LEBOGANG MOKOENA | 'I don't want to raise a snob': perils in parenting

I don’t want to raise a snob. This is my daily mantra as I dish out inordinate amounts of ramblings to my three-year-old daughter. These range from how we treat elders to how to eat mala mogodu. Just last week I was squeezing poo out of chicken intestines as I prepared dinner for my family.   

My wife, who is not a snob but suffers snobbish bouts every now and then, looked at me with suspicion and admiration later that evening as my daughter licked the plate clean and announced as she does every time she finishes her meal, "ta-da". I count this as one of my proudest moments.  

Dear reader, this column isn’t about the choice of cuisine you should feed your children, nor is it about licking plates. I’d like to talk about being South African, our languages, what we eat and how we greet one another. How these things make us relate to one another in this beautiful corner of the world. Allow me to explain. 

Western cultures have a huge footprint in South Africa and while our introduction to them was not always voluntary, they are us and we are them. Think of the many places we call home, King William’s Town, Port Elizabeth, Fort Beaufort, East London, Port Alfred. British royalty loved the Eastern Cape — but that’s a story for another day.

How we dress, from your pants to your pocket square and how we wed in suits and white dresses. I can list and name many more, but I list these to show how our lives revolve around cultures and influences that are not our own, but those that have been impressed upon us from other parts of the world.  

That’s why it is important we celebrate our emancipation, whether it’s by renaming historical sites, setting up cultural villages or communicating using our variety of languages.  

I am always troubled when the youth look down on our languages in favour of others. They even use a twang to show their mastery of foreign tongues. Yes, communicating in English is important, for many reasons, but there is beauty in being able to articulate oneself in an indigenous language.  

Some weeks ago at a braai a toddler came to me and asked what “kusuka maphepa Kusala amacardbokisi” means? I know what it means, but there is no English equivalent to capture it fully, so I mumbled something about recycling and left it at that. 

I also recall a preacher labouring recently trying to explain what “se sa feleng sa tlhola” (all good things must come to an end). You will need a paragraph to capture what some of our languages explain so effortlessly. 

So with these in mind I have declared a semi-war against certain things and influences, especially languages, and English is on top of that list. I don’t want to raise another Duduzile Zuma who will blame Cocomelon for her inability to speak a language other than English. 

It’s high time we buck the English trend and I have identified a few areas of focus. First on the list is Cocomelon. It’s about time we have a South African version, don’t you think? Did you know that by 2018 Cocomelon was the third largest channel on YouTube? It is estimated that Cocomelon gets streamed more than 2-billion times monthly. Imagine if our children can love and see something that represents who and where they are as much as they love JJ and his one hair.  

If Patrice Motsepe is reading this, can I please have a couple of million to launch Cocomelon SA? It will be affectionately known as Ukhokhokhabe. We will give JJ a South African name such as Sanele and make sure he sings about the Toyota Quantum. 

Second, I will get a dog, a big dog. Growing up in the township teaches you that when man’s best friend sees you as a threat, there is only one language to turn to. No amount of screaming, praying, running, bargaining and dying can replicate the effects a well-placed "vo***ek".  

Much like some countries have mandatory military service for their citizens, it must be mandatory for every South African to spend a couple of months in a township. Townships are a melting pot of languages and being multilingual is not an option. Before the age of five, children in townships already spoke three to four languages; how some white people go their whole lives not knowing how to pronounce Kgomotso is criminal. 

So dear reader, much like how chicken intestines are off-putting but taste great, a good dose of South African culture is what the world needs to cure snobs.