“People must not just give into the hardships of life. They must find a way, even in this environment to develop hope, hope for themselves, hope for this country.”
~ Steve Biko
Biko,
Tomorrow, we will commemorate your life and the indelible mark you left on Black life. We will remember how your writing and action aligned around Ubuntu and the value of Black life. I am the first to admit that I was raised in a different political tradition. Worse still, my adult life has been consumed by how the vision expressed in the preamble of our Constitution could be brought to life.1
By chance, I found myself litigating in an organisation that aligned itself with the poor in informal settlements, farmlands and the inner city. It stood with them wherever it found them, oppressed by employers in the farms, threatened with eviction in the urban core or intimidated by political elites. At my interview in December of 2012, I was convinced that I would not make the cut. I firmly believed that I lacked the intellectual depth to defend so great a vision.
I was surprised when I was appointed to join the organisation, effectively being granted the front row to see how that vision can embolden poor Black people calling for justice in all parts of this country at times through protest, others through litigation and at other times when our people are heard by their government and those with power.
The latter are the moments that give us hope. Less than ten years ago our government heard our youth’scall to widen the gates to higher education, and we saw the conversion of our national financial aid scheme into a full bursary, while also extending it to reach many whose parents could not fund their higher education.The moment also ensured the insourcing of cleaning, security and garden staff at higher education institutions, winning a war that had been lost by organised labour in the early 2000s.
On this day, where we honour the legacy you left behind, I want us to remember that you were a medical student who had been expelled when you were recruited to join the Black Community Programmes, a project which would fuse the radical Christianity2 (of the South African Council of Churches, the Christian Institute and others) with Black Consciousness. It would be your banishment to Ginsberg which would enable King William’s Town to flourish as a centre of Black Conscious thought and action. The banishment meant that you could not be quoted in the press or be published but were able to engage with people close to the place where you were born at a whisper’s distance.
I am celebrating this because I keep looking for the headlines to find the important work being done to preserve Black life. I am remembering it because even now, in quiet corners of this country Black life is being preserved one conversation at a time, one social connection at a time and one open door at a time.
I am celebrating that the holders of social, economic and political power can partner for the preservation of Black life.
A big part of SERI’s work is about land, and since today is about celebration, I want to celebrate a critical moment aligned to our work - the establishment of the Land Court through the enactment of the Land Court Act, which acknowledged where we were on the Land question by publishing its preamble:
The Land Court Act was partly possible because lawyers worked hand in hand with our government. Imagine Biko, the legal profession that you could have been part of still works for our people.
Rest in Power.
[1] I am an unapologetic constitutional evangelist.
[2] Liberation and Development: Black Consciousness Community Programs in South Africa by Leslie Anne Hadfield. For the Program's history and Biko’s involvement.
[ENDS]
>> Download the open letter here.