In 2018, I was among three candidates for the position of presidential speechwriter. With hindsight, I should not have applied. I was not, and will never be, fit for such a burden, especially for an administration leading the country to another brink of collapse.
President Cyril Ramaphosa is expected to deliver the state of the nation address (Sona) on February 9. It might as well be called the state of Eskom address. What a taxing task his speechwriters face.
Nothing poetic is expected from this Sona. We have long passed the “Thuma Mina” and “Khawuleza” stages. Now is the “Ziph’Nkomo” phase, during which the president is supposed to show what he has done: tangible deeds.
Perhaps this sheds some light on why the poet Seitlhamo Motsapi, a speechwriter for president Thabo Mbeki, resigned two months into his tenure. Motsapi is quoted as saying he felt the job compromised his principles. Poets, musicians and speechwriters are expected to, in Lesego Rampolokeng’s words, “lick the stage clean for the politicians”.
Perhaps this Sona’s only poetry will come from the performance of the imbongi(praise singer), which has been part of parliament’s opening ceremony since Nelson Mandela’s administration.
In 2019, parliament was forced by a national uproar to reverse its decision to shelve imbongi as part of a “cost-cutting strategy”. If anything, this suggests ordinary citizens refuse to compromise, for any cause, on the last of our distinct national soul, an expression that embodies a communal memory, ways of living, outlook and critical discourse.
The tendency to sideline or slander African culture and traditions was rife within the corridors of power at the extant dispensation’s very dawn. Apartheid leaders who were part of the government of collusion were loud in their disapproval of a cultural shift in parliamentary proceedings. The former mayor of Grahamstown, then the Western Cape MEC of education and training, Martha Olckers, was quoted in The Argus of May 26 1994 as saying she found “praise singers” at Mandela’s inauguration and the opening of the new parliament “undignified” and a “terrible cultural shock”. Professor Russell Kaschula called Olckers’ remarks an exhibition of “ignorance and lack of cross-cultural insight”.
The duty of a poet is often perceived to be to language, not necessarily to his or her people. In the South African context, it is both and more. Reflecting on isiXhosa poetry, Mxolisi Nyezwa gives the impression that traditional African poetry is characterised by “uncritical content that extols special features of culture”. This is a misrepresentation of imbongo (poetry) in its undiluted form.
Perhaps this Sona’s only poetry will come from the performance of the imbongi(praise singer), which has been part of parliament’s opening ceremony since Nelson Mandela’s administration.
To say an imbongi is an oral historian or a repository for cultural memory is not to say imbongo is a neutral reservoir of historical fact. At best, it is critical, robust, invigorating and sometimes uncomfortable, yet a necessary living archive. Modern imbongi who perform during Sona are, however, largely uncritical, only focusing on the adulation aspect of the craft. While European commentators called imbongo a cultural shock, some black interpreters remarked on censorship of radical voices. Justifying linguistic exclusions in literature, claims were made that publishing realities in Africa demanded English contributions or translations into the language, as if any single language is capable of expressing all forms and degrees of human comprehension.
I argue that traditionally, imbongo was highly critical and the somewhat uncritical version experienced during Sona is bureaucratically manipulated. In his 1938 essay, “The Conception and Development of Poetry in Zulu”, published in Bantu Studies, BW Vilakazi says an imbongi “surveys” the king, exploring three aspects of his life — his ancestors, his heroic deeds and his weaknesses. Vilakazi’s choice of words, especially “survey”, is imperative in alluding to the critical analysis applied in the compositional process, coupled with independence that was without fear or favour, something that is losing position in today’s public discourse.
AC Jordan and Archie Mafeje emphatically clarify that imbongi were not limited to praise or adulation, supporting the argument that imbongo explores authority’s weaknesses. This insinuates that the version we now see at the opening of parliament is a bureaucratic reconstruction. Regarding an imbongi’s performance approach, Vilakazi says such a poet is never requested to be a communal mouthpiece, but to be driven by two impetuses — deliverables or efficacy of authority, and national pride. This combination stirs the person to express their feelings rather than a commissioned and remunerated performance that comes with obligations.
AC Jordan and Archie Mafeje emphatically clarify that imbongi were not limited to praise or adulation, supporting the argument that imbongo explores authority’s weaknesses. This insinuates that the version we now see at the opening of parliament is a bureaucratic reconstruction
By expressing imbongo voluntarily, an imbongi is not obliged to align to the authority, instead paying homage to the authority while maintaining his loyalty to and putting first the interests of the people. The peculiar power relations of an imbongi are thus more or less that of a modern-day office of the public protector at best, taking care of society by holding accountable those in positions of power, an unpopular and thankless role in our so-called rainbow nation.
Imbongi who have opened parliament since 1994 remain bureaucratically constrained to praising the president in line with his ancestors and heroic deeds. Criticism is silenced. Thus we do not expect the February 9 imbongi to cite Phala Phala, Eskom or failure to implement land restitution. Some MPs during the 2019 Sona looked impatient with Khoi-San poet Bradley van Sitters’ performance. It is doubtful our lawmakers bother to listen to the actual words in these performances.
One awaits the day Sona imbongi explore all aspects of imbongo, including citing or criticising shortfalls of the administration. Or the day when parliament allows national poet laureate Mongane Wally Serote to feed the nation with a poetic Sona. Or the day radical poets will, similar to the tradition in the royal kraal, be granted an opportunity to reflect on their country without fear or favour. Until then, one is bound to agree that poetry which enjoys public platforms is largely a “state asset”, a practice which can suffocate creative expression.
*Wa Maahlamela is a senior lecturer in creative writing at North-West University. He writes in his personal cap
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