OPINION | Our narrative must reflect SA's history, diverse cultures

In SA, the remnants of apartheid linger in our national consciousness, entwined with the symbols and stories that define us.

The pain of a fractured heritage persists, manifesting in monuments that celebrate oppression and in narratives that silence the rich history of our diverse cultures. Our heritage is not merely a collection of artefacts and memories; it is the foundation upon which we build our identity and future.

The EFF, in our discussion documents for the third National People’s Assembly, confront the uncomfortable reality that apartheid symbols still permeate our heritage.

The haunting strains of Die Stem linger in our national anthem, while statues of apartheid figures dominate our public spaces. Streets and towns bear the names of those who upheld a system of racial oppression, reinforcing a narrative that glorifies the oppressor while marginalising the oppressed.

The absence of indigenous histories, particularly those of the San and Khoi people, from our education system speaks volumes about the biases that continue to shape our understanding of our past.

Language, too, serves as a barrier to inclusivity and understanding. English and Afrikaans remain the dominant medium of instruction, sidelining the rich linguistic heritage of our diverse population.

Libraries, once sanctuaries of knowledge, are not equitably distributed, leaving previously marginalised areas with little access to resources that reflect their history and culture. Art galleries are few and far between, stifling creativity and limiting the visibility of black artists in a post-apartheid society.

It is a grave injustice that decades into our democracy, institutions like the University of the Western Cape (UWC) and the University of Limpopo still do not have theatres or thriving fine arts departments.

This is a painful reminder that black people were historically deemed unworthy of studying the arts while previously white institutions continue to flourish with world-class theatre, music, and art departments perpetuating the gross imbalance of privilege.

Thirty years after apartheid’s end, how can it be those provinces, like Limpopo, are without a single theatre? How can it be that UWC, a beacon of Struggle, still lacks a dedicated creative arts department?

These gaps reflect the systemic erasure of African creativity and culture, perpetuating the narrative that art, in its finest form, is not for us.

The colonial effects on our arts go beyond this neglect of art education but go further in the archiving space. The burning of the University of Cape Town’s (UCT) Jagger Library in April 2022 exposed the dangerous centralisation of SA’s archival heritage, primarily stored in historically white, elitist institutions like UCT.

The loss of more than 70,000 items from the African Studies collection, along with thousands of films, manuscripts, and rare books, highlights how fragile this colonial approach to knowledge is.

By concentrating critical resources in one place, with no widespread duplication or accessible distribution, priceless heritage is vulnerable to disasters, leaving gaps in our collective understanding of African history.

Our historical knowledge must be safeguarded through decentralisation, making it freely available across the country.

An example of how our heritage is lost in our education is how the history of slavery in SA is glaringly absent from our education syllabuses, giving the impression that our nation’s story began with apartheid. From 1653 to 1834, slavery was entrenched in the Cape Colony under Dutch and British rule, with enslaved people forcibly brought from Indonesia, Madagascar, Mozambique, and India.

This history is significant to the identity of SA’s coloured and Indian communities, whose ancestry is deeply rooted in the exploitation and oppression of enslaved people.

As we gather to discuss the future of our heritage, we must remember that it is not just a reflection of our past but a vital component of our present and future.