Lerato Tshabalala: Blacks need to take back power by being excellent

1. It’s a rollercoaster of emotions Did you consciously set out to be controversial with the book? 

Not at all! I thought the book may be slightly controversial, however, I was amazed by firstly, how quickly the response came, literally a few days after the book hit the shelves, and secondly, just how some people took their thoughts to levels I had not anticipated, so yes, it’s been a rollercoaster, but one that has really created so many platforms for me to share not just my book, but my thoughts on South Africa today. 

2. Do you think the responses have been too politically correct? 

Well, I guess I expected different kinds of reactions, and for now, most have come from people who have not had the opportunity to read my whole book, so I’ve had to take some reactions into context because I know that they have been based on the shortened extract published by Sunday Times last weekend. It’s difficult to say whether they have been too politically correct because that’s almost not my place to say, I think they’ve been an honest reflection of how our society feels about race issues at the moment. However, what I’ve found is more and more people are reading the book and as a result, the reaction is beginning to be more holistic. 

3. Do you think satire is too policed – or should we have limits? 

Well South Africa is a wonderful place to be because of our ability to express ourselves freely as people, writers and artists and so I don’t think limits are necessary at all. The fact that Penguin Random House even published this type of book is indicative of the fact that people are open to different opinions. The policing is mostly from the people themselves and that too is a beautiful thing; that is what freedom is. 

4. Did you expect the Twitter response? 

I knew there’d be a reaction, but I was surprised by some of it. Ironically the first chapter in the book is about the power of social media and how, Twitter specifically, has managed to give people who wouldn’t otherwise have a voice a platform for them to be able to express their views. As a writer, I respect the power of social media. We must remember that black people in this country didn’t have a voice because of apartheid so it’s constructive for ‘black twitter’ to come for me as hard as it did. Yes, some of the nastiness shocked me but mostly – I enjoyed the honesty, it was more than I could have asked for as a first-time author. 

5. What are your thoughts on the outrage machine of social media? 

I’m neither here nor there about it really. I think social media is a powerful tool that can influence social issues, politics and so much more and I think that is fantastic. Where I feel we can go wrong when using the tool is, ironically, when we try to oppress and bully one another because of the anonymity that it provides, then it becomes incredibly murky territory. But I guess with power of any kind, comes so much responsibility, and all I can say is that I think it is extremely important for us all to remember our responsibilities. 

7. I mean, you’re really saying out loud things that many people think? Do you find responses hypocritical? 

Like I said, it’s not really my place to make that decision as an author. I think when you pen your options you open yourself up to love, hate and all kinds of feelings and reactions beyond and between that. So mine was to tell my truth with the intention of creating dialogue that can really fix some of our issues as South Africans and still strongly believe that. I don’t think sweeping things under the carpet solves anything; I believe in conversation and the strength that comes from it. I believe once people have had the opportunity to read the whole book, they will have a holistic understanding of me (whether they agree or not). But also, even if they don’t read the book, they will continue to probe some of the subject matters I cover and why we’re so afraid to talk about them, and then the beauty happens when we start talking solutions, when we start improving the things that are wrong about our society and when we start building a strong nation (because clearly the ‘rainbow’ part of us is obviously not the reality we’re faced with at the moment). And frankly, I’d rather have a strong, united nation than a rainbow one. 

8. Your chapter on sex is very candid. How did you decide on the contents of that chapter because as you say in the book, there is so much that can be said about sex? Do we need more frank conversation like this? 

That was the first chapter I wrote in June in 2014 and at the risk of sounding incredibly trite, but I just flowed with that chapter. I think we need to do more of that, talking about sex that is, especially us black women – we need to talk about sex in the context of pleasure, abuse, HIV and every other aspect of it. Black women in South Africa are mostly affected by the way in which society sees sex, so again, the more we talk, the more enlightened we will become and the more we will crush dangerous stereotypes about sex and femininity. 

9. Some people are of the view that while the book may be about generalisations, sometimes generalisations become entrenched stereotypes and by repeating these you are reinforcing stereotypes instead of changing them. What is your response to this belief? 

The African-American author and gay activist, James Baldwin once said “Not everything that is faced can be changed but nothing can be changed that is not faced” – and that was the thinking behind The Way I See It. The debate on black business that was sparked by the Chapter 9 extract has created so much conversation that can’t simply be left on social media. Two years ago I challenged myself to find and use black service providers every month and since what the twitter response has done is create a platform for me to share and implement some of my thoughts for positive change, such as the hashtag #blackbusinessexcellence. The hashtag is now taking shape in so many other ways that it will make a positive change to black business in South Africa – that is the power of communication and conversation. 

10. There’s a point in that sex chapter where you refer to friends with benefits and how often these are not people you would be seen with during the day then you say perhaps because they are of a lower LSM. Can you explain what informs the statement?Is this not offensive? 

It’s totally offensive. But that’s why there’s a sticker on the cover of the book that says “Warning! Guaranteed to offend”. It wasn’t a glib assertion, I say some offensive things because I wanted to take braai stand conversations to the boardroom so we can begin to change and improve our system in SA. But it’s important to remember that I say ‘might’ which means what I say is not fact. The experience of different LSM’s being violent is true but the general perception, and this book is about stereotypes, is that violence is associated with a lower LSM. The reality is that the book is not called ‘The Way I Live It’, it’s called The Way I See It because it’s my observations of what I’ve seen as a black South African - my words are not fact and don’t make me an authority. I’ve been asked a lot about ‘what gives me the right’ to say the things I say in the book. And the answer to that is, nothing. I just happen to be the one that Penguin Random House asked to write a book, it’s clear that many people see our country differently. Hopefully this time next year someone will pen a book that is inspired by their view. (I can see the title already, “F*ck how you see it, this is the reality!”) 

11. Similarly how do you respond to critics who say you are slut-shaming the pregnant teen in chapter 11 “Every family has one”? 

I’ll answer this by giving you some context into how I approached that chapter. I’m a lover of Instagram because I believe it’s a great place for ideas. So when I decided to write the “Every family has one...” chapter I jotted down some ideas and realised that I didn’t have enough to make it a full chapter so I went on Instagram and asked people to add to my list (you can check my feed from last year for verification). I got such awesome ideas that the chapter ended up being the biggest one in the book. For about two days people kept giving me ideas on which family members they have and what they were like. In fact at the beginning of the chapter I thank the people who gave me ideas on Insta. So to be called a slut shamer for simply accounting other people’s experiences is strange to me. But more critically, the pregnant cousin is such a typical South African ‘grant’ story and while we may know it we’re incredibly embarrassed about it, and so anyone who talks about it must be labeled a slut shamer? Teenage pregnancy is problematic on so many levels and to reduce the rate we need to be honest about what’s happening in our communities – come to think of it this happens in the UK too, truths are truths, their ugly sometimes, but their not untrue. 

12. Someone said to me, ‘Lerato demands to be loud in her views but won’t let gay men be loud. Double standards. How do you respond to that? 

I think when you want to burn someone at the stake, like some people want to do me, you nit pick. I wrote that in total jest…who am I to tell gay people how loud they should be? Anyone who’s heard me laugh knows how embarrassingly loud I am, so really in the grander scheme of things, who I am to be critical? I may not be on top of the mountain about it, but I am a gay-activist in my own right, I think some people will see the humour. 

13. Another person said, if Lerato was a maid would she like to be called ‘maid’, would she not want to be treated with more dignity? You say the word should not be seen as derogatory as it is what someone does and not who they are, but that you are too “chicken shit” to use it yourself? Isn’t that contradictory? 

One of the things I say throughout the book, from the preface to the last page is that I, like a lot of South Africans, am a total contradiction. My best friend of over two decades (yes, I’m an old bird) once asked me how I would describe myself and I said to her, ‘I’m consistent about being inconsistent’. My mom taught me a hard lesson when I was an indignant teenager who believed that people should always do what they said, she looked at me and said, in her warrior woman voice: “Ngane, I have the right to change my mind”. I was 16 but I never forgot those words. We must not only allow ourselves to evolve but also that none of are only one thing at any given moment. Some days I’m a soul sister and other days I’m a sneakerhead. I live in the grey area. That is something I’m incredibly comfortable in; and also very proud of. South Africa could benefit from changing its mind about a couple of things we’ve ‘decided’ we are...#JustSaying. 

14. You’ve said you are calling out black laziness to make black people aware of how they need to improve – is this part of what you’re doing here? Actually promoting black self love? 

Yes! And I’m thrilled that most people are starting to get the intention of my words. I am calling myself out for sometimes arriving late to meetings and for any other unprofessional behaviour that’s deemed to be acceptable because I am black i.e. ‘African time’ etc. Black people are on the back foot in South Africa economically – and as they say, whoever has financial influence holds the power – and the sooner we (as black South Africans) take our power back by being absolutely excellent, not perfect, excellent then we will come closer and closer to gaining financial power, or at least economical equality. And no, I am not saying excellence is going to completely solve all of our problems, but think about it – we’re in the majority in South Africa, we have the power of numbers behind us, if we used each other’s businesses because now and we’re not saying ‘Eish, abantu abamnyama mara’ behind closed doors, we’re already making strides in the right direction. 

15. The race chapter is like a conversation with white people, and you talk about how they do not go into black townships yet foreigners would. What do you think informs this mindset and bad attitude against townships? 

I think it’s the positioning of townships based on our history – essentially townships were built as cages for black people – white people think the townships are dangerous and so I guess naturally, who would want to put themselves in danger right? Which begs the question how do white people think black people do it every day? This kind of stereotyping is exactly why we find ourselves in the state we’re in as a country. But here’s the thing, I’m saying this from my vantage point, which is that of a black woman in South Africa. There are many great white columnists in this country, I would love to hear how some of them would reply to your question because that’s exactly the kind of answer I’m also curious about. 

16. Similarly on language, why do you think South Africans, specifically white South Africans, tend to be more willing to learn and perfect foreign languages over the African languages around us? This goes for learning and pronouncing names too? 

As a human being nje in general, if I lived in a place that had an indigenous language, I would make it my business to learn the language of the community I’m a part of. To me this seems logical but it’s not happening here and I’m not sure why. Like with your previous question, this is another place where I would love to hear what some of my white writer colleagues would say. As journalists we must stand on the side of the truth, no matter how uncomfortable, and I would be curious to hear how a white South African would answer this. The Way I See It is about starting a conversation and answering some of the things that plague as people (whether we’re Coloured or Indian). Maybe City Press could challenge one of their columnists to answer this question? Just a thought ... 

17. You talk about language and finding importance in African languages and not judging people and their intelligence based on accent but then in your chapter on reality checks for everybody, you say Durban Indians should come with subtitles? Is this not contradictory or do you think this is a different conversation altogether? 

I think because my sense of humour is mixed with so much hard truth, some people just miss the satire. When I started working at Sunday Times Lifestyle, there was a column called “En passant” which was caricatures of the different characters we encounter daily. I was even satirised by another writer, rather fantastically I must add, for being ‘The Over-accessoriser’ (which I totally am, by the way). That’s my history as a writer. So when I was writing about stereotypes I didn’t think it would be received the way it was because this column I’m referring to was run in 2006 and South Africans loved it. With the fury around my book, I was sent a WhatsApp message by a well known songstress who’s music I not only love but also own, that my next book ‘may be better’, but in fact, I think someone else’s book may be more accepted because now we’ll be awake to the realisation that we can tackle incredibly sensitive subjects without being devoid of humour. And as tense as things are in SA right now, we could use a little bit of humour. In Zulu there’s a saying; even when there’s been a death there’s still laughter. Humour is a huge part of my book. 

18. The situationship chapter speaks to how we’ve evolved into the “Netflix and Chill” generation with “situationships” instead of relationships, how do you think we got here? What has changed? 

Technology! Back in the day you would have to ask a guy’s friends but now all you have to do is just stalk his Facebook page! Dating in the time of social media is tricky. The world is changing whether we like it our not. There are still relationships, but situationships too, and more and more women are no longer ‘victims’ of this (like I was), which is excellent! Power, in relationships of any kind, should be shared. 

19. The final chapter on getting over the rainbow is sobering and you say you want it to be what people remember if they forget everything else. What are you hoping people will take away from reading “The Way I See It”? 

The economical emancipation of black South Africans is the only route to the South Africa we aspire to - which is a safe and just society where every citizen gets to enjoy the resources the country has to offer. There is no other way