by Justin Foxton | Nov 25, 2017 | Citizen Participation, Democracy, Leadership
A letter to my sister who is about to return to South Africa having lived in Britain for the past 4 years:
Dear M,
I hope you are well and surviving that UK weather. I wish you could send some rain to the Western Cape. The drought down there is horrific.
What do you make of what’s happening in Zim? If you had told me last week that in a matter of days Mugabe would still be alive but out of power, I would have laughed at you. It gives me such hope for South Africa, though we must do it peacefully and democratically (and preferably in less than 37 years!)
Your decision to come home is such a great one – not that I am biased! It’s a very exciting time to be in South Africa, though it’s not for the faint-hearted. So, as you make plans to come back home for good, I wanted to give you my thoughts on the “state of our nation”.
From all you will have heard and read, things will appear significantly worse in South Africa. To some extent they are. But you should know that the most important difference between where we are now and where we were say last month or even last year, is that the rot is pouring out into the open in a way that it has never done before. This is thanks to people like Jacques Pauw who wrote The President’s Keepers, NGO amaBhungane and The Daily Maverick who exposed #GuptaLeaks, Adriaan Basson and Pieter Du Toit who wrote Enemy of The People. The list of people bravely exposing Zuma, the Guptas and the stench of corruption and state capture is long and growing.
New revelations emerge daily and whilst this is extremely angering and even frightening for many of us, it is good. The exposure of the sheer magnitude of criminality within government, our state-owned enterprises and institutions like the State Security Agency is the necessary bursting of a boil that has been festering under the surface of this nation for too long. We naively believed that Nkandlagate and revelations of the looting of State Owned Enterprises represented giddying high points in corruption and the capturing of the presidency and the state. But we now know that they are individual cases of a plague that has swept our country. We now know that abuse of power and sheer greed run right into the heart of the democratic apparatus of our state.
So, I’m not saying things are good. They aren’t. They are appalling. But ironically, the fact that we know they are so appalling should give us a sense of hope; a sense that we are better off now than we were yesterday. For without knowledge of the enemy we are fighting, how can we possibly win? And every day we learn more and this must inform our fight.
Which brings me to my second point. Time and again history has shown us that it only takes a handful of good men and women to turn the tide on evil and we have more than a handful. There are so many people in this country (and indeed outside the country) who are risking everything to expose corruption and lead in ways that honour the legacy of our democracy’s founders. I mentioned Jacques Pauw et al but there are dozens of people who are speaking out daily. This extends from our often-fearless press, to individuals like Pravin Gordhan, Advocate Thuli Madonsela, Zwelenzima Vavi, Makhosi Khoza, David Lewis and his team at Corruption Watch, Sipho Pityana, Vytjie Mentor, Lord Peter Hain to opposition parties, civil society groups and NGO’s to the man and woman on the street. I think of the many police I have interacted with who will not solicit a bride. I think of the many friends and family members we have who will not pay a bribe or a kick-back.
History has always proved the adage that “good will ultimately triumph over evil” and South Africa will be no exception. This is simply because the good men and women of our time are taking a stand big or small. They are resisting the temptation to join the feeding frenzy and exposing lies and deception whenever they can, and hope remains.
My honest belief is that you are coming back at a very good and very necessary time. There is no doubt that it is a time of hope, rebuilding and restoring; it is time for a new struggle that involves all of us. As the good book puts it: “I (God) will restore the years that the locusts have eaten.” The image of locusts is spot on. If I was a cartoonist I would draw Zuma, the Guptas and all the rest of them as locusts destroying everything in their path. But ultimately – like every other plague in history – the locusts will not prevail.
I began this letter by saying that South Africa is not for the faint-hearted. But South Africa also isn’t for the complacent, the lazy or the negative right now either. If you aren’t willing to actively participate in a better future, then you will probably be over-whelmed by the scale of the rot and want to jump ship. It is only when people make the decision to remain hopeful and seriously invest in a nation – time, energy and money – and stand up for their ethics and values, that they become a positive and active contributor to the solution.
I hope this gives you some perspective. We can’t wait to have you home.
Justin Foxton is founder of The Peace Agency.
His writing is dedicated to the memory of Anene Booysens, Emmanuel Josias Sithole and Suna Venter.
by Justin Foxton | Sep 1, 2017 | Citizen Participation, Crime & Corruption, Leadership
If you know the greater Johannesburg area, you will be familiar with a sulphurous smell that permeates the air at certain times of the year and reminds one of being on a long road trip with a windy family member.
Theories abound as to the cause of the smell; when we were kids we were told it “came from the mines”. But everyone has a theory; some rather randomly say it comes from Modderfontein, others blame factories, landfills and sewerage.
I was in Johannesburg recently and caught a familiar whiff. Suddenly, I was in Parliament and it was the 8th August 2017 and I was listening to the results of the motion of no confidence in the President. As I listened the smell seemed to get stronger. Next thing I knew, it is three weeks later and the smell which is usually gone by morning, is still hanging heavy in the air. It just won’t go away and although it isn’t nauseating, it is just – there; constantly.
I have tried to understand this smell that won’t go away. Of course, the easy answer is that it is the stench of avarice; greed upon greed upon greed; corruption breeding with itself to produce a deformed and grotesque fart bag. But that is too easy an explanation because we have lived with that smell for so long we hardly notice it anymore. (Note to self: When citizens become numbed to the crimes being committed by their leaders, the nation is on very rocky ground. Wrongly, I have stopped reading anything that has #Guptaleaks in the title. It’s become like ambient noise that I just tune out. I must wake up, read everything and allow indignation to rise again.
But this time it seems different. The stench I am smelling is, I think, a rather toxic blend of fear mixed with helplessness. Many South Africans from all walks of life had been unrealistically hopeful about the motion of no confidence. Some even believed that it would succeed in removing the President. When it did not, we seemed to collectively drop down onto the pavements of our country, our banners limp and impotent, and quietly give up. The dominant collective mindset seemed to say: “Well, we have him until 2019 now – lets ride this out and hope we don’t get someone even worse.” And then the fear kicked in as it began to dawn on us just how long two years is when you are being led by a Jacob Zuma.
But surely if the smell is fear and helplessness, then the smell is coming from us. After all, these emotions don’t come from outside of ourselves; they come from within. And if we have quietly resigned ourselves and hence our country to the fates, then are we not to blame if we get more of the same?
But I sometimes find myself asking: “What more can we do? We have marched, prayed and railed. We have signed petitions and e-mailed MP’s. What is left for us to do?”
The answers to some of these questions came to me this last week as I facilitated a 2-day workshop for the organisation Partners for Possibility. Their ground-breaking and internationally acclaimed program pairs a business leader with a school principal for 1 year to help the principal develop and refine his or her leadership skills. This workshop was all about how to build authentic community in and around a school and indeed, in one’s businesses and neighbourhoods. Half way through day 1 a couple of things occurred to me: the first was that these school principals – who have every reason to be negative – were anything but; they were positive, eager to learn and passionate about their schools and the kids. The business leaders were equally as positive; they sought solutions and were eager not to pass the buck onto government or anywhere else for that matter. The positivity in the room was infectious and as a result, the community of this group built quickly and discernibly.
The realisation was two-fold: when we surround ourselves with positive people – and are open to having our minds changed – fear falls and hope rises. Secondly, when people come together to discuss possibilities rather than problems, solutions emerge. This feeds the positivity, and the fear and hopelessness are further eroded.
Another thing became very clear to me for the umpteenth time since I have been involved in community and NGO work; as we get involved by volunteering our time and skills, something shifts in us. We stop focusing our attention solely on what isn’t and begin to build on what is.
This of course does not mean that we will suddenly be rid of our corrupt leaders. But what it does mean is that we will triumph over our own fear and helplessness; we will find ourselves in a position where we are able to celebrate what is great about our country. And when the moment comes when we need to once again rise, lift our banners and take to the streets, we will have the energy and the zeal to do just that.
Justin Foxton is founder of The Peace Agency.
His writing is dedicated to the memory of Anene Booysens, Emmanuel Josias Sithole and Suna Venter.
by Justin Foxton | Aug 4, 2017 | Citizen Participation, Democracy
“A black child born today is more likely to be born into poverty than a white child…..Twenty-three years into democracy this is simply not good enough.” Rob Davies – Trade and Industry Minister.
As I ready myself to speak, I am acutely aware of the irony of the situation: a privileged school asking me to facilitate a dialogue session with learners on the topic of “Privilege and the Youth’s Identity”. Place that school in the affluent Upper-Highway area of KwaZulu Natal and the challenge is akin to the infamous Comrades climb up nearby Field’s Hill. But they are up for it and so am I so the irony is overshadowed by their bravery. Would that more schools would emulate Thomas More College and grasp the stinging nettles of our time so fearlessly.
500 or so learners of varying ages pile into the school hall and take their seats in grades on the floor. I am sat up front with a panel of 6 students representing all grades, colours and genders. We begin the conversation with a bit of a warm up question: “What is your understanding of the word privilege?”
There are those times when hope and possibility rise. Even whilst – from time-to-time – succumbing to anxiety and even anger over the state of our nation (the capture of our state that continues to make statements like the above from Rob Davies true, is a case in point), something happens and I know that everything is going to be okay. This is one of those times. As the youngsters speak I find myself transported beyond their words and into a space that is really nothing less than the new, New South Africa. These millennials are so clear; so passionate; more thoughtful and considered than just about any adult I have spoken to of late. They know the issues; they care and it is clear and they will be the source of the healing of our nation.
Their answers are informed; all variations on a dictionary definition of privilege: “A special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group.” Their heads are full of knowledge and they speak with assurance. You can tell this is a school that teaches kids how to think.
But of course, my job is to challenge them to think more deeply about what privilege really looks like in the real world; what it smells like if you will. I have just 20 minutes and I want them to be repulsed by the pungent stench of inequality.
And suddenly, the academic privilege dissipates; it means nothing as reality bites: “Are you all equally privileged?” I ask. “Some of us are more privileged than others,” replies one very thoughtful young black man.
“Did you know that in South Africa, women earn around 28% less than men?” A ripple of shock goes across the hall: “And ladies, don’t think you’ll be better off if you leave the country,” I say looking to add a touch of humour: “In the US women earn around 21% less than men.” Another ripple of horror and the voicing of disgust from our panel. They are grappling hard with these facts in the face of their perceived equality. “According to Statistics South Africa, black South Africans earn on average just 20% as much as their white counterparts.” The shock now is eerily silent.
“I want to do something to practically demonstrate what all this looks like,” I say somewhat reticently. I ask the young black lady to push her chair back several feet so that she is excluded from the group and I instruct the two on either side of her to close the gap in front of her. I do the same with the young black man and the Indian girl. It was an exercise that I had planned to do with them but I must say that I felt ill doing it. It felt so wrong; sick in fact.
I asked them if this process was okay; if this was acceptable what I was doing: “No!” cried a young girl emotionally from the front of the panel. I ask them if we should bring the outsiders back and they all say we should. We welcome them warmly back in and I explain as gently as possible that this is the harsh reality of privilege; inclusion or exclusion based on nothing more than your colour or gender.
They begin to suggest ways that they can personally counter inequality and the young black lady – still visibly emotional from the activity – delivers a line I shall never forget: “I am going to ask white people what they have that I don’t.” It’s like a punch to the guts.
This whole assembly – including the topic – was arranged by an organization run purely by pupils; the Thomas More Current Affairs Youth Council. Teachers and senior members of the school had nothing to do with it. To these brave pupils, I salute you all for being willing to ‘go there’; for being willing to hold up a mirror to your society and yourselves. You are the light of a bright and beautiful future for South Africa; a future where every child – no matter their colour or gender – has equal opportunity.
Justin Foxton is founder of The Peace Agency.
His writing is dedicated to the memory of Anene Booysens, Emmanuel Josias Sithole and Suna Venter.
by Justin Foxton | Mar 9, 2015 | Citizen Participation, Democracy, Orphans & Vulnerable Children
“To be is to do” – Socrates
Whether we are aware of it or not we create the world we live in. In artistic terms each of us is continuously adding to the ever-changing universal canvas. Our mere existence has an impact on the environment and the way we live our lives exerts a certain pressure on the world causing it to shift in microcosmic ways as we get about our lives. Our daily parenting choices mould our children, the way we speak builds or breaks people; the choices we make concerning dignity, respect, humanity, tolerance and equality shape the world around us. We are powerful beyond our wildest imaginings.
This is at once humbling and extremely exciting for we have had placed in our hands the ability to influence our world either for good or for bad.
The question is, what kind of world am I helping to create? More specifically – what kind of South Africa am I helping to create?
This is a real bugger of a question because at a most basic level it suggests that – at least in part – what we see going on around us is of our own creation. Now before you hurl your newspaper/computer into the nearest recycling bin be aware that the world around us is made up of both good and bad – not just bad. So when considering how I am impacting the world around me I must reflect honestly on both of these aspects so that that I can challenge myself to become more of a creator for good.
But the most critical part of all this happens as we realise our power to change/create the world around us. When people get a taste of this reality they become passionate to do just that. Some of them may interpret this in an evil way others in a good way. But what is clear is that when this realisation strikes it becomes impossible to remain passive.
If we become passionate to influence the world for good it shows up in a number of ways in us including; little or no negativity; a ruthless avoidance of revenge; a passionate desire to see people reach their full potential; a passionate desire to see the country succeed; an uncompromising adherence to the law; compassion for self and others.
You may know of people who exhibit some of these values and behaviours. It is not that they have necessarily given up their lives to start soup kitchens or read to the aged (though these are wonderful things to do if you are so inclined). It is simply that they have taken the time to reflect on themselves and how they can contribute to the creation of a better world. Even in the reflection there is a degree of change because as we change so the environment around us changes.
I have been privileged to write this column for close on 5 years. During this time I have asked each of us to do just what I am describing above; reflect on how we can help to build our beloved country. I have suggested that we greet one another regardless of race, gender or religion; that we pick up litter on our verges and fix what is broken in our neighbourhoods; that we quit our negativity and acknowledge what is working in our country; that we stop using racist language. I have asked that we consider adoption or that we mentor a child.
Readers of this column have supplied nearly 600 impoverished school girls with a 3 year supply of washable sanitary pads enabling them to stay in school during their periods; you have given funds to help restock shops looted during the xenophobic attacks in Gauteng; you have mentored dozens of vulnerable kids throughout the Durban area. It has been an incredible journey.
And I am really excited to let you know that the journey continues with the launch of my book called The Flipside. It is a collection of my columns published here in The Mercury and has been generously sponsored by the Democracy Development Program. We will be launching the book soon and I would like to invite readers to that launch where you will receive a free, personalised copy of the book. All you have to do is e-mail in and tell me a story of what you are doing/have done – big or small – to help create a South Africa we can all be proud of. The first 20 respondents will be sent an official invitation. My e-mail address is justin@peaceagency.org.za
I look forward to meeting you at the launch.
This column is dedicated to the memory of 17 year old Anene Booysens: gang raped, mutilated and murdered.
by Justin Foxton | Oct 31, 2014 | Citizen Participation, Orphans & Vulnerable Children, Women & Gender Issues
One of my hardest lessons in recent years has been what 19th Century Saint Therese of Lisieux called “The Little Way”. She was a simple Catholic nun who came to a profound understanding of the fact that change – redemption if you like – occurs only as we embrace The Little Way and embark on a life of small, intentional acts of love and compassion and repeat them often.
If like me you wish to see and even be a part of big and immediate personal and societal change then this is a very bitter pill to swallow – particularly in a country with so many issues.
Take education as an example. Captured in a recent front page article entitled “Matric drop-out rate ‘scary’”, the state of education in South Africa is a genuine concern for most of us but seemingly too vast to do anything about.
But the question we must ask is, what does such a vast issue look like in the context of the Little Way?
Enter the humble sanitary pad.
More than 60% of girls in our country stay away from school for up to a week during their period simply because they cannot afford sanitary products. Over the course of a year these young ladies could feasibly miss between 70 and 80 days of school. This contributes to the vast numbers of school kids who enroll in grade 2 but who drop out before Matric.
Enter Sue Barnes – founder of non-profit organisation Project Dignity which distributes Subz Pads and Pants. These are fully washable, reusable sanitary pad-cum-pantie sets designed specifically for less privileged girls. A pack containing 2 100% cotton panties and 6 ultra-absorbent, multi-layered washable pads costs just R130 and will last for 3 years.
This is a classic example of the Little Way becoming the big way. Just R130 can change a young girl’s life and provide her with the products she needs to keep attending school.
As a result of recent events that led to the writing of this post (the original version appeared in The Mercury) The Peace Agency will be partnering with Project Dignity to help provide more girls with washable sanitary pads. We will begin by supporting an existing initiative working into needy schools around Richards Bay and we will go from there.
If you would like to sponsor a Project Destiny girl at R130 for a 3 year supply of washable, reusable sanitary pads please contact me on justin@peaceagency.org.za
Let us do this together so that the Little Way may one day become the big way.
This column is dedicated to the memory of 17 year old Anene Booysens: gang raped, mutilated and murdered.
