DEON-SIMPHIWE SKADE

Dear Aryan,

Please pardon me for having been so quiet for such a long time in what used to be frequent correspondence-sharing space between you and I; a platform I used to (and still very much) deeply appreciate because it has in some ways, accelerated a process of healing for me, over and above various psychic stimulation and revitalisation I experienced around that time. This process of healing I am referring to, started from a spare-of-the-moment kind of reaction when I just reached for a pen and a writing pad and started unburdening myself from the deep internal upheavals I was experiencing at the time, many years before I encountered you. I suppose I was merely yearning to be lighter.

This act of writing (that I can now boldly refer to as an essential tool to my becoming, a process that is still unfolding and would do so until my very demise), was born from a torment-stricken period of deep nostalgia upon my relocation to Cape Town, a place I found to be completely foreign in many respects from its cultural order/life/hierarchy and more. What struck me the most about this beautiful city I grew to call my second home, and later my first home due to my prolonged stay here (please indulge me in my digression as I am doing right now)—apart of course from its sheer physical beauty, and notwithstanding the brutalising contrasts we see in the Cape Flats versus its tranquil and safe urban suburbia—was what I thought to be its incoherent culture. And this is largely based on my limited lived experiences until that point of engagement with the city and its people, which undoubtedly frames the limited nature of my view at that time to what it is: Limited view! (as in not complete view nor comprehensive in anyway).

Despite this limitedness, I still felt deeply struck by how I could not relate to some cultural and societal experiences I had in what I would broadly refer to as its Township Life and the Cosmopolitan/Suburban Life. In my having lived in townships around South African from when I was born until my early adulthood, there has always been an incredibly seamless transition from one Township Life to another because there is what I call a consistent presence of a collective societal culture that is present in “urban townships” across South Africa (Again; this is purely based on my personal lived experiences fused with those of my associates and a community of family, friends and other elements of a societal make up.)

The oddness of Cape Town was simply glaring and brutal and wonderful as this place has been and continues to be to me with the kind of tranquillity, tenderness and lightness, my psyche was yearning for and managed to attain here, even though other vibrant cities such as Jo’burg were beckoning hard with more vivacious allure and promises. Despite this very strange oddness about this city, Cape Town happened to be to me, at that time of personal turmoil born from homesickness-ness and struggling to fit in within the new city, and dealing with past personal traumas of my youth prior to my relocation, I grew to view Cape Town through a complex lens of its socio-political realities. Through that view, I could not help but feel that the very sharp contrasts I first encountered when I got here are still very much prevalent in the demeaning conditions that the poor communities plagued by the terrors of crime, unemployment and all other social ills are forced to live under; versus the prevailing privilege of safe and kempt suburban life completely shielded away from the terrors of the Township Life.

When I reached for my pen those many years ago (if I may go back to what I was trying to articulate above; of course at that time of great personal psychic turmoil in a new city) I did not know what was to become of me from an individual point of view. I was—and quite frankly I do not know why—in some ways just trying to let go of the heaviness that was tormenting my psyche to a point of paralysing homesickness-ness. What I was to discover much later when I started writing about my observations of the social order of Cape Town as my then new home, through various forms of writings that mainly took a structural form of a journal, but deeply inspired by my then burning love for literature; these writings took a life of reflections, and short stories and poetry (if you are bold enough to refer them to be those literary genres; at your own peril if I may add).

Unbeknown to me at the time, those writings would preoccupy my life in the most profound way in that I found myself adopting a heightened level of consciousness to my realities of this “strange place” that was Cape Town, to a point of ultimately finding some resonance with its kind of life elsewhere, although different in some ways. I was deeply fascinated by the people and began to appreciate some of their apparent elements of calm, nonchalance and I dare say oblivion towards the greater struggles at a socio-political level (not that it is a good thing or even a bad one for the people to have – oblivion that is. I suppose it depends on the dynamics at play. But oblivion at times cushions one from the very madness of turmoil. The supposed oblivious people I observed through my lens, may have been in a better place of not seeing what may well have caused them greater turmoil in the midst of their prevailing struggles if they were to see and recognise it in their meagre state of being within all other prevailing struggles they were facing. Thus in that very instance, oblivion became a better evil; and perhaps for some people only. Otherwise, there would never be a much needed social order change if everyone within a certain unfavourable condition is oblivious. Ultimately, there ought to be among the people, those who transcend the brute pain of socio-political struggles as paralysing as they may be, and take up arms in speech and persuasion to effect the much needed change. Otherwise, there would never be a revolution of any degree in the first place!)

My anxieties and homesickness began to become less as I slowly found myself getting immersed in the socio-political life of this city. Then, I began to find striking similarities between the people of this city; particularly among the African/Black, Coloured and White people. Then I found similar patterns to my lived experiences (and a lot more because of my exposure to a greater world of people from a wider and racially-mixed work and social settings that I had previously not been entirely exposed to. Then I was struck by some degree of regret for having been so quick to make limited and perhaps incorrect observations at face value (a cautious feature I would somehow adopt as I approach things even when they are blatant at what they appear or profess to be – I would somehow and slowly get into a habit of stepping back and try to view a setting from a different perspective).

Then I discovered great beauty in the Xhosa people! Oh, Aryan! Their cultural standing, even in an urban setting like Cape Town; stood out tall and admiringly for me despite the what others may call a watered-down aspects of their culture as expected of a people when they adapt to a new urban setting based on economic and other human pursuits. I was struck by how dedicated they were and still are in their culture. Then I began to be drawn to the Eastern Cape and its terrible ills in the many villages that these beautiful people came from in pursuit of a better life in cities such as Cape Town. Right there I discovered more glaring horrors of socio-economic neglect of the highest order; a consistent feature of a political system and governance that came into effect from 1994 with blatant and self-destructive and searing corruption that has caused all of us so much harm from a South African collective community point of view.

Interestingly, this blatant and prevalent corruption is not seen in Cape Town, and this is not to say it is not there; we just do not know about it. And I hope it is not there at all as Cape Town appears to be governed very well at an administrative level. But even more interestingly, it appears (and let me put an emphasis on the word “appears” to denote that this is but an observation and may not be a representation of facts) the consistent socio-economic features of this beautiful city appears to be enduring. On one hand there are the intense terrors of crime, unemployment, lack of decent housing and safety among many other ills. Then there is consistent tranquillity, flourish and safety of the suburban life on the other hand among many virtues of a great city. I think Cape Town has great advantage in its apparently fully-functional and accountable governance, and needs to work very hard at making socio-economic equality a reality across its communities. The much needed base from which all these great and desperately needed interventions may be anchored is there; all that is needed is to make it happen. And it is all possible; if the attitude towards all Cape Town’s communities is the same; then the sky is the limit!

When I was beginning to tap into the lifeline of Cape Town through the people I encountered here those many years ago, I could not help but be struck by the ills within the Coloured communities too in their long history of terrors such as gangsterism and many other socio-economic and political struggles. At the time of my arrival here, a lot of what I thought I knew about this place; or more correctly speaking, the little I knew; was mainly secondary information from the media and my then pre-Cape Town communities, which was mostly hearsay type of information with a lot of distortions. Then I began to realise once more that there are great similarities in a people despite the terms used to define them. Then I began to ask questions (something very key in knowledge gaining and growing from a human level. What a great tragedy it is for those who never ask questions and always coming from a point of superiority; to their great peril or stunted growth of course – if I may say so! I believe that we should always come from a point of not knowing. That way, what we know, or what we thought we fully know/knew, may take a different form once we engage the “new” thus we would get transformed in our sense of knowledge and how we apply it or ourselves to a setting. I imagine sensibility, sympathy and humanity among many other virtues).

I will not come to the defence of Cape Town in any way! Cape Town, like many other parts of South Africa and the world with inherent ills (and beauty), is what it is. Cape Town’s ills are too striking (if you walk away the glare and allure of the tourist side of things). And for those ills to be allowed to flourish as it has been the case with the terrors and conditions I mentioned above is just not right).

As I was trying to say; my formative and personal process of writing would soon turn into an incredibly powerful vehicle for healing and finding my place in this very complex world that is not always too kind to the sensitive souls such a myself. And when I started blogging many years ago, as an unintentional extension of that journey of healing I had started, I found myself becoming relentless in my pursuit for that much needed healing from past traumas and defining a new way for myself. I experienced what I would term personal and collective traumas in my life within the township settings I lived in before coming to Cape Town. And somehow, artistic expressions, even though I may have not been conscious of it at that point in time because of being young and carefree, have always granted deeply personal solace and a sense of purpose for me. For as long as I remember artistic expressions around me, I always experienced a strange sense of relatedness, community and purpose such that I could inhabit that space when faced with life challenges (and this clear view is articulated here purely from the benefit of hindsight).

While these senses, some of which I have not articulated, were an “obscured” momentum in my passionate consumption of artist expressions in their varied nature, more so music, I could only fully explore my personal sense of “artist expressions” at a personal level when I started writing (even though I had never seen this activity as such when I started, and surprisingly, I still do not view it like that. For me writing is a personal indulgence of reflections with various intentions, some of which are not even known at the time of writing.) The activity of writing was born by accident, from a nostalgic and turbulent time of homesickness-ness and the struggle to belong in a new setting. And that has been my personal therapy and in some ways a philosophical application of the self in life as it unfolds. Strange; I know!

In my younger years, pre-teenage-hood and during and post-teenage-hood, I also happened to have enjoyed expressing myself through drawing, painting and creating. With the benefit of hindsight, I could say that these expressive artistic outputs I made were in some ways a refuge for me as a young boy living in demeaning conditions of poverty (Aryan, poverty is brutal and degrading in a way a human being should never feel. I pity those who might experience it when they never did before; not that I want anyone to experience it. It is just too ruthless and debilitating!)

Fast forward to my blogging years, a period I look back to with great fondness because of how extensively I wrote in my personal space during that time (which seems like a lifetime ago); and just how deeply beneficial that process was for my psyche and the kind of wounded-ness I felt I was dealing with; interestingly, that is when I met you through your own blog, Kagablog, and by extension your many artistic expressions such as film, literature and so on. Then I was struck by how free, prolific and “truthful” you were in many of your expressions. Somehow you discovered my blog (which I have since taken down as that was purely a personal project) and started reposting my reflections on your blog. Then my quest of becoming and healing deepened in such an incredible way because of the great inspiration I was getting from the likes of you, the art community, personal relationships in various forms, and the world in its entirety.

During that time; I was fully immersed in artistic expressions of various kinds, attending events and reflecting on them; reading books and writing my take on them, watching films (including yours) and writing about them. I met incredible people during that period, whether in person or through their artistic expressions (and of course those outside the art space, who were truly incredible in their sense of giving, through which I became a lot more conscious of  my journey, which I found myself committing to more at a personal level.)

Then began a period of extensive correspondence between you and I via email, which also accelerated my process of healing and becoming in some strange ways. On this point, please allow me to thank you for all the incredible inspiration you were to me, even when you may have not known that you were. Humanity does not say “thank you” enough. You among many other artists and ordinary people I deeply admire helped me to become free and bold in my personal “artistic” expressions. Stay blessed!

Back to the essence of my response to your email, which I have rudely not even touched on because I plunged into a monologue of reflection! How ironic is that you share Professor Kopano Ratele’s reflection on Dylan Valley’s film about the apparent contrasts in the Eurocentric sense of individualism versus the African way of community, when I am also preoccupied by other forms of contrasts as articulated above!

I must say Professor Kopano Ratele’s review resonates with me and heights my urge to want to see the film. How poignantly true are those contrasts that he reflects in our lived experiences and of/for those we have observed. The “epidemic” aspect of our recent history makes my blood boil at times because there were a lot of bad and inhumane things about that period. And sadly, the world continues to suffer the consequences to this day and will certainly do beyond the present. I am so pleased that the film questions these “essences”

Congratulations to you, Dylan and the collective behind the production of this vital artistic, cultural and political space such as herri in it varied extensions. I imagine that nomination is an essential affirmation that will keep the momentum going. May you continue to do more!

I wish I could find time to write again. Maybe I can submit something to herri for review one day when I get an inspiration to sit down and do a reflection on some subject. And if that time does not come, it will also be fine with it. I have allowed myself to be a flowing energy and I am highly protective of the inherent and consistent contentment I have been enjoying from this kind of approaching to things for the longest time, such that I am easy to adapt to a new reality such as the scarce urge to write. Other more important things such as my beloved family keep me sane.

Take care friend and thanks a lot for sharing this great news with me, and for recommending I watch Dylan’s film.

P.S. Please pardon the long response. All these things just came out spontaneously after I read your mail. I hope there is some degree of coherence as I typed in haste. I am sure you might cringe at my abnormally long sentences (even though I tend to write long sentences in some instances) – This is largely due to the kind of freedom I have embraced more now towards my personal writing approach as I get older.

I think less of the sometimes stifling confines of language and its burdensome rules which one had consistently applied in the past. To more freedom!

I believe in being what you are in all your forms; as long as you are coherent and sincere; that’s all that matters. I know language purists might cringe at this notion and its application. Aryan, wait! Let me go!

Sharp zinto!

A review of Deon-Simphiwe Skade’s book A Series of Undesirable Events can be found here.