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African Renaissance

On the page the novelist-poet questions in Kiran Bhat’s seminal work: We of the Forsaken World

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The passionate outsider is people. Male people, female people, the displaced, dispossessed who live within the boundaries and structures of psychological extremes.

In a broken world of country made up of leaving our sorrows behind, painters and poets who turn into novelists everything is either temporal or temporary.We have lived in a normative depressive age for centuries with automatic thoughts of cognitive semantics, highly nuanced disordered thinking, personality disorder, dysfunctional world beliefs and we have been indoctrinated by journalists and television evangelists of the like that the world has never seen, propaganda, by war, by silent protest, art and culture and the emotive language of film. That most dramatic of all the arts. When it comes to, We of the Forsaken World the novel is mapped into sections.It teaches us by all possible dimensions, by theorisations of the elements of what drives both the tribe and the individual from the asphalt jungle of the city, to the rural countryside, to the ergonomics of the digital divide, and, by any means necessary, yes, we can look at the context in which race matters, for is it not race that matters tantamount to anything else in society. We must look at inter-faith matters with authenticity, what qualifies us to conceptualisation, anti-racialisation, the technique and style of has always been versions of the catharsis of anti-black racism, the false enchantment of ultra-democracy on the diaspora, uncommodified racism, and that yesterday’s powers are in co-existence with the science of the instrumentalist, the race of sustained commitment, unity and solidarity in defiance, the use of resources, and the under-representation of the Non-European, the African.

As it stands, the Non-European, the African is colour blind to their own potential, order, structure and shape. Ultimately, the discourse must transcend race, the elite and the establishment. The discussion must devise implementation. The complex debate must give rise to vigour and understanding our mentality, how vulnerable and conditioned our understanding of the psyche and intellect is of the marginalised, conditioned and disadvantaged tribe cast out of society because they do not conform to the norms and values of what and who a fixed and inter-dependant society thinks is relevant and socially, politically important. The elite are the wealthy, the educated, the prosperous, the intellectual, but how did they become part of the elite if they didn’t inherit their wealth, or education, or their prosperity, or their intellect. I believe it is through the clarity of the mind, the practice of perfecting the subtle nuances in the brain. All we are, are but segments of text in the ultra-nationalism of what I call the “tribalsystem”. What is the tribal system, what is it based upon, who created it, a philosopher or theologian? There is a social expectation on both genders, racial prejudice that exists between younger and older women. Labyrinths dominated by men thinking with anti-colonial non-racialism and racial prejudice.

During apartheid South Africa words such as “boycott’, “socialist”, “the order”, “non-collaboration”, “refusal to organise communities” were espoused and a door was opened into the psyche of a divided nation, highly politicised, and the aftermath of that has been xenophobia. The design and principles of Kiran Bhat’s book is the writing of an intellectual. It invents criteria. Presented as a language model to bridge situation, conflict, class, knowledge, distinction. It is the story of a poet, an open door, a master revival act, social justice around the issues of poverty, disadvantages, rise in crime and unemployment amongst university graduates as well as school leavers. This conception of the world is filled with highly multifunctional characters with political, inter-cultural, religion, social, territory, nationality, and borders as the new vocabulary, the curriculum is at work deliberately, predominantly where the interplay between the apparatus and the appraisal is connected now meets the contextual. With comparison comes language, with a new dispensation comes a new curriculum, a new government, a new cabinet, new leaders, new debate, discussion, reasoning, different expertise set into motion.

Kiran Bhat is a young lion who has the background of a poet. His ideas put forward in this book are phenomenally socio-forward-thinking. As he struggles for recognition and searching for grace, concept and narrative, style and technique and legacies of the past with their transitional figures of prophecy, realism and modernism, at the end of the day he finds himself standing in the gap of both philosopher and theologian. We think that the fixed and variant sociological ideas of a society transitioning itself into an ultra-democracy wills itself against the grain of neo-conceptualisation. For myself, I think that we live with three identities in a leading European discourse, the metamorphosis of the working classes to the Black elite in Africa, and the Black working-class individuals exist in their own pool of thought. We have to look at the social identity in the context of experimental identity and the complex identity of the co-dependent, inter-dependent and non-active participant as individuals, build their identity as such on the premise of an ultra-democratic nation built upon socialisation, social cohesion, and the integrational.

What is uppermost for me are the internal portraits of the mind which are not that nothing is played out in the scenarios of that, that have been exposed to being very powerfully overt before being rejected completely by the medical fraternity and the scientific community. What propels nature versus nurture? The brain, interpersonal relationships, social participation and interaction, social skills, the advances made in technology, artificial intelligence, the information communication technology, sexuality and exposure to the spoiled identity, the identity which does not conform, and that the agendas of consistent stigma, labelling and discrimination attaches itself to. How to we detach from alienation religions, factions, conflict situations that may lead to war and civil unrest, isolation from your peers, family and contemporaries and society due to illness, abandonment and neglect, rejecting that early and astute renaissance state of denial, denial, denial.

We must now look to past diplomatic studies, diplomatic treatises, modern diplomatic lessons in authenticity, reconciliation and negotiation as we navigate the treacherous waters of the world that we ae living in today. Understanding corruption at the highest level of government, making mental health awareness programmes mandatory for all age groups in society to prevent the cycle of depression and the narrative of mental illness and maladaptive behaviour,  phasing history back into the curriculum so that all children can understand the group dynamic of the nuclear family, their heritage, culture, tradition and social inclusion into modern society. For us to sustain life and youth, we need the renewal and vigour of both not to diminish in the face of all the problems and challenges that the world faces today.

We live in a social world that has an internal point of reference and an external locus point of control. The people in that world are oftentimes ambiguous and leave us with contradictory impressions. The conception of the world around us is what we make of it. If you only take one thing away from this nexus of this book, the interplay, the roleplaying, the flux of the nature of a digitised community advancing towards a macro-economic dystopia think of the world becoming more inter-connected, people from all walks of life inter-relating to each other on the spiritual level, with a novel understanding of each other’s cognitive, emotional and verbal reasoning. In the future we will correspond with technology in much the same way a man like Nikola Tesla did. It will become child’s play. 

Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominated shortlisted and longlisted poet Abigail George is a recipient of four writing grants from the National Arts Council, the Centre for Book and ECPACC. She briefly studied film, writes for The Poet, is an editor at MMAP and Contributing Writer at African Writer. She is a blogger, essayist, writer of several short stories, novellas and has ventured out to write for film with two projects in development . She was recently interviewed for Sentinel, and the BBC.

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African Renaissance

Thoughts From the Frontline

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Photo: Keenan Constance/Unsplash

“Hip/Hop, Trap. I would describe my music as different, unique, compared to what I hear in the music industry in South Africa. It is a different sound of genre based on hip hop. In my downtime I listen to artists like Mexikodro, Playboi Carti, Diego Money, Pyrex Whippa, Lil Gotit and Sahbabii. In my life my family has been and still is a major influence, I just want to see them happy and stress free. I want to be successful so that they can spend the rest of lives living comfortably. I chose music because I believe that it is something I’m good at. I wouldn’t call myself a musical genius, or say that I’m talented musically because I’m not but, I have taken the time to learn everything that I know today, I started as a rapper, but now I am a producer as well, a very good one if I should say, I mix and master vocals, well I try to. It is still something I am learning on a daily basis and I believe that one day if not soon, I will understand that aspect of music. The guys who I record with are so gifted at what they do, we really inspire each other to take it to the next level. I would be lying if I said that I inspire myself, well maybe I do, I don’t know, however what I do know is that we can go to the next level together because nowadays you rarely see a duo or a group of rappers in the South African music industry, there are 4 of us in our group including others who aren’t full time as yet, I think that makes the odds better for us to take it to the next level as opposed to being a solo” SUPREME ZEE, CEO OF Holidae Don’t Stop!

“What inspires me to take it to the next level is basically my daughter, Family and my everyday experiences growing up and living in Westbury losing friends and family to gang violence had a huge effect on me since a young age I’ve been through hell and back if I may describe in short and I’ve realized, to make it out you really need to dig deep. This is also one of the main reasons why I started writing music. I love Music, it is my passion that is mainly why I chose to make music, ever since a young age I’ve just been through the worst writing music and articulating every word I write is therapeutic. Manifesting and having faith in God has carried me through. Major influences in my life remains God, my baby girl, my family and obviously my Team Holidae Dont Stop! We always encourage one another to do our best we definitely do bring out the best in each other and I’d say the beats that supreme Zee creates brings out the best in me personally and it’s also one of the major influences in my music career it’s only elevated since the moment we started. In my down time I listen to All types of music mostly Gospel & HDS. I would describe my music as being one in a million very versatile, real and unusually different from the usual and it has an unorthodox flow and style to it so you can literally expect only the best” TheGR8ACE, CEO and co-founder of Holidae Dont Stop!

My inspiration comes from knowing that I have a God given talent and my friends (HDS) and family that motivates me day to day to do better. I chose music because as a hobby it is something I love doing which started out in high school where I had friends that used to rap over beats and I’d just stand within the circle and listen to their rhymes and it became to amuse me when I found out that there are people in my community creating their own music, whereas in 2019, I linked with the crew Holidae Dont Stop! and it has been a wonderful journey ever since! Learning and growing at the same time. My mother has played a role as one of my biggest inspirations including friends (HDS) have been a major Influence in my life, for they always pushed me to be a better me. Not giving up on me and providing not bad advice but love and positivity. I’ve been in difficult situation in the past and I am just trying to make a better standard of living for my family, my friends as well as my community (Westbury). In my down time I listen to various genres like Rock, Rnb, Hip/Hop, Rap, Emo Rap. I would describe our music as Western Plug for it derives from Hip-hop with an offbeat including 808s and guitar and piano samples that Supreme Zee (Producer) recreates and when hearing the beat, I can automatically put my heart on it.” Bando -recording Artist at Holidae Dont Stop!

 To conclude this, we are all from Johannesburg South Africa as one of our members spread across as far as Cape Town, temporarily. Our member who are not full time are – Leiph Camp (Splaash66) Stock broker, Razaak Benjamin (Glock) Salesman and Marion Reyners (Marion The Great) Facilitator. “Our music is Bold, Iconic and timeless” TheGr8ce. Our crew is based in Jozi (Johannesburg) although we do not have a manager as yet. Our follow up record will sound similar to the “Western Plug tape” that we have recently released, followed by 3 singles. Plug is a genre that derives itself from Hip-Hop and our next single will drop in 2 weeks. The link to our music is on all platforms and the Love and support would be much appreciated. We literally wont stop! –

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African Renaissance

Slavery and the real life bending sinister

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What is slavery? It is nothing more than poverty of the mind. It is not a school of thought or a philosophy. It is scarcity. It is lack. It is cumbersome. It is heavy. It is a burden.

What does it have to do with politics? Ask what it has to do with genocide.

What does it have to do with the power of having a slave mentality? Just as easily as we rise, we fall. A leaf. Ask yourself this. Does the leaf or gravity have the slave mentality or is it just a path to its consciousness, and if it is a meandering path to its consciousness what does that make of gravity? Gravity is easily the culprit or saboteur. A cup carries water but how does the water break through the physical wellness of the body to sate thirst, how does water flow through the universal meridians and find sanctuary in all the wild places that the ocean cannot contain, in code, in which case what observations come out of these natural and bohemian studies.

A slave is a slave is a slave. My grandfather was a slave. My great-grandfather was a slave. On both the paternal and maternal side they are non-existent for me. I live for my father. My father is not a slave. You see his mind is not enslaved. His psyche, his mental, emotional, physical wellness, intellectual prowess and integrity is intact inasmuch as he is not a slave to the peculiarities and eccentricities of the people he finds himself amongst.

In the stages of my own life I can see that I have been enslaved (my mindset and attitude was) by my body image, my identity of cosmic Africa, the cosmos, my self as an African, what I was entitled to, my basic self esteem. I was a slave to my sister, her dalliances, her whiteness, her renouncing Africa for America then Europe and I understood what loneliness, family, friendship and family finally meant and this frightened me a great deal because I realised I had never really loved myself before. I was a slave to every moment up until I heard James Baldwin speak up. I had truly been a slave to waiting for someone to release me and offer me relief somehow from this kind of suffering and cognitive thinking. I wanted happiness but the price for my freedom was this. Somebody else had to love me before I could.

Ask what slavery has cost us as humanity. Look back at history. When I look back at history, all my life I never felt safe. Whether it was the bogeyman, or a horror film, or apartheid, or reading about apartheid, acknowledging it was the difficult part. How would you even begin that dialogue? What could you partner with those hectic images that left you with an urgency and a sense of betrayal from God? So, I grew up with an unpleasant disdain for middle class families in South Africa. It was easy for me to picture them as racist which they were and still are to a certain degree and yet how could I not be? The thought of slavery and decolonization never left me even as a child as I sought to fight for the betterment of society and to right all the evil wrongs.

Slavery is everything. It is primitive. It is visible if you look hard enough. We haven’t even begun to talk about or discuss in rational terms without venting or becoming agitated or irrational about race relations in South Africa or slavery as a concept or narrative in Africa.

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African Renaissance

On watching David Mamet in an African context

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His boots made a squelching sound. In the whorl of her ear a squelching noise on the welcome home mat. The man was quick. The girl was slow. The woman was slow to speak. She was slow to communicate what she was thinking and feeling. The secret part of the actor was valid. Her fear, anxiety and chemistry becoming like the flapping wings of a Bach woman. After the interview came the hurricane. Late morning the man realizes his mistake. The woman remembers her parents’ relationship from childhood. The man remembers how the young woman looked the day he married her. He remembers their courtship and the day they got married. How he squinted at her through the sunlight that fell upon her hair that day at the beach. He had gone fishing. Caught nothing.

He had left her alone to read a magazine on the beach. The town was near decay. It was a tourist destination for the mega rich.  She will think one day (the girl inside of her) that she married the wrong one.  The apparitions come at night. The snow in winter. David Mamet is a mega rich American writer and Republican intellectual. He has made it. Millions won’t. Millions idolize him. Thousands want to be him. They want to live his life for him. They admire him for living so well. There is driftwood on the beach. The chips of wood are like a magnet almost as if they are chipping away something of life at the root heart of humanity. There is always a story to be told from life, from everything. Everyone has a story to tell. The girl sighs with a thousand other girls. Her soul is bitter. She has lost something. She feels she has lost everything because the guy has up and left her stranded with the baby. What is she thinking, what is she feeling? David Mamet is a well-known playwright. In a shining circle the bleak ones live in this world feeling nothing. Existing on the fringes of this life world. They wait in unison for the hereafter. I realize my mistake now. The young girl fell for the wrong guy. The twig sucks me in. The man walks in beauty. Wild geese are calling with a purpose. Music in Africa has its own language.

We are conditioned to think that nothing lasts forever in politics. The only thing that really lasts is a story. It has prophecy and legacy combined. Which one lasts longer? What of our playwrights and our songwriters? It is a summer evening. People are dancing in the street. The smell of barbecue is smoky. She looks at her face as she passes a shop window that is brightly lit up and doesn’t recognize her own face. The wretched and forlorn look upon her face. The young girl smells of bloom ad smoke. She thought she would give it up for Lent. David Mamet is a world-famous director and writer who understands the nature of art and truth when it comes to telling and writing original stories. He started his own theatre company. He married an actress. Conquerors know of miracles. The house has a room that has been standing empty for years. The naming of parts comes with having a range of intelligence, scrutiny, wearing a sorrowful mask, understanding suffering. The woman has a slender body. The actress has a stunning face. The woman has a confession. There is a sharp intake of breath as the man’s fist comes crashing down on the table. You cut your finger with a kitchen knife. Remember, the day you cut your finger with the kitchen knife. Or was it really your fingernail?

The director goes back and forth, back and forth cutting between the tension and the dialogue of the actors. He walks them through their paces. The actors take a well-deserved break. They talk and interact with each other. They smoke and laugh. The girl throughs her head back and sounds silly when she tries to put everyone else at ease when she is not with her own performance. There is some insecurity there. Some self-doubt. They run lines. The gravity of the thing comes into view. We all struggle. Don’t we all, someone in the group says. There are confessions. Then there are more confessions with a trimmed and a manicured nail. I am getting old. I can feel it in my bones. The flesh of my flesh was very tender that day I cut my finger with the kitchen knife. I sliced it like a pear. Prizes make you happy and sad. Here is the ballad of a growing intimacy, a camaraderie amongst the actors in this theatre company. They mill around. No one wants to end the flow of the conversation. They want to work. They don’t want to go home yet. It means sitting at home alone for some. It means a lonely night. The beauty of the dahlias is complicated. Will there be real flowers or plastic fruit on opening night on the table? My sister doesn’t phone to talk to me.

When she does telephone, she speaks to my mother. I wish I was more real than having this kind of a fake personality.  The actress is deciding whether to paint her toenails a fire engine red to stay in character. Pain helps you to grow. If you forsake pain, you also forsake growth. All of us should conquer something in life. Let us go into the wild that is calling. My life has always been on this path.

On the edge of uncertainty. My soul is gone to tell you the truth. It has lost a bit of its own mystery.

When I speak of David Mamet, I think that in the context of Africa that there is the worker Mamet in all of us. Whether it comes to the tradition of oral storytelling or not, the linear arrangement of the goal of the storyline or in the sheltered pose of the actor reading their lines from a script. The past slips out of its calling. Its shell of water. It passes away into nothingness. That means absolutely nothing and everything to me.

I feel it coming. I feel it coming on. Turning me around. This lonely night. Beyond the trees I feel the thaw.

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