Inspired by rare strength and courage, this gripping narrative tells the story of a young woman—known variously as “Khwezi” and “the complainant”—who made a principled decision to lay a charge of rape against Jacob Zuma, a man who was a father-figure, a family friend, a comrade—and the deputy president of South Africa. She took on the fight against considerable odds, Zuma being one of the most popular and powerful political leaders of his time. Enduring prolonged public attacks, she listened to Zuma supporters chant “Burn the Bitch” outside the courtroom during her trial. Her accusers and the judge concurred that having worn a kanga that evening, the complainant had, like so many other women, “asked for it.” Crushed and conquered by the mechanics of power, she was forced to flee into exile. By using the trial of Jacob Zuma as a mirror, this account reveals the hidden yet public forms of violence against women in their homes, marriages, and churches. Caught in the crossfire of the nation’s political succession battle, this young woman refused to back down. Her story outlines the particular ways in which women can be subjugated by power, and by speaking out, she amplified the muffled screams of the countless victims of those who parade their authority in parliament, government, and religion.
Your book has not made my life any easier. This afternoon I took my daughter to her ballet class – as I do so often. But today I noticed for the first time that I was the only father in a room full of waiting mothers, proudly watching a floor full of six-year-olds prancing around in pink. All of which raised a whole bunch of questions – about my solitary maleness there, about their socialisation into femaleness, about guys and girls. (And now I even wonder why I didn’t write “girls and guys” back there.)
But your book has not only been food for thought, it has also been fuel for action.
Last night at one o’clock I heard high-pitched cries for help coming from the apartment upstairs, which is home to a sixty-something couple who are condemned to the bottle and each other. They argue at least four times a week – like a small yappy dog and a big gruff one barking at each other through a fence. I’ve heard Yappy howl before, but I’ve never heard her cry for help. So I got off my butt and went to ring their doorbell. And lo and behold, there was another neighbour, from three doors down, about to do the same. We shook hands and then went upstairs to sort things out together. All has been silent since then (but the night is young and dead dogs don’t howl).
And still I am sceptical, even cynical, about the world and its deeply entrenched ways. Little girls will prance around in pink, and belligerent bastards will beat up their wives. I am also convinced that most of the men (and women!) who should be reading your book will be unaware of its existence. And even if they do read it, they may conclude that it does not apply to them.
However, your book has reopened my eyes to the fact that “he who saves one life, saves the world entire”, that we should try to make a difference within our own sphere of influence, and that we should support the efforts of women like yourself and men like Zumra Nuru who are prepared to devote their lives to a better world – one step, one heart, at a time.
I wish you well and hope this message will prompt others to read your book, reopening their eyes and convincing them that they can make a difference.
I was in a constant state of sadness, anger, shock and despondency whilst reading this book. I don't cry easily , but tears were a regular feature. The multiple victimization of Khwezi was cruel and horrendous. More sad is that ten years down the line, the pcychological and physical warfare on women has gotten worse. Women continue to be molested , mutilated , murdered as if it is a national sport.
Motsei reflected on the rape case of the then deputy president of South Africa and Khwezi, real name Fezekile Kuzwayo , two years after it all happened, and a year after the accused was acquitted. She uses the ordeal to mirror the deep, and deep routed matter of women abuse, and reiterates the fact that rape is a crime of power and violence.
The author lays it bare, puts it all into perspective, opens up the wound to show its, blood, rot , stench and decay.
In an easy to read type of thesis , Motsei discusses , dissects and gives corroborating evidence that :
Rape and femicide was the norm in biblical times, during colonialism, during slavery , during apartheid and in post apartheid SA.
" ... I was however totally unprepared to find so many atrocious accounts of sexual molestation and femicide in the Bible.."
She discusses, at length the contributing factors of war, liberation movements, tradition , culture, policing and the justice system. The issue of patriarchal women cuts like a knife.
"Through an organized tyranny of religion, tradition, political, legal and economic systems, women's minds have been constrained and their bodies violated without consent... "
Motsei makes recommendations, proposes solutions which I feel can only be achievable if all concerned, especially the perpertrators are committed, empathetic and operate at high levels of consciousness and spirituality.
An informative narration that drew from giants like Lauretta Ngcobo, Credo Mutwa, Eskia Mphahlele, Angela Davis , Thomas Sankara, Zakes Mda and many more.
Topics that break our hearts, and remain our realities.
The book Rape by Prof Gcola and The Kanga And Kangaroo Court, should be read by all South Africans, to also tackle possible blind spots, bias , and ignorance we might have about the subject of rape More importantly to introspect on our behaviour in personal spaces. What we vocalize should reflect in our actions and reactions.