From the book: The Diary of Maria Tholo by Carol Hermer
It's two and a half years since Maria said those words. Things stayed tense but quiet in Cape Town during 1977. The students concentrated on their studies. 61, 7 percent of those who wrote the special February examinations passed, so few lost a year of their educational lives.
In Soweto the rebellion continued sporadically through much of 1977 and many schools remained half empty. Police surveillance was ever present throughout the country. All people considered dangerous to the government, and this included trade unionists, publishers and black ministers, were clamped down on by arrest or banning.
But there have been changes in South African government policy towards blacks. Whatever they said at the time of the riots, the threat of chaos made people finally aware of the depths of black discontent.
There is no longer a Minister of Bantu Education. Bowing to popular pressure, the name switched through the improbably named Department of Plural Relations to the Department of Cooperation and Development. The present minister called on people who were respected in the townships, instead of the usual government appointees, to advise him on matters affecting urban blacks. Prime Minister, P.W. Botha, made an historic visit to Soweto to inspect conditions for himself and indicated that many of the irritating, but not fundamental, aspects of apartheid would go.
Two government-appointed commissions recommended major changes in the labour and pass law legislation affecting blacks, but when their reports were first presented to parliament as bills, the recommendations were considerably watered down. The definition of 'illegal blacks' was changed. While stiffer penalties to keep new black job seekers out of the urban areas were announced, a moratorium on those already in regular but illegal employment was declared.
When the new labour legislation was introduced and trade unions for blacks were finally made legal, only people who qualiÂfied as 'urban' were allowed to join them. But Minister of Labour, Fanie Botha, realised this did not go far enough and six months later extended the provision to include all South African - and independent homeland - blacks.
Mining, on which the economy of South Africa still primarily depends, was left largely unhampered by the change. 78 per cent of black labourers on the mines are foreigners. It was the whites in skilled and semi-skilled jobs who felt threatened. They were afraid that their jobs would become open to black South African workers who would do the same work for much lower pay.
Agriculture, the other primary industry, employs many more South African blacks than foreigners, but it is an extremely difficult area in which to organise unions.
The phenomenal rise in the price of gold has led to an upswing throughout the South African economy and therefore increased employment. During periods of prosperity, society is always more open to change. But gold prices have also fallen in the past and though their economic conditions have improved, blacks have still no more political rights than in 1976.
How have the changes affected Maria and her family? She still runs her school. Her daughter, Shelley, is attending the first diploma course for blacks in pre-school education in the Western Cape and is doing well. Nomsa writes her Junior Certificate at the end of this year and intends going on to Matric. Maria still dreams that the girls will leave the country when their education is completed.
Her father died soon after the conclusion of the diary, but her mother would not move in with the Tholos, preferring to keep her independence. She also insisted on continuing to work despite near-crippling arthritis.
Maria can patronise a few more places of entertainment but the cinemas remain segregated. She can eat at some restaurants but they and all private enterprises can choose not to be open to black patrons. There are a few extra miles of beach open to everyone and a multiracial picnic is no longer impossible.
The Cape Town bus company desegregated, which made travelling in the white suburbs much easier, but fares have risen and the service to the townships remains overcrowded and slow. Her friend, who does domestic work, must plan on leaving Guguletu two hours before she needs to be at her place of employment.
The oil crisis has affected Maria more than it has her white friends. She earns less, therefore is an easier victim of inflation. Her transport costs are higher because she lives so far from town, and food bought locally still costs much more than in the white areas.
Guguletu township, along with Nyanga and Langa, remain the only official living areas for blacks in Cape Town and whites still need permits to enter them. The official designation of the Western Cape as a 'coloured' preference area persists. But even though under present government policy their house will never belong to them, the Tholos have transformed it. They are one of the few black families who through hard work and fortunate job circumstances have been able to save money and make extensions. The new lounge dining room boasts a six-piece suite and a colour TV. Maria's great pride is her remodelled kitchen complete with an eye-level oven and custombuilt cabinets. At last they don't have to go outside to use the bathroom.
The traditionally-inclined members of their families wanted to sacrifice a sheep at the party to celebrate the refurbishing of their home but Maria was adamant about buying the meat pre-packed from a city supermarket.
The Urban Foundation, formed in the wake of the riots, has had a greater direct effect on the Tholos than government action. Created by big white business, aware of the importance of a contented labour force for the continuation of profitable industry and commerce, it is a fund earmarked for improvements in townÂship living conditions. It has helped erect and support preschools and adult education centres. It has instituted care for the aged, among many other projects. Gus, Maria and the girls go jogging every evening round one of the new sports stadiums erected by the Foundation.
So for the few comparatively well-off families like the Tholos, life, within its many restrictions, can be comfortable. And the great South African gamble is that comfort will breed passivity and conservatism, an attitude of 'I'm alright, Jack,' with or withÂout political rights. But whether the increase in numbers of the black bourgeoisie will be fast enough to offset pressure from the left, is another question. And will the new bourgeoisie not demand the power that usually goes with a rise in status?
Pressure for change from white voices has been continuous since 1976 but so has resistance to it. Outsiders are accustomed to regarding the South African situation as a polarisation between white and black, but within the country one is also conscious of a right wing threat. At first regarded as a bunch of unimportant ultra-conservatives, the Herstigte Nasionale Party has increased its support at every by-election and each concession towards rights for blacks helps it further. On the other side, these same concessions attract supporters away from the near-impotent white opposition parties to the ruling Nationalists.
There is also a network of black politics of which whites are barely aware because it cannot be expressed in Parliament. The few black political leaders of whom whites have heard are mostly in jail or banned and thus silent. The death of Steve Biko was an event that rocked the black community like nothing else had since the riots. Yet at that time few South African whites, even the so-called 'liberal' ones, had heard of him.
Newspapers tend not to give prominence to people who don't have visible power and the access to power is government-controlled. Gatsha Buthelezi, leader of the KwaZulu homeland, is regarded by South Africans as 'the' black leader, because his moderate criticisms of the government policy are frequently reported.
One suspects that many of the future leaders of Azania, as the liberation movements call South Africa, are no longer in the country. The students who fled to the camps in 1976 have spread. Some went to the military training camps and are now slowly infiltrating as guerilla fighters. Only the army knows the extent of guerilla activity at the present time. Others are studying abroad, many of them in the U.S. How and when they will return no one knows.
The situation is far from static. Events in S.W.A./Namibia as well as in Zimbabwe must reach a resolution before the spotlight of change focuses on South Africa. But unless the course of recent African political history changes, Maria's final words can only come true.