has been locked up that same morning. This became a pattern, where, as children, we would come home and not even know where the key was&#8230;Somebody [would] take us and dump us with aunts. But then I was given an extended family, because of the choices my parents made, and choices, that mind you, if I were to do all over again, I wouldn’t change anything.”
Zindzi says she is grateful for those years, as they taught her to be self-reliant and determined.
“I have learnt to respect the strength of an African woman because of the example set by my mother…She taught us a strong work ethic. I started working at the age of 13.”
Winnie finds it hard to describe her own experience of those years, especially the indignity of her time in prison, and then her exile in Brandfort, in South Africa’s Free State. In her book, 491 Days, published by Pan Macmillan, she shares her despair
and resilience.
“It’s not possible to attribute precisely how one coped. It was particularly painful in the sense that it actually dawned on me that our freedom was so priceless…I didn’t know where my children were, and they were so young. I hate to revisit that chapter. I decided to bury it for years in my subconscious mind so I could deal with the pain differently, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to carry on the task bestowed on me by fate. You had to make a decision then whether you were going to give in to the enemy or fight till the last drop of your blood. I am so grateful my children have turned out the way they are,” says Winnie.
Did she feel anger?
“I don’t think I would be here if I had that continued feeling. As angry as I was during the 491 days, you sort of learn to live with that kind of political background, if you are ultimately rewarded by the liberation of your country.”
We near the end of the interview and as the cameras are put away and the mood lightens, she turns to me and asks: “What is the Mandela legacy actually?”
“It is a political legacy,” she goes on.
“We need to remind future generations that the Mandela legacy is not what you can make out of his name. It’s not about creating entities that are going to give capital. Our legacy is political, it was never about material gain…it’s not about the statues in the country, it’s not about egos. I never wanted to be associated with such things, which is why I am [living] in Soweto. My days will come to an end here with the people I threw stones with.”

IMG_1730

A Year Without Mandela ‘There Can Never Be Closure’

It’s 8am and Ela Gandhi, wearing a traditional khadi kameez, is seated on a sofa by the window of her modest 13th floor apartment in the hilly Glenwood area of Durban, South Africa.
The apartment, where she lives with her youngest daughter Ashish Ramgobin and her two children, overlooks the Durban harbor and offers sweeping vistas of the city. A stately piano is next to her, which she often plays, and above it, a painting of her grandfather Mahatma Gandhi gifted to her by the Rustomjee business family in Durban.
In the living room where she is, are glass showcases filled with sepia photographs, Gandhi memorabilia, pictures of Ela with Nelson Mandela, Desmond Tutu and the Dalai Lama, and several silver and crystal plaques, medallions and awards, among them, the prestigious Padma Bhushan (India’s third highest civilian award) she received from the Indian government in 2007.
In January this year, Ela received an award for her lifetime contribution to the freedom struggle in South Africa alongside other veterans of the Umkhonto we Sizwe (Spear of the Nation) – the armed struggle wing of the African National Congress (ANC). Ela clarifies she had never been a member of the armed wing, but receiving the award was an honor.
On the other side of the room, pictures of her as a child with her grandmother Kasturba Gandhi, and in the lap of Abdul Gaffar Khan, a lifelong pacifist and friend of her grandfather’s. There is a black and white photo in the hallway that is a particular favorite: of a six-year-old Ela in a white dress standing next to Mahatma Gandhi at the height of the freedom struggle in India.
In her bedroom are bookshelves laden with tomes on her grandfather; she rates the one by author Sudheendra Kulkarni to be the best. She spends most mornings here, working on the computer, editing articles for the monthly non-profit newspaper Satyagraha published in Durban.
<div id="attachment_6385" style="width: 210px" class="wp-caption alignleft"><img loading="lazy" decoding="async" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-6385" class="wp-image-6385 size-medium" src="/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/FWA-2014-Aug-Sep-030-031-Ela-Gandhi-002-200x300.jpg" alt="" width="200" height="300" />Ela at the Phoenix Settlement in Inanda; on the wall is the reproduction of a note signed “MK Gandhi”</div>
“I have been inspired by my grandfather’s teachings all my life. Be the change you wish to see, is my favorite quote of his,” says Ela.
Her daughter Ramgobin, who runs an NGO promoting sustainable livelihoods for the poor, says Gandhi is an important part of their legacy in South Africa. “In India, Mahatma Gandhi is a public holiday, but his messages are very relevant in our lives here,” she says.
Ela has upheld the family’s legacy, running several community projects, among them the Phoenix Settlement where Gandhi ran his anti-discrimination activities during his 21-year stint in South Africa. All through her illustrious political career, Ela has had the distinction of interacting with Nobel laureates – Tutu, Mandela, and Albert Luthuli who was also a close friend of the Gandhis.
&nbsp;
The Drive To Phoenix
Ela revs up the engine of her turquoise Toyota sedan for the 20 kilometer drive to the Phoenix Settlement in Inanda district. As she hits the N2 North freeway – she is a careful driver – she speaks of the apartheid era, when she was banned in 1973 for her political activism, and placed under house arrest for eight-and-a-half years.
“I had to report to the police station every Saturday and couldn’t leave the house between 7PM and 7AM. I had to stay indoors on weekends and public holidays,” she says.
The years roll by as she recollects the day her son Khush was shot dead, a year before South Africa’s democratic elections. He was only 29. To date, she does not know who was behind it or if it was politically motivated.
“The scar of losing a child will never leave you. [We] will never know why it happened. It was covered up,” says Ela.
In 1990, she was among the United Democratic Front team that met with Mandela at Pollsmoor Prison in Cape Town prior to his release. When the ANC government came to power in 1994, she served as an MP for nine years. She has met with Madiba many times since.
“He used to call me by name,” she says.
As still part of the Phoenix constituency, Ela developed a program against domestic violence, and started her work with the Gandhi Development Trust.
When we finally reach the Phoenix Settlement, it is clear Ela feels at home here.
This is where she was born in 1940, living here for the first six years of her life. After the Mahatma’s return to India in 1914, it was Ela’s father Manilal Gandhi who came back to Phoenix in 1917 to run the Gujarati-English newspaper Indian Opinion and continue his father’s legacy. Ela’s father was also a strong influence in her life on the Phoenix farm.
“We had a small kitchen with a chimney and a central dining room. All the children slept on the wooden floor. The place was buzzing with life. Although we had no power or water, we had very good times here,” she recalls.
When her grandfather first set up the communal farm in 1904, the homestead was a humble wood and iron dwelling. He valued simplicity, manual work and self-sufficiency. “It was a snake-infested property and my grandfather was afraid of snakes,” she says.
What was a 100-acre farm is today “a fenced-in area of about 1.5 acres” including a school and a museum, which records Mahatma Gandhi’s influences – Tolstoy being one of them – and how he influenced the world.
“This is a site of extraordinary significance in the liberation movement. John Dube, the founding president of the ANC, was his neighbor. There was so much contact between them, but it’s not talked about,” says Ela.
Ela remembers one particular conversation she had with her grandfather, while at the Sevagram (land of service) ashram in India that advocated simple living and farming.
“I told him that if they want to cook and serve pumpkins in the communal kitchens everyday, why do they call it ‘land of service’? They should call it ‘land of pumpkins’. Later during a speech, he told the people that when he asked them to live in simplicity, he did not expect them to eat pumpkins every day. I remember so distinctly that conversation with him and the aftermath of it. Everybody was curious who had leaked it to him.”
Ela says even after he left South Africa, Gandhi stayed in touch with Indians here, telling them “your destiny is connected with Africans, so work closely with them”.
Ela visits India at least twice a year, visiting her mother’s relatives in the state of Maharashtra, and never missing an opportunity to visit the Gandhi memorial at Raj Ghat in New Delhi.
“I visit India, but I am a proud South African,” says Ela. She is Gandhi’s indelible link to South Africa.

Grandfather Gandhi AND I

Its economy, political arena and society are in crisis mode. Abuja, its capital city, and other sections of the country are increasingly making headlines for the wrong reasons.
Meanwhile, representatives of Nigeria’s youth, political, traditional, religious, civil and business society are currently in a national conference (Confab) in Abuja. Their task over their three-month tenure: discuss salient national issues and recommend the way forward.
The most critical issue has been the dearth of safety and security in the land. On this point, a member of the Confab and former inspector general of the Nigerian Police Force, Muhammadu Gambo Jimeta, laments the failure of previous administrations to provide altruistic leadership.
“The country is sick, otherwise how will people organize themselves and kill innocent students, how could people gather together and rob, how will people gather together to vandalize pipelines? It means the central system is sick and that is national security,” he says.
The country’s defense budget ballooned from $625 million in 2010 to $6.25 billion this year.
Military muscle has however failed to curb the increasingly sophisticated insurgent group. Anecdotal evidence even suggests that some of this cash has fueled the crisis. The class of the impoverished community continues to outnumber the elite factions of society. Poverty afflicts more than 60% of Nigerians &#8211; around 100 million Africans. Twenty four percent of Nigeria’s employable population is effectively unemployed; for those between the ages of 15 and 24, it surges close to 40%.
Africa’s most populous nation is currently engulfed by a lack of social values. Homegrown terror gangs and Islamist insurgents ravage parts of northern Nigeria and violent criminals now roam through southern states, mostly outside Lagos, at will.
Nobel laureate Wole Soyinka has declared that Nigeria is essentially at war. Many who find this statement alarming struggle to disagree with the famous poet, playwright and ex-political prisoner.
In March, suspected members of the militant group Boko Haram executed a commando style operation to rescue their cohorts held in the Abuja cells of the Department of State Security, which is located within view of Aso Villa, the Nigerian president’s residence.
In April, economic analysts and pundits pontificated on the effects of the country’s rebasing exercise when terror struck again. Within one week, more than 200 girls were abducted by faceless rogues from a school in Chibok, in the north-eastern Borno State. In Nyanya, a densely populated district on the outskirts of Abuja, an early morning rush hour blast in the motor park killed more than 100 people and maimed many more.
Interestingly, the horrific situation has not halted progress on the quest to diversify the domestic economy. Apparently positioning for the long term, companies like Huawei, General Electric and IBM continue to ramp up their commitments and workload with Nigeria’s business, public, academic and scientific communities. Jim O’Neill, former chairman of Goldman Sachs Asset Management has invested some of his cash in Paga, a leading mobile payments service provider which has more than 1.3 million individual and 1,350 business clients.
While the nation’s image abroad continues to take a daily bashing, the paradoxical positives also need highlighting. GDP growth for the period between 2013 and 2015 is expected to hover between 6% and 7%. Ongoing reforms in power and agriculture look set to boost productivity. The fortunes of the capital market should be boosted by long term bond financing. Some sectors – telecoms, e-commerce, hotels, retail, real estate and construction – will continue to boom thanks to Nigeria’s head count. With a population of 167 million; consumer spending well in excess of $100 billion each year, and a fast growing middle class, Nigeria is definitely a promising African destination for business. According to the Ministry of Industry, Trade and Investment, more than $1.3 billion in fresh investments has come into the formal retail space over the last three years.
No doubt, a state of insecurity will continue to stunt domestic economic growth and attenuate the much needed peace of mind required for deep rooted investments. Poor governance has bred this terror monster. A crazily expensive, parochial and unprogressive political culture will continue to breed a heated and ignoble socio-economic landscape.
Being the 26th largest economy in the world will mean little to the hundreds of families still searching for their daughters in the forests of northern Nigeria.

Tag: Traditional

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