Steve Biko: a tribute - University of South Africa

Steve Biko: a tribute
Written by Andile M-Afrika, author of The eyes that lit our lives: a tribute to Steve Biko and
Board Member of Tshiya Africa Centre
For many years the silence and the tranquillity of the cemetery of Ginsberg Township, where
the body and the spirit of Steve Bantu Biko rests, had been under torment from the crack of
gun fire that came from a shooting range that was situated on the other side of the cemetery.
Every time we had to come to that cemetery, to bury our loved ones or to visit their graves or
to do a site service for the notables such as Steve Biko, the guns would bang, sending their
sounds to the steep hill on the left hand side of the cemetery, rebounding to the silence of
the home of the dead. As mourners, we would turn our heads around, feeling jellied on our
knees, thinking that the armed police, those who stood on the steeped high ground on the
right of the cemetery, with dark glasses and flashing cameras and intruding binoculars, had
lost their cool.
That shooting range was removed from the cemetery. And, there are no longer armed police
accompanying our funerals whenever we bury at the Steve Biko Garden of Remembrance.
Yet there are few things that concern me about that cemetery. Being a monument that was
unveiled by the former President Nelson Mandela, it still does not enjoy the upkeep that one
sees in other monuments. Secondly, the residents of King William’s Town have nowhere
else to bury their loved ones, and so this historical monument is being filled up with graves at
almost every space of the site. Right now, one has to walk on graves to reach the site of
Steve Biko.
On the outside, the small park that has four concrete benches around four concrete tables
with a small patch of dried grass and a strip of dying flowers; there are pieces of all sorts of
things that I always see whenever I come there; pieces of paper here and there, a torn
packet of some snack, a used condom, a dirty disposable nappy, an empty packet of KFC
with a dried chicken rib-cage and a grinded thigh-bone; all of these scattered around while
refuse bins are standing empty.
I have friends in that cemetery; friends who passed away silently leaving me with eyes of
their fatherless children. There are bodies of notable people who lie there with untold stories;
with unpublished books that are buried in their bosoms, books that I long to read; with songs
that were composed but were never sung, songs that I wish to hear; with paintings in their
hearts that should have been left behind for me to appreciate. Kaya Biko is buried in that
cemetery. Steve Biko is buried in that cemetery. My mother is buried in that cemetery.

This year’s 35 th anniversary of the death of Steve Biko will highlight one of the important
virtues of the man, the fact that he was a man of literature. Yes, Steve Biko wrote very
brilliant pieces for the Saso Newsletter, writings that spoke to the core of his people, writings
that were lifted away from the contrived occupations of studentship. There could have never
been a better tribute than to publish those writings into a book, a book that retained the
caption of his column, I Write What I Like.
Ben Okri is a wise choice for a speaker at the forthcoming Biko Lecture at the University of
Cape Town. A renowned poet, a novelist and a short story writer who hails from the literary
ever-green region of West Africa. Even today many, particularly in South Africa, read and reread
the poignant messages of the works of West African novelists, amongst others, Chinua
Achebe in his Things Fall Apart and Ayi Kwei Armah in his The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet
Born, written and published in the 1950s and 1960s.
Also important during this 35 th anniversary will be the much awaited speech of the legendary
Prof Ben Khoapa who met in Steve Biko, a mind partner and, in his own words “indoda
enesibindi” – a brave man- a man who never feared to experiment. Between Prof Khoapa
and Steve Biko, South Africa boasts of richness in many fronts. At their time, the two men
changed the course and direction of community development and political engagement.
Before them, it was Christian missionaries who worked among black people in such areas as
education, health, agriculture and other related projects of social upliftment. But when the
two giants met, Khoapa being senior than Biko by nine years, we saw black students walking
out of their campuses and spending their vacations by working – hand and mind - for the
communities, we saw black professionals leaving their little comfort zones to volunteer their
skills to the people from whose ranks they came. As products of committed teachers
themselves, Biko and Khoapa were resolved at their commitments. Steve Biko’s words tell it
all; “we have in us the will to live through these trying times”.
Professor Khoapa will be speaking at the University of South Africa (Unisa) in Pretoria. At
the same event Unisa Foundation in collaboration with Unisa Press will be announcing the
re-publication of the Black Review that was started by Biko and Khoapa. Black Review was
a series of annual reports that were launched in 1972 to become an alternative form of
media that provided important material for the attention of the broad black political
leadership, to assess the state of affairs in the country with special regard to the furtherance
of the ideals of freedom. Black Review was in the capable hands of committed activist
Editors such as Mafika Gwala, Thoko Mpumlwana, Asha Moodley and a team of equally
committed activist researchers like Welile Nhlapo, Tebogo Mafole and the late Ben Langa.

Through Black Review, we knew who was banned, detained or killed; incidents that were
hidden away from the eyes of the people since they happened in the middle of a dark night
and in some obscure dark cell. Through Black Review, we knew the activities of each and
every black organisation in our communities, including those organisations that believed in
working within the white system of rule. In all those years, 1972 to 1976, the Black Review
informed the country on the number of those who had passed matric, some diploma or some
university degree. We knew how much was paid to black civil servants such as nurses or
teachers in every year under review.
The Black Review transported its readers into the debates of the white parliament,
particularly, whenever there was an issue about black people. From the pages of Black
Review, we saw and learnt, in a contextualised manner, all the bioscopes in the tribal politics
of the Bantustans.
For all the literary energy that came forth in the 1970s, in the form of novels, poetry, drama,
music and the arts; Steve Biko and Black Consciousness were a direct impact on the quality
of the content and the form of those works. The vision that was shared by the political
activists of the time, across the political space, had been spurred by the sense of art and
literariness in the man himself and in the idea of Black Consciousness.
Granted, we never had a right to vote during the 1970s of Steve Biko and Prof Ben Khoapa,
but our right to think and our right to speak out, found compliment in the body politic of the
time. I cannot agree more with the columnist of Pretoria News and The Star, Mr Abbey
Makoe, when he made a reference to Ancient Athens, writing; “ Had it not been seen for the
strong foundations in democracy and the belief in the sacrosanct freedom of thought and
expression, Athens would have recommended that non-participants in public discourse be
removed from society.”
Wherever we are on Steve Biko Day, Wednesday the 12 th , let us pause and allow our minds
to listen to the teachings of Steve Biko, teachings that are contained in his words and in his
actions. Yes, there is so much around us that makes our stomachs to go sick. Yes, the
speed with which South Africa glides to the dogs and the dizziness it brings to our minds is,
regrettably, painful. But, we should remember, as long as you can read this, you are not a
child any longer. If you choose not to participate in the public discourse, you should know
that you are actively participating in your own demeaning. It is history’s judgement that we
should fear. Enjoy your Biko Day.