JONATHAN JANSEN | The Rhoda less travelled: Kadalie never came to the party

At some point she was going to klap you. You would not know where, when or perhaps even why, but Rhoda Kadalie would give you that metaphorical slap when you least expected it. That’s how she was, that’s who she was: stubborn, argumentative and opinionated. I should also add interesting, thoughtful and fiercely independent. If you wanted to be Rhoda’s friend, you would have to learn to live with that mix of qualities, the combination of which made this remarkable South African persona.

It did not take anyone long to remind you of her illustrious grandfather, the trade unionist Clements Kadalie. Reading most of the postings on social media since her death last Saturday, you could swear she had no biological parents. I came to know Rhoda through my sister and later through her teaching and activism at UWC on gender issues. She was admired by many of her students, not least because she refused to toe any party line and because she always had a point of view on both politics and personalities.

Rhoda could give you the lowdown on pretentious people, the story behind the story; gossip, in other words. Do you know who the archbishop’s goose is? I pretended not to hear lest I be struck by lightning. She told you anyway about the holy man’s girlfriend.

I remember the day I lost my patience with Rhoda. Needing advice, I called her and the phone rang in southern California where she had relocated to be with her daughter’s family which included a grandchild whom Rhoda absolutely adored. Then, out of the blue, Rhoda started to tell me of her admiration for Donald Trump. Is this a joke? I asked. Sometime later I saw her online photo with a MAGA cap; Make America Great Again. She’s finally lost it, I concluded. How could the most vocal and eloquent of gender rights activists support an imbecile who boasted openly about his misogyny?

In time I figured out that at the heart of Rhoda’s politics was a strong anti-establishment streak.

In time I figured out that at the heart of Rhoda’s politics was a strong anti-establishment streak. When a university vice-chancellor talked nonsense, like bringing some pseudo-theological belief system into a university environment, she called him out: a university is not about teaching students to believe (or hope) but to doubt (and do). She resigned from that university’s council shortly afterwards. Rhoda Kadalie was SA’s foremost crap detector in the public space. Her book collection of newspaper columns, In Your Face, is a searing commentary on the people and policies that still hold SA hostage.

The political establishment would especially come under Rhoda’s fire, from Thabo Mbeki’s deadly flirtation with conspiracy theories around antiretrovirals to the gleefully corrupt Jacob Zuma. She could see through the pretences of these big African men who left a bitter taste in her mouth. Rhoda was no party animal and could not settle into any political home because of the vacuity of nationalist politics. She was therefore attracted to any individual who thumbed their noses at establishment politics and that included Trump.

She backed up her vocal denouncement of political pretence with a deep commitment to human development, whether as an institution builder at UWC around issues of gender and development or as a human rights commissioner in the early years of our democracy. Year after year she built and led the Impumelelo Awards that drew attention to innovation in development throughout the country. She called and insisted I visit the Maritime College in Simon’s Town and a whole new world of educational innovation opened up for me to support.

When I needed to raise funds for the University of the Free State (UFS), she would take me for dinner with famous people and make the case for support.

When I needed to raise funds for the University of the Free State (UFS), she would take me for dinner with famous people and make the case for support. When I announced that the four white students at the UFS would be allowed to return to campus for their re-education and for a process of reconciliation and recompense, it was Rhoda who the next day took to the media with the message that hyperventilating journalists had missed the entire point of the inaugural address: a teaching moment in reconstruction and repair.

Rhoda’s passing reminds one of a generation of principled activists whose political work outside the state meant that they lost out on party recognition, flush pensions and all the trappings of self-aggrandisement such as blue-light motorcades and expensive tastes in cars. That generation spoke public truth regardless of the consequences. They were committed to a set of democratic ideals that could not be traded in the name of political careerism. Their strength lay in their independence, unbought by the political morsels that keep so many loyal dogs in tow.

There will be no national orders to honour Rhoda Kadalie. I suspect she would refuse on grounds that the government dishing out these annual awards is itself not honourable. That much would be true.

Rest in peace, stalwart. Your legacy is your reward.