Read Sometimes There Is a Void Online
Authors: Zakes Mda
Sometimes There Is a Void (75 page)
Unfortunately, their friend is not here. She is in Johannesburg, South Africa, mapping out her next strategy.
THERE IS THIS ARTICLE
in
Time
magazine on âhow the world eats'. It features what are supposed to be average families from five regions of the world, each family posing behind a stack of groceries. We are told that the authors travelled the world to learn what families in different countries eat in a week. Asia is represented by the Ukita family from Japan, composed of mother, father and two daughters. The caption reads:
Though wife Sayo usually prepares traditional dishes that favor fish and vegetables, her daughters often eat at fast-food restaurants
. The family's food expenditure for the week is $317.25. This includes grains and other starch; meat, fish and eggs; fruits, vegetables and
nuts; condiments; snacks and desserts; prepared foods and beverages. Europe is represented by the Melander family of Germany, composed of the parents, a son and a daughter. Their weekly expenditure on the same categories of food as the Japanese family comes to $500.07. The caption tells us that the wife buys anything that's fresh and good for the family. Latin America is represented by the Casaleses of Mexico. The parents have three kids and their weekly food expenditure is $189.09 for the aforementioned categories of groceries. The caption tells us that:
A weakness for pricey soft drinks distorts their tight food budget
. The Revises proudly represent North America. They are an African American family of mother, father and two sons from the United States. Their weekly expenditure on the same categories of food is $341.98. The caption tells us:
The North Carolina family fights the effects of abundance with exercise
.
in
Time
magazine on âhow the world eats'. It features what are supposed to be average families from five regions of the world, each family posing behind a stack of groceries. We are told that the authors travelled the world to learn what families in different countries eat in a week. Asia is represented by the Ukita family from Japan, composed of mother, father and two daughters. The caption reads:
Though wife Sayo usually prepares traditional dishes that favor fish and vegetables, her daughters often eat at fast-food restaurants
. The family's food expenditure for the week is $317.25. This includes grains and other starch; meat, fish and eggs; fruits, vegetables and
nuts; condiments; snacks and desserts; prepared foods and beverages. Europe is represented by the Melander family of Germany, composed of the parents, a son and a daughter. Their weekly expenditure on the same categories of food as the Japanese family comes to $500.07. The caption tells us that the wife buys anything that's fresh and good for the family. Latin America is represented by the Casaleses of Mexico. The parents have three kids and their weekly food expenditure is $189.09 for the aforementioned categories of groceries. The caption tells us that:
A weakness for pricey soft drinks distorts their tight food budget
. The Revises proudly represent North America. They are an African American family of mother, father and two sons from the United States. Their weekly expenditure on the same categories of food is $341.98. The caption tells us:
The North Carolina family fights the effects of abundance with exercise
.
Indeed, one can see that these are average families in these countries. We are not told what their jobs are but they look like professional people.
Now, let's see who represents Africa. The Aboubakars live in Chad. The weekly expenditure on food for the woman and her five children is $1.23. But it is not really their expenditure, because all of their food is from charity. They pose with their tiny sisal bags of millet or sorghum and plastic container of cooking oil. The caption reads:
Sudanese widow D'jimia feeds her five children with the rations she receives at the Breidjing Refugee Camp
. Most of the food categories listed above, such as dairy and beverages, are not available to them. Even their water is provided by Oxfam. And this is your
average
African family?
Sudanese widow D'jimia feeds her five children with the rations she receives at the Breidjing Refugee Camp
. Most of the food categories listed above, such as dairy and beverages, are not available to them. Even their water is provided by Oxfam. And this is your
average
African family?
Yes, there are such refugee families in Africa but they are not your
average
African family. What has been done here is the same as taking a family from Rome Township in southeast Ohio where there is so much hunger that some children go to bed without supper and the only meal for some of them is the school lunch, and presenting their plight as that of an average American family. Yes, in the United States of America there are such families and I work with some them every day in such hamlets as Kilvert. They depend on soup kitchens and food pantries; food donated by charities. Unlike the American family portrayed
in this article, they don't have the abundance whose effects must be fought with exercise. Instead, many of them are obese because they have to depend on cheap foodstuffs that are replete with empty calories. Remember that a litre of Coca-Cola is much cheaper than a litre of milk. But these Appalachian families are not by any stretch of imagination representative of your average American family, in the same way that Sudanese refugees in Chad are not average African families. Refugees form the tiniest of minorities compared to the populations in the rest of Africa's countries.
average
African family. What has been done here is the same as taking a family from Rome Township in southeast Ohio where there is so much hunger that some children go to bed without supper and the only meal for some of them is the school lunch, and presenting their plight as that of an average American family. Yes, in the United States of America there are such families and I work with some them every day in such hamlets as Kilvert. They depend on soup kitchens and food pantries; food donated by charities. Unlike the American family portrayed
in this article, they don't have the abundance whose effects must be fought with exercise. Instead, many of them are obese because they have to depend on cheap foodstuffs that are replete with empty calories. Remember that a litre of Coca-Cola is much cheaper than a litre of milk. But these Appalachian families are not by any stretch of imagination representative of your average American family, in the same way that Sudanese refugees in Chad are not average African families. Refugees form the tiniest of minorities compared to the populations in the rest of Africa's countries.
If the editors of
Time
magazine had portrayed the diet of a cattle rancher in Botswana, a factory worker or taxi driver in South Africa, a mineworker in Lesotho, a school teacher in Ghana or a coffee farmer in Rwanda â to name but a few low- to middle-income occupations in Africa â it would have been clear to their readers that the average African family does have a diet of grains and other starchy foods; meat, fish and eggs; fruits, vegetables and nuts; prepared foods and beverages. And they buy these foods instead of getting them from charity. And they live in houses and not tattered tents like the depicted refugee family. But a fair portrayal of the real Africa would not have had any credibility. It would go against the expectations of readers of the magazine who have a set narrative in their minds of Africa as a continent of nothing but starvation, chaos and mayhem. It is a metonymic portrayal, a much prevaricated one, where the few flashpoints on the continent have come to stand in the West's collective imagination for the whole continent without exception. Western media's portrayal of Africa must therefore be consistent with that jelled narrative. It must not do anything that dishabituates established notions, but must reinforce the narrative that has congealed in the audience's mind. I am not suggesting that gatekeepers in the West are engaged in a conspiracy to discredit Africa. It is just force of habit. What sells to their readers and viewers is the Africa that they already âknow'.
Time
magazine had portrayed the diet of a cattle rancher in Botswana, a factory worker or taxi driver in South Africa, a mineworker in Lesotho, a school teacher in Ghana or a coffee farmer in Rwanda â to name but a few low- to middle-income occupations in Africa â it would have been clear to their readers that the average African family does have a diet of grains and other starchy foods; meat, fish and eggs; fruits, vegetables and nuts; prepared foods and beverages. And they buy these foods instead of getting them from charity. And they live in houses and not tattered tents like the depicted refugee family. But a fair portrayal of the real Africa would not have had any credibility. It would go against the expectations of readers of the magazine who have a set narrative in their minds of Africa as a continent of nothing but starvation, chaos and mayhem. It is a metonymic portrayal, a much prevaricated one, where the few flashpoints on the continent have come to stand in the West's collective imagination for the whole continent without exception. Western media's portrayal of Africa must therefore be consistent with that jelled narrative. It must not do anything that dishabituates established notions, but must reinforce the narrative that has congealed in the audience's mind. I am not suggesting that gatekeepers in the West are engaged in a conspiracy to discredit Africa. It is just force of habit. What sells to their readers and viewers is the Africa that they already âknow'.
I saw this some years back during the Winter Olympics in Sarajevo. In one event there was a competitor from Senegal. On the American television channel that was broadcasting the event, whenever an athlete was introduced the cameras took us to his or her home country
and showed us some of its beautiful landmarks. When it came to the Senegalese athlete the cameras took us to some ramshackle grass hut that looked like an abandoned bird's nest. That was Senegal, and that was Africa. It did not matter that the athlete came from Dakar â a beautiful, modern, vibrant, clean city. He had never lived in any place like the one depicted on television. Senegal does have many beautiful landmarks too, but their portrayal would have gone against the viewers' expectations.
and showed us some of its beautiful landmarks. When it came to the Senegalese athlete the cameras took us to some ramshackle grass hut that looked like an abandoned bird's nest. That was Senegal, and that was Africa. It did not matter that the athlete came from Dakar â a beautiful, modern, vibrant, clean city. He had never lived in any place like the one depicted on television. Senegal does have many beautiful landmarks too, but their portrayal would have gone against the viewers' expectations.
It is the same old story: whereas for other countries and continents the media portray what ranges from the average to the best case scenario, in Africa the representation must always be of the worst case scenario. It is the Africa we have come to know. Any other Africa would be discomfiting for us. My American students have been discomfited quite a few times by such South African movies as
Jerusalema
,
White Wedding
and
Swop!
that I occasionally screen in my textual analysis classes. Not only are they perplexed by the high production values that they associate with America rather than Africa, they are disappointed that this Africa of skyscrapers and luxury sedans and trains and gun-toting carjackers and prostitutes and high-walled mansions and gritty townships and golf courses and white weddings and fashion designers is not the âreal' Africa â the Africa they know. You see, they are experts on Africa, thanks to the congealed narrative.
Jerusalema
,
White Wedding
and
Swop!
that I occasionally screen in my textual analysis classes. Not only are they perplexed by the high production values that they associate with America rather than Africa, they are disappointed that this Africa of skyscrapers and luxury sedans and trains and gun-toting carjackers and prostitutes and high-walled mansions and gritty townships and golf courses and white weddings and fashion designers is not the âreal' Africa â the Africa they know. You see, they are experts on Africa, thanks to the congealed narrative.
I am reminded of the
Time
magazine article by the fact that I am challenging an expert on Africa whose expertise is solely based on the jelled narrative. His name is Dr Terry Harvey and he has been engaged by the court in Athens as the Guardian Ad Litem â a person appointed by the court to represent, in this case, the interests of the children in a divorce or custody action.
Time
magazine article by the fact that I am challenging an expert on Africa whose expertise is solely based on the jelled narrative. His name is Dr Terry Harvey and he has been engaged by the court in Athens as the Guardian Ad Litem â a person appointed by the court to represent, in this case, the interests of the children in a divorce or custody action.
But before I get to his jelled narrative, let me tell you what happens after I come back from South Africa with the children. Forgive me for galloping through these events, but they could make a whole book on their own and I need to get to the conclusion of this woeful tale of a foolish outsider.
Before Adele's return to America we had a few confrontations in Johannesburg where I had gone for the launch of my new novel,
The Whale Caller
, which was published by Penguin Books. I had left the kids with my brother Sonwabo at my Pomeroy Road apartment in Athens. At a reading to promote my new novel Adele invaded the venue accompanied by an attorney I didn't recognize and a policeman. The attorney served me with a document demanding that I return the children to Adele. They didn't reckon that I knew something about the law. For one thing, the attorney is not the sheriff of the court; he has no right to serve court process unless authorised to do so by a court. And this attorney guy didn't have any such authority. The document itself was irrelevant and meaningless in any event, and I told them so. I also admonished the policeman very strongly for allowing himself to be used by an unscrupulous lawyer in a civil matter when he should be chasing criminals all over Johannesburg.
The Whale Caller
, which was published by Penguin Books. I had left the kids with my brother Sonwabo at my Pomeroy Road apartment in Athens. At a reading to promote my new novel Adele invaded the venue accompanied by an attorney I didn't recognize and a policeman. The attorney served me with a document demanding that I return the children to Adele. They didn't reckon that I knew something about the law. For one thing, the attorney is not the sheriff of the court; he has no right to serve court process unless authorised to do so by a court. And this attorney guy didn't have any such authority. The document itself was irrelevant and meaningless in any event, and I told them so. I also admonished the policeman very strongly for allowing himself to be used by an unscrupulous lawyer in a civil matter when he should be chasing criminals all over Johannesburg.
âThere is crime out there,' I yelled, as my audience, which included Gugu and Thandi, looked on aghast. âChildren are being raped as we speak, houses are being burglarised. And you are here to serve long-rescinded court process on a civil matter you know nothing about? Since when does the state get involved in divorce and custody matters?'
I didn't care about Adele and the lawyer. They were doing what they did best. I was focusing on the policeman whose salary I paid with my taxes. The three of them just stood there, at a loss as to what to do next. We left and drove away in Gugu's car.
On another occasion Adele attacked me physically in the presence of my son Neo, a truck driver and a few labourers when I returned the furniture that had been in storage to our common house. Even though she had kicked the tenant out of the house, she didn't want me to return the furniture. I didn't know why at the time, but learnt later that she had rented the house out to her own tenants so as to pocket the rent for herself. She threw stones at us and broke the windows of Neo's four-wheel-drive pickup truck. We laid a charge of assault and malicious damage to property against her.
On yet another occasion, she invaded Gugu's house and assaulted her. Gugu had to get a restraining order against her. But still she continued to skulk around the complex, at one time invading early in the morning accompanied by an armed policeman. Apparently she had
made a complaint that I had assaulted her, hence the armed policeman. Of course, no charges were laid because such an assault was a figment of her imagination. In fact, it was a calculated ploy to stop me from returning to America to the children, hoping that they would be stranded without me and she would then regain custody. After two weeks of the book tour, with all those upheavals that amounted to an emotional tsunami, I went back to Athens, Ohio, to be with the children.
made a complaint that I had assaulted her, hence the armed policeman. Of course, no charges were laid because such an assault was a figment of her imagination. In fact, it was a calculated ploy to stop me from returning to America to the children, hoping that they would be stranded without me and she would then regain custody. After two weeks of the book tour, with all those upheavals that amounted to an emotional tsunami, I went back to Athens, Ohio, to be with the children.
A few weeks later she also came back to Athens. I allowed her to see the children whenever she wanted to, as long as she did not take them away from my house. This was before the court finalised the custody arrangements. One night she arrived at my house and knocked violently on the door while yelling insults. I refused to open. Neighbours came out to watch the spectacle. When she persisted I called Buzz Ball, my lawyer, who advised me to call the police. I did.
âThe police are on their way, Adele,' I shouted.
That was stupid of me. I shouldn't have warned her. When the patrol car arrived she was long gone. The next day I went to the police station to make a statement.
The court finally had a custody hearing. The magistrate, Karen Harvey â no relation to the Guardian Ad Litem, Terry Harvey, who I am going to tell you about â gave me the custody of the children pending the divorce hearing. She allowed Adele supervised visitations every other weekend. I opposed that because I wanted the kids to spend quality time with her unhampered by a supervisor. The magistrate then ruled that before she took the children from my house she had to deposit her passport with the court. The fear was that she would once again abduct them out of the jurisdiction of the court.
But she didn't give up. She was a fighter. She tried every trick in the book. She even went to My Sister's Place, a shelter for abused and battered women claiming that she was an abused woman. And, of course, My Sister's Place did not hesitate to get her a Petition for Domestic Violence Protection Order. As part of this order she demanded that I should immediately surrender possession of the Nissan Sentra. At the court hearing for this particular matter I was represented by Buzz Ball again and she was with two young female attorneys whose
names I did not get. All the evidence pointed to the fact that she was the aggressor who had even invaded my house and I had had to call the police. The magistrate dismissed her petition for a protection order. She noted that I was the one who needed protection from her. After the magistrate ruled, it seemed to me that the people from My Sister's Place, who handle on a daily basis serious cases of women who are terribly abused by their husbands for real, were disappointed that in this case they had been had.
names I did not get. All the evidence pointed to the fact that she was the aggressor who had even invaded my house and I had had to call the police. The magistrate dismissed her petition for a protection order. She noted that I was the one who needed protection from her. After the magistrate ruled, it seemed to me that the people from My Sister's Place, who handle on a daily basis serious cases of women who are terribly abused by their husbands for real, were disappointed that in this case they had been had.
As for the car, there was no way she could have it back, the magistrate stated categorically. She had abandoned it when she abducted the kids. I donated it to the people of Kilvert who auctioned it to raise funds for their community centre which provides food for destitute people.
Now, let's come to the present: the Guardian Ad Litem. His job is to advise the court as to which of the parents should be the custodial parent. At this point I am the custodial parent, but that is a temporary arrangement until the divorce is finalised. Dr Terry Harvey occasionally visits my home at Euclid Drive; I have since moved from Pomeroy Road and am now renting a house so that the kids can have their own bedrooms. Adele now lives at the Carriage Hill Apartments which are owned by the university and are rented out to graduate students. Dr Harvey visits her there too to see how she lives and to assess whether the children will be better off with her or with me. He has lengthy interviews with her and with the children. He does the same with me too and with friends who occasionally help me look after the children, Spree McDonald and his wife, Tsibishi. Spree is a doctoral student and my graduate assistant. Dr Harvey also interviews the children. He compiles lengthy notes from which he writes his first report to the court.
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