Listening to the silent majority

[98]

Sam Mabe is a journalist who is sincerely interested in the youth of his country, as he has written on various occasions in The Sowetan. On May 28, 1989, the Student Sociology Society at Vista University in Soweto arranged for an Africa Day program. The students invited professor

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Es'kia Mpahlele and Sam as speakers. Towards noon I drove out to Soweto to attend the meeting.

At first, the audience consisted of about 50 students. But gradually, more young people and a few parents trickled in and by mid-afternoon the amphitheatre-like room was filled to capacity with some 200 people, mostly students. For me, that afternoon turned into a unique event. I listened and watched faces, reactions, laughter, humour, in short, I sat as the sole white man - and, of course, as the only journalist from overseas - in an inconspicuous spot amongst genuine African youths and learned more in a few hours about black people in general than from all the books or movies I had seen and read abroad.

Fortunately, the language that was being used was English, except for some passages during the reading of revolutionary poetry. There was lots and lots of music, some of it absolutely beautiful. For instance, there were at one point six players with cymbals of a dozen or more brass plates performing. What these six guys managed to perform in musical sound was stunning. In a way, it reminded me of the gamelan music of the island of Java. There also was an elaborate fashion show and, of course, there was a speech by Sam Mabe, after which I had to leave. Once, there was a reference to apartheid by the student entertainer, who filled the gaps between performances by presenting information, comments and an occasional joke. He said that during a summit between Robert Mugabe, Kenneth Kaunda and PW Botha is was decided the three leaders should call each other by their first name. Mugabe said, ‘Call me Bob.’ Kaunda suggested, they call him ‘kk’. Then, the State President thought a long time and finally said, ‘Call me “baas”.’ It goes to show the good-naturedness of the atmosphere. There was one single reference to the fact that since the national emergency was continuing it was hoped that the Soweto Police would not come and close the more-or-less unauthorised meeting.

After a while an absolutely beautiful girl came to fetch me. She wanted me to sit in the first row among the invited guests. I objected at first since I liked the general view my position gave me. But, she took my hand and firmly escorted me to the special seat. The general feeling that had moved me during that afternoon was one of strong attachment to these young people, seeing them in action. Perhaps I was also asking myself whether whites did not grossly underestimate the thinking power and creative expression in word, music and the arts of black people, par-

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ticularly black students. I enjoyed every minute I was there amongst them. It was like inhaling a breath of genuine African ‘air’. As a matter of fact, I wrote to Sam Mabe afterwards and asked if he knew perhaps of a way for me to lecture one evening a week on international affairs or international reporting at Vista University. He did not bother to reply.