W O M E N

S o u t h A f r i c a n s o f I n d i a n O r i g i n

Devi Moodley RajabPortraits by Ranjith Kally

Edited by Kalim Rajab

The daughters of passenger Indians and indentured labourers embrace their new homeland as one would any religious conversion… never looking back, only ahead. When they do trace their roots it is only to examine their nature and not to offer their allegiance. In this respect they are the true patriots of their country of birth and would proudly bear the stamp.

“Conceived in India, made in South Africa”

Devi Moodley Rajab is a psychologist and award-

winning journalist for the Natal Mercury in Durban, South Africa, and writes a regular column for Confluence, a London-based newspaper on

South Asian perspectives. She was educated in South Africa and

in the USA as a Fulbright Scholar and holds a master’s degree in

educational psychology and a PhD in social psychology. She is former Dean of Student Development

at the University of Natal. Devi was a recipient of the Vodacom Journalist of the Year Award on four occasions between 2003 and 2008 and the Turquoise Harmony Institute Media Award for Outstanding Journalism in 2010. She is the author of Devi’s Diary and No Subject is Taboo.

Ranjith Kally is one of South Africa’s most prolific photo journalists. His award-winning photographic career has spanned more than four decades through which he has chronicled important social and political events. He was the principal photographer for the iconic Drum magazine and his work has been exhibited at the Guggenheim Museum in New York and at the Nobel Peace Center Commemoration of South African Nobel Peace Laureates. He is an associate of the Royal Photographic Society and is the author of The Struggle – 60 Years in Focus.

INTRODUCTION

Why a book on South African Indian women?

“To awaken people, it is the woman who must be awakened. Once she is on the move, the family moves, the village moves, the nation moves.”

Jawaharlal Nehru

Given the impact of over 150 years of settlement in South Africa, how have Indians fared generally and, more specifically, how have Indian women contributed to

the land of their adoption? Who are they and how have they adapted to the various multicultural contexts of life in Africa?

For large periods of our history in this country, Indian women were largely invisible. Perhaps it is true to say that among their counterparts of white and coloured women, Indian women were the most occupationally stagnant group under apartheid rule. Though higher education records paint a different picture, their qualifications didn’t always translate into job opportunities or positions of high status. And although they fought alongside their men in the Satyagraha struggles, the taboos of culture, religion and other societal norms kept them locked in the restrictive duties of domesticity.

Post-apartheid freedom has, however, allowed for a renaissance among women achievers in the Indian community, and our book is an attempt to tell their stories and chart some areas of the development of such women, from indenture to contemporary times. It is by no means a demographic representation of their achievements, but rather a qualitative profile of contemporary women of Indian origin. We have tried to capture a portrait of who they are and what they have achieved as individuals, mothers and community leaders in the realm of civic, public and private life. This is an attempt to create a profile of a community that has contributed significantly to the country of its adoption.

In a small way, we provide an alternative view to what Ralph Ellison refers to as “historical amnesia prevalent among a people wishing to forget their origins in their desperate need to be assimilated into the country of their adoption”. This condition often results in people either filing away or forgetting aspects of their past, and reconstructing new identities without a clue of their indigenous heritage. In line with this thinking, some may dismiss the subject of our book as an ethnic glorification of women. On the contrary, in this case, ethnicity may be considered a bearer of culture and an expression of historically evolved memories through which individuals give meaning to their worlds.

As Edward Said reflects in his book representing the colonised, “Cultures may be represented as zones of control or of abandonment, of recollection and of forgetting, of force or of dependence, of exclusiveness or of sharing, all taking place in the global history that is our element”.

Exile, immigration and the crossing of boundaries are experiences that can therefore provide us with new narrative forms or, in the words of John Burger, with other “ways of telling”. Above all, this book is a celebration of the spirit of South African Women of Indian origin and of the joy of breaking free.

Dr Devi Moodley Rajab ~ 2011

FOREWORD

History continues to largely reflect narratives of victors. South African post-apartheid history has not escaped the risk of distortions and omissions that come from excluding

critical voices and players in our struggle for democracy.This book steps into a critical gap in our understanding of our evolution into a

society united in its diversity. Despite the centrality of gender equality in our human-rights-based national Constitution, women in South Africa continue to struggle to have their voices heard and their faces seen in public affairs. Their role in the struggle for freedom tends to be reduced to a supportive one despite their critical leadership in areas where men were afraid to go, such as challenging the pass laws. Indian women are even less visible and audible given their demographic minority and cultural invisibility.

The strength of this book lies in its focus on the personal profiles of Indian women – giving them not only space to tell their stories, but to do so as individuals who are nested in very strong family, community and cultural networks. Their personal narratives take the reader into the heart, home and hopes of women often ignored in public discourse. These narratives also take us ever so gently into a rich cultural milieu – not just the rich smells of spices or the glittering jewellery, but lives textured beyond clichés of subservience and dominance. These are also narratives of the resilience of a culture that transcended the humiliation of the system of indenture to thrive in a democracy.

The social history captured in this book will add considerably to our understanding of ourselves as a society that draws its cultural heritage from so many parts of the world. India’s rise as an economic giant and a mature democracy bears important lessons for us as a young democratic nation. We have the links to tap into those lessons – positive and negative – to inform our own development.

Young women across all cultural groups have much to learn from the affirmation of Indian culture and its contribution to self-confidence and pride in ourselves as a people. Too many young people are losing the cultural anchors that should support and sustain them. Many others are focusing on fragments of threatened cultures to perpetuate conservative chauvinistic practices. Cultures evolve to meet the needs of rapidly changing complex global imperatives. Creative responses are essential to the sustainability of our cultural heritage.

Narratives in this book should make us proud to be South Africans and to salute our Indian women fellow citizens who have contributed so much to what we are today – a democratic, vibrant South Africa.

Professor Mamphela Ramphele ~ 2011

CONTENTS

Chrysalis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

The passage of dusk against the backdrop of indentured labour. A hesitant migration of women who are unlettered, but carry with them an innate decorum and essential femininity from the old country.

Indentured and Political Beginnings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1Women and Children in the Cane Fields . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4The Legend of Valiamma Munusamy Mudaliar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 10

Pioneers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12

An incipient dawn, as a new generation gives utterance to their fears and aspirations in a new society. Community life is paramount, and the Gandhian spirit of upliftment and dignified resistance prevails.

Kesaveloo Goonam – The “Coolie Doctor” . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12Ansuyah Singh – Literary Beginnings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18Gadija Christopher – A Life of Loving Service . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22

Stalwarts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26

In the febrile light of day, against a harsh and unsympathetic climate, these women grew out of the pioneers’ example and became iconoclasts. The diversity was marked – some were moralists, some were pragmatists and some could be seen as ameliorators. All were nevertheless heroes of the community.

The Freedom Fighters

Fatima Meer – The Voice of the Dispossessed . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26Shanti Naidoo – The Coldness of the Cell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34Amina Asvat Cachalia – Activism in the Blood . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39Rajes Pillay – Ode to an Unknown Soldier . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47

Breaking Barriers, Building Bridges

Devi Bughwan – A High Priestess of Speech . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54Mini Kallichurum – A Pioneer in the Medical Field . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59Khorshed Ginwala – The Social Dimension of Development . . . . . . . 62

Trailblazers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67

The glorious summer evening of a new democracy is alive with opportunities for a generation of women of substance. A momentary pause is held as we reach out to honour the pioneers and stalwarts who made this possible. The wonderful humanity and value which a community is able to provide to the country, and to the world, is now realised. Valiamma watches the new collection of her granddaughters silently but proudly from the dusk.

On The Global Stage

Navi Pillay – Africa’s First UN High Commissioner for Human Rights . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67Shamila Batohi – Senior Advisor to ICC in the Hague . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72Kogila Adam-Moodley – Internationally Acclaimed Sociologist . . . 77Quarraisha Abdool Karim – The Synergy between Activism and Science . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82

Parliamentarians

Ela Ramgobin Gandhi – Upholding the Gandhian Spirit . . . . . . . . . . . 86Pregs Govender – The Principled Patriot . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 90

The Call of Other Strains . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95

The journey has not been uniform. During this period the paths of other strong women have emerged, representing alternative voices straining to be heard. Their contributions are also worthy of our attention and our respect.

Zubi Barmania – Daughter of the Muslim Elite . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95Zuleikha Mayat – The Power of Indian Delights . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99Zubi Hamed Coovadia – Dermatologist . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104

Emergent Voices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106

A confident generation is ready to build on Valiamma, Ansuyah and Fatima-ben’s traditional values, and find new avenues to contribute to in their civic, cultural, educational, medical, philanthropic and business worlds. The spirit of questioning and refusal to submit still burns bright…

Kantham Naidoo – Commercial Pilot . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106Vanashree Moodley Singh – A Dazzling Cocktail . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109

Academic Voices

Anusuya Chinsamy-Turan – Bred in the Bone . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113Anshu Padayachee – Domestic Violence Activist . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117Uma Mesthrie – A Tale of Three Generations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122Betty Govinden – The Writers’ Critic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 129Renuka Vithal – Fighting Gender Barriers in Mathematics . . . . . . 134

On the Bench

Kate Pillay – The Unflappable Judge . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139Dhaya Pillay – From Bon Bon Seller to the High Court . . . . . . . . . . . 141

In Arts and Culture

Raeesa Mahommed – On the Air . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145Yegis Naidoo – Wood and Wine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 146Suria Govender – Bringing Dance to the Rescue of Indo African Relations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147

In the Media

Mary Papaya – SANEF Head . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149Venilla Yoganathan – Assistant Editor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150Prabha Moodley – The Heart Knows No Colour . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151Devi Sankaree Govender – A Rottweiler in Tights . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 153

A Palimpsest of our Times . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155

Our mothers – the repositories of our heritage, our collective history and a reminder of how far our journey on these shores has taken us.

The Wives of Political Activists

Sarogoonam Naicker – The Metamorphosis of a Dutiful Wife . . . 156Marie Appavoo Naicker – A Long-Suffering Political Wife . . . . . . . 160

Our Legacy

Shakuntalay Poovalingaum – A Principled Principal . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 162Amarathum Moodley – A Purposeful Mother . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 164Thirunagavelli Dixon Pillay – A Community Leader . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167Annamah Vather – A Formidable Businesswoman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 169The Market Trader – The Roots of our Beginnings . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171

Conclusion: Beyond 150 Years . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 172

Endnotes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175

12

PIONEERS

An incipient dawn, as a new generation gives utterance to their fears and aspirations in a new society. Community life is paramount, and the Gandhian spirit of upliftment and dignified resistance prevails.

Throughout South African history we find remarkable women who, regardless of social constraints, taboos and conventions, have dedicated themselves to the cause of dignity and social justice. The history of women social reformers in South Africa across the religious and colour spectrum cannot be complete without the mention of these early stalwarts.

Kesaveloo Goonam (1906–2005) – The “Coolie Doctor”

Dr Goonam was one of the early stalwarts, who lived through two World Wars and fought a third symbolic one in the country of her birth. As one of the earliest women to qualify as a medical doctor, Goonam was well ahead of her time. She lived in an era when Indian women had limited education and were largely relegated to marriage and domesticity although they did appear sporadically, with the endorsement of their fathers and husbands, to participate in anti-apartheid activities.

Her gender was no deterrent to her success, though. Instead she carved her own path and marched through it on her own terms. Some may even say that she assumed an honorary male status in forging her way into their domain.

Her personality was feisty, her temperament unpredictable and her temper caused her to often swear like a trooper. But she was strong and principled and unafraid of

consequences, pitching herself against authorities when the need arose. This invariably translated into political battles against an apartheid government. There were clearly many dimensions to this multifaceted woman. There was the political activist, the professional medico, and the socialite. According to her daughter Dr Vanitha Chetty, “She was different. She wore dresses, she wore high-heeled shoes, she wore lipstick, she had short hair, she smoked, and she did not conform to traditional Indian cultural expectations.”

I have vivid memories of her at parties with a raucous voice, sari-clad with sleeveless blouses (very courageous for that age), smoking a cigarette with a long holder in one hand while holding a whisky glass in another. But far from alienating tradition-bound women who had been relegated to being housewives in the background, they saw her as their ally, because she would make a point of going to where they sat and conversing with them on occasion, of drawing them out into the public areas which were the preserves of their husbands and guests.

13

“She was different. She wore dresses, she wore high-heel shoes, she wore lipstick, she had short hair, she smoked, and she did not conform to traditional Indian cultural expectations.”

Kesaveloo Goonam with Monty Naicker, 1950s

14

At a party in Durban in the early 1950s at the home of Dr Monty Naicker, I remember her attending with Alan Paton and being a strong force. Someone snapped the two of them together, with me, as a shy girl on the verge of adolescence, watching from the side.

Goonam was a social being and joined a group of her colleagues from Edinburgh to form the Bellair Club where they could party in peace, partly to cushion themselves from the indignity of being constantly refused admission to hotels and restaurants and other public places. They purchased a rambling cottage on three acres of land where, in between being sent to prison, directing political campaigns and practising medicine on a social welfare basis, she relaxed – dancing and playing bridge with the likes of Dr Monty Naicker, Dr BT Chetty and other stalwarts of the movement.

When she returned from the UK in 1936, having qualified as a medical doctor, she was received with much jubilation by the community. She was feted and feasted at several gatherings held in her honour and exhorted by the community to uphold the traditions of Indian women, most of which she spurned. But as far as true liberation went she addressed women and said humbly that they should not idolise her as she had merely had an opportunity which they had not, implying that they too could have reached great heights had they had chances in life. She was a very popular doctor and men felt comfortable about sending their wives to a woman medical practitioner. In her autobiography, she tells a story of a visit she once received from a certain Mr Kumar who complained of problems with his wife’s waterworks. When she arrived at his home she discovered that his wife was in a hysterical condition that inhibited the flow of her urine. A hard thump on her abdomen soon released the stoppage which was viewed as a miraculous cure. The wife, however, believed that she was bewitched and that Dr Goonam had the powers to chase off evil spirits. She soon became famous for her skills as an exorcist with this particular family, who lavished her with marigold flowers and prized home-grown vegetables!

She soon had a thriving medical practice and her reputation for helping young women in distress became well established as she became known as the pro-abortion

15

doctor. She advocated strongly for birth control and the legalisation of abortion to address the problems of overpopulation.

She was an astute diagnostician. On a personal note, she saved my husband who had contracted diphtheria as a little boy. While the other medical experts were dithering with a diagnosis, she came in and declared: “I don’t care what you may think but I am treating this child for diphtheria.” Had she not acted timeously there may have been serious repercussions.

She made inroads into other communities despite racial reservations at the time. Ironically, she was well received among the lower income group of the white community. Anecdotally, she once visited a white family and heard the little child say: “Oh Mummy, ‘the coolie doctor’ has arrived.” This became the title of her autobiography, which is the first struggle autobiography of an Indian woman ever to be published. Part of her attraction was that she spoke Tamil eloquently and although her community was wary of her emancipated ways they were in awe of her and her ability to address large gatherings in the vernacular.

Goonam was born in 1906 in May Street, central Durban, some 50 years after the arrival of the first batch of indentured settlers. Her mother came from Mauritius and her father from India, but she always regarded herself as being a part of Africa, although the strains of the Indian influence added to her identity as a South African of Indian origin. Her later travels to England and Scotland for professional training added yet more dimensions to this interesting character.

Goonam’s politicisation was inevitable as she was raised in the midst of resistance against repression. Starting with the threats of repatriation of indentured labourers to the gradual erosion of privileges with the withdrawal of the franchise in the early nineteenth century – issues which framed her formative life – and the increase in anti-Indian legislation, she found she had no choice but to stand up against the European governments of the day. As a teenager she lived through the indignity of her family home being expropriated by the Durban City Council, and her sense of the deep injustices prevalent in South African society was roused during her education and life overseas in various parts of the ‘Empire’.

In Edinburgh, where she trained as a medical doctor in the mid-1930s, she thrived on the civil freedoms which existed for all races but, with a principle which marked so many early Indian leaders, she was drawn back home out of a real sense of having to return something to the community which had provided for her to study overseas. A visit to India, however, soon became overtaken by her exposure to the resistance techniques employed by the Congress and its affiliates – not only of passivity, but also of the more muscular (some would say militaristic) activism of Subhas Chandra Bose.

Returning to Durban in 1936, Goonam joined forces with the likes of Monty Naicker, Yusuf Dadoo and J N Singh to play a leading part in the Natal Indian Congress’s activities. Foreshadowing a young Mandela and Sisulu’s iconoclasm in transforming the rigid ANC half a decade later, Goonam espoused an alternative political approach in

16

direct contrast to the more accommodating and pragmatic approach of the established NIC leaders such as A I Kajee and P R Pather. The “Young Turks” signalled a change in direction by not seeking compromise with the Smuts Administration, a change which was expressed in the passive resistance campaign of 1946 where Goonam and other leaders were imprisoned for their activities.

The government had passed the Asiatic Land Tenure and Indian Representation acts which effectively segregated Indians into designated group areas prohibiting them from free trade, free residential living, schooling and socialising. Goonam helped to rally Indians together to protest against the suffocating acts. She was one of the volunteers who courted a jail sentence, and in her defence stated:

“I plead guilty and ask the court to impose the maximum sentence permitted by law… In occupying the resistance camp I was protesting against that oppressive and pernicious law recently enacted against my people who had no part in framing it. The Act spells disaster, ruin and a state of semi-serfdom to our people who contributed greatly to the prosperity of this country. South Africa, we are reminded frequently, is a democratic country. I am here to vindicate this interpretation of democracy.”

Constant harassment from the Security Branch forced her to leave the country for England in 1955, where she lived in exile thereafter. She travelled to Australia and India, and then to Zimbabwe, from whence she returned to South Africa post Mandela’s release in 1990. But it was her time in India which was particularly interesting. She reports in her book that when she met the Indian Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, she had the following conversation:

“ ‘How many children do you have?’‘Three.’‘Is their father with you?’‘No Panditji, I haven’t a husband.’‘But I thought you said you had three children!’‘Can’t I have three or more without a husband?’‘How did they let a dynamic person like you out of their country!’ he laughed.”Dr Goonam was indeed an emancipated individual way ahead of her time.

17

In her thoughts and actions she projected a free spirit with few culturally determined inhibitions which made her into either a darling or a devil among her admirers and critics respectively. Certainly, she was a complex woman on many levels. Eager to return to a country in which an unbanned ANC, SACP and NIC were finally free to redeem their place, her return was marked by bitterness that she was heralded only as a regional, and not national, political stalwart. Proud of her Indian identity, she nevertheless chose to create her own identity by dropping her caste name, Naidoo, in favour of her first name in isolation. She was a female flagbearer who broke down social norms in a male environment, yet never actively emphasised gender politics. A community leader who bemoaned the “outmoded traditions of the [South African] Indian people... the social structure with its insurmountable barriers”, her life seemed ultimately characterised by being a woman apart.

Whatever her limitations, she left her mark in the nursing profession for having encouraged and even coerced families to allow their daughters to take up nursing as a career. Wherever she went in the world she seems to have left her mark as a serious professional or ardent political activist. She died in Durban in 1998 leaving tracks too deep to erase.

26

STALWARTS

In the febrile light of day, against a harsh and unsympathetic climate, these women grew out of the pioneers’ example and became iconoclasts.

The diversity was marked – some were moralists, some were pragmatists and some could be seen as ameliorators. All were nevertheless heroes of the community.

The Freedom Fighters✻ Fatima Meer✻ Shanti Naidoo✻ Amina Asvat Cachalia✻ Rajes Pillay

Fatima Meer (1928–2010) – The Voice of the Dispossessed

As a political leader, academic, writer, human rights and gender activist and lifelong Gandhian, Fatima Meer’s name resonates with the liberation struggle and the downtrodden. Fatima published more than 40 books on a wide range of socio-political subjects, and was acknowledged both locally and internationally with a bounty of awards in recognition of her anti-apartheid work. Ranked by our citizens as 45th of the 100 Great South Africans in 2004, she is one of our country’s most distinguished twentieth-century leaders and icons and a champion of the underclass. Her recent death is a nation’s loss.

On my numerous visits to the home of Fatima Meer I discovered a myriad of interesting facets to her personality. Each side added coherence to the larger picture of a woman

of great integrity, humility, kindness and philosophical depth. She had the capacity to embrace everyone around her yet maintained her core of beliefs as an anchor to her political might. Before she died I visited her in her minimalist-designed home in the heart of the apartheid designated Indian area in Sydenham surrounded by pictures of her youth, her family and her artworks. There was something very Gandhian about her surroundings; an uncluttered simplicity that evoked richness in its message. We ate the nunkatai, cardamom butter biscuits and warm koeksisters that I had brought her for tea, (she, pretending not to be diabetic, enjoyed the fare). We talked about community matters, writing projects and her disillusionment with the fat cats in the ANC which she took on famously in Chatsworth. Little did I know that this would be the last time we would see each other. But memories have the capacity to sustain one. I once took Helen Suzman to visit her and watched how these two doyennes engaged with each other, one a Muslim and the other a Jew, opposed in their views on Saddam Hussein, George W Bush

27

“There is no peacetime as long as there is hunger and homelessness, and people’s basic human rights are trod upon. The inequality which prevails in our society... goes against this notion of peace.”

Fatima Meer, Chatsworth, 2000

Fatima Meer

“We should not shrink from accusing our friends and praising

our enemies... since it is neither possible that man should always be in the right, nor is it probable that

they will always be mistaken.”

Polybius, Histories 1.4, c. 140BC

28

and Palestine, and how they skillfully and wisely sought common ground.Fatima and Helen may be described as two of South Africa’s greatest daughters.

Both were politicians: Suzman was a Member of Parliament for over four decades and Meer, a sociologist by training, worked at grassroots level as a human rights advocate. One spent time in prison and the other specialised in getting people out from behind bars. Helen was a Florence Nightingale to the prisoners of Robben Island, taking them books and other necessities whenever she could. It was a great moment to be in a room with such giants. Each dared to make a space for herself in a man’s world. Their lives spanned two World Wars and a revolution. Suzman was born on 7 November 1917 during the Russian Revolution. Both women’s grandfathers came from Russia and both were keen to trace their early origins and find their relatives. By virtue of her chosen identity, Meer was a victim of apartheid while Suzman was one of its greatest human rights activists. Both lost their youth to the struggle but gained a life of fullness beyond imagination. Both were selfless daughters of the struggle; full of strength, conviction and resourcefulness.

Fatima Meer was born in 1928 in Durban to a white mother, Rachel Farrel, and an Indian father, Moosa Meer. Her father was born in Surat in Gujarat and hailed from a small Sunni Bhora community. Fatima was the second of nine children and their upbringing was not ordinary, and certainly unlike that of most contemporary Muslims. Her mother, Rachel, was an orphan of Jewish and Portuguese descent, but she converted to Islam and took the name Amina. I recall as a young girl riding my bicycle down Ritson Road past the home of the Meers and seeing two dhouni clad women sitting amicably in the veranda of the little cottage watching the world go by. This was usually in the early afternoons when presumably the household chores were done. “I was born in a three parent family,” Fatima said proudly if equivocally. “My mother was an orphan by the name of Rachel and my father who was already married took a keen interest in helping Rachel and her brother Lionel as much as he could. Soon a romantic relationship developed and he took her home as his second wife. I was the first born of her five children. My father already had four children from his first wife. The amazing thing about our lives was that we never differentiated between the mothers or the children. We lived in a Kudumoo, which meant a closely knit community of relatives. It was a household that reflected a strong Gujarati Indian Muslim cultural ethos against a background of a first generation immigrant family struggling to survive in a racist society.”

Moosa presided over his large extended family in a liberal Islamic atmosphere acutely conscious of discrimination. Many of the men in Fatima’s extended family played leading roles in the Natal Indian Congress and South African Indian Congress. “My mother had adopted the faith of Islam and was totally immersed in the culture. On one occasion my mother and my ‘big mother’ [the first wife] were pregnant at the same time, and my big mother who was much older than my mother, and too frail to feed her child, who was much too robust for her […] my mother took over the child and breastfed him while my big mother took over her more passive child. They were that close which

29

sometimes makes me wonder about the concept of nuclear motherhood. When my mother died long after my father, we heard our big mother say… ‘Now I am alone’.”

From a very young age Fatima started doing odd jobs for the production of the family-owned newspaper, the Indian View. She learnt the power of the written and spoken word at an early age and, over the years, she developed a strong command of the English language that helped her career as an academic, writer and human rights and political activist. “I had a cousin by the name of Ismail who was very influential in guiding my education. He persuaded my family to send me to Wits to study for a degree in social sciences. He was a student of law with Nelson Mandela at Wits University in the 1930s and was dating Ruth First at the time. Unbeknown to everyone at the time, they exposed me to a very political world of unions, communists and political stalwarts. It was the beginning of my education and preparation for politics. Upon hearing that I was fraternising with liberal white students when I went around giving out anti-apartheid posters with members of the Non-European Unity Movement (NEUM) my parents suggested that I return home to continue my studies at the University of Natal where special classes were being offered to so-called ‘non Europeans’.” Ismail Meer soon returned to serve his articles in Durban under Ashwin Chowdrie. On several occasions he would come to escort Fatima home after her lectures in the late afternoons. As they swaggered home he would hold her hand and it was only when he kissed her one day that she knew that their relationship was leading to matrimony. She humorously recounted the highlights in her relationship when he took her to the beach in a borrowed car, bought her a milkshake and doughnut, and produced a ring with what seemed to be the smallest diamond in the world! They married in 1950.

Fatima’s political life started early when, as a socially conscious 16-year-old in 1944, she helped raise £1 000 for famine relief in Bengal. In 1946, together with thousands of Indians, she joined the passive resistance campaign while still a high school student and established the Student Passive Resistance Committee which propelled her into the public eye. She was invited to speak at some of the mass rallies and shared the platform with prominent anti-apartheid leaders such as Dr Yusuf Dadoo and Dr Monty Naicker. Although short and petite, she became a powerful public figure. She was poised, intelligent, quick-witted, intense, strong-willed and energetic. It was difficult to resist protesting against a regime that constantly harassed its people along racial lines, but one needed to be fearless to do so. Fatima’s battles were fought on many levels.

In 1949 the outbreak of race riots among blacks and Indians in Durban hampered relations between the communities and affected the solidarity among non-white peoples in their battle against apartheid. The race riots were one of the turning points in Fatima’s life, and she spent the better part of her life working tirelessly to improve race relations, promoting justice, reconciliation and non-violent action. Her activism was further sparked when she led the historical women’s march on the Union building on 9 August 1956 against the unfair pass laws for black women. As a result of her activism, she was banned in 1952, even before her husband. The notorious banning orders effectively imprisoned

30

people in their own homes by limiting their access to friends, relatives or the general public and curtailing all educational, political or social activities.

After the Sharpeville Massacre in March 1960, the South African Government declared a State of Emergency and detained large numbers of people without trial. Meer’s husband was one of the Natal leaders arrested and held at the Durban Central Police Station. Meer organised weekly vigils outside the Durban prison, and played a central role in organising some of the families of the detainees to provide food and support for the prisoners and their families. The group was arrested for demonstrating outside the prison and for organising a march to the mayor’s office but was released shortly after. Fatima was also involved in organising a week-long vigil at the Gandhi Settlement in Phoenix, which brought together blacks and Indians in prayer and fasting. The vigil was led by Sushila Gandhi, Gandhi’s daughter-in-law.

During the 1970s she was again banned as the leading anti-apartheid voice in the country and later detained without trial for trying to organise a political rally with Steve Biko. At this time – even though she faced strong opposition from her family and Indian Congress colleagues – she began to embrace the Black Consciousness ideology of the South African Student Organisation (SASO) led by Steve Biko. She was always a leader and not a follower. In 1975, for her outspoken public criticism of apartheid, Fatima was served with another five-year banning order. On 19 August 1976 her son, Rashid, was detained in the wake of the 1976 student revolt. Nine days later, Fatima was also detained along with 11 other women.

Sections of her six-month detainment without trial were done in solitary confinement. She was detained with Winnie Mandela and other members of the Black Women’s Federation at Johannesburg’s notorious Fort Prison. Shortly after her release in December 1976 she survived an assassination attempt when her house was petrol-bombed. Undeterred by this attempt on their lives the Meer family still resided in this home with low walls and minimal security. Her only son, Rashid, went into exile in the same year. She did not see him for over a decade and later he died tragically in a road accident.

Fatima’s modus operandi against oppression was well thought-out and multi-faceted. Realising the importance of institutional foundations for a political cause she established many organisations to develop her support base. In 1972 Fatima founded the Institute of Black Research (IBR) which became the leading black-run research institution, publishing house and education and welfare NGO in the country. The IBR became, for the next three decades, Fatima’s principal channel for her wide range of activities as academic, writer and community activist. She also provided a channel for

Fatima at the launch of the South African Black Women’s Federation alongside Ma Luthuli and Winnie Mandela

31

previously voiceless black research. In 1979, in contravention of her banning order, she established the Tembalishe Tutorial College at Gandhi’s Phoenix Settlement. The college was established to teach black students secretarial skills. Meer also established a crafts centre at the settlement where unemployed people were taught screen printing, sewing, embroidery and knitting. The college and crafts centre were closed in 1982 when Fatima was arrested for contravening her banning order. Her “crime” was supervising work outside the Durban boundary. With the help of the Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, Fatima arranged for a number of black students to get scholarships in India to study medicine and political sciences and, under her leadership from 1986 to 88, the IBR addressed the low pass rate among black matriculates by organising tutorial programmes in science and mathematics.

Fatima with Alan Paton, Marie Naicker and Dr and Mrs

Padayachee observe a minute’s silence outside the Durban

Central Prison

32

Fatima extended the example of the Indian community’s attempts to provide schooling for their children to reach out to impoverished black pupils. Hence in 1986 she founded Phambili High School for Africans, enrolling 3 000 students. The Hindu Tamil Institute was procured from the Indian community for this purpose but the project was not without its problems. In 1993 Meer founded the Khanyisa School Project as a bridging programme for underprivileged learners from informal settlements who required preparation for formal schooling. She also founded the Khanya Women’s Skills Training Centre in 1996, which trained 150 black women annually in pattern-cutting and sewing, adult literacy and business management. In 1992 Meer founded the Clare Estate Environment Group in response to the needs of shack dwellers and rural migrants, deemed by the government to have no rights in urban areas. She drew attention to the fact that they were without clean water, sanitation and proper housing. 1994 brought an end to apartheid but unfortunately did not diminish her need to fight for the rights of the poor. “I am critical of our achievements and I ask, ‘freedom for whom?’ And it certainly is not for the formerly disenfranchised. They still live in abject poverty with no access to basic services, adequate schooling and land. So unless we come to grips with that, we are not going to really have the freedom we are talking about.”

Despite the rigours of her political life Fatima did not give up her professional career. Some of her academic peers in sociology may have been critical of her lack of theoretical focus in the field of sociology, but they acknowledge the important advocacy role that she played in fighting causes and building communities. In 1956 Meer became the first black woman to be appointed as a lecturer at a white South African university. She remained on the staff of Natal University until 1988 and was the only banned person in the country ever granted permission to teach at any educational institution. She used this platform to prick the conscience of her white students and motivate and politicise them into action. She was widely sought after as a visiting professor at universities in South Africa, USA, UK, India, Mauritius and the Caribbean. She was also a fellow of the London School of Economics and received two honorary doctorates for her work in human rights.

Right until the end, she continued to work tirelessly for the cause of the under-privileged. Her greatness lay in her being unafraid to hone in on any injustice and

Fatima with her children

33

discrimination, regardless of who was responsible for it. After all her storied bravery as part of the ANC, she was courageous enough to make a stand against their several failed government policies and rally against them for deserting the poor. Chatsworth and the Concerned Citizens’ Group was to be her last great stand, begun in 1999. The sight of a wheelchair-bound but inspiring octogenarian fighting against the Durban municipality’s anti-poor policies, which evicted the destitute and cut off their water supply, heaped shame upon the party which had once held the moral high ground and which, in response, feebly labelled her a “counter-revolutionary”. In this regard, her conviction recalled Polybius’ feelings that one should not shrink from accusing friends or praising enemies, since no single entity has the monopoly on truth.

Her strength lay in her versatility and her passion for diverse interests. She tried her hand at painting while in jail, she built an extension to her house with bricks and mortar, she sewed dresses for her children, wrote books and plays and travelled, meeting people from all walks of life and cultures. She was capable of tackling almost any subject including the wonders of architecture and carvings on the walls of South Indian temples. “The sleeping Shiva is a sight to see,” she said to me with admiration for a culture somewhat foreign to the average non-Tamilian. She was an editor of at least 18 publications and wrote or contributed to more than 40 books on a wide variety of subjects. Among the many, Apprenticeship of a Mahatma was made into a film by Shyam Benegal, The Making of the Mahatma, for which she wrote the screenplay. She also authored Higher than Hope, the first authorised biography of Nelson Mandela, which was translated into 13 languages. A British review of this reads:

“Fatima Meer peels away layer after layer of the veil that apartheid had placed over Mandela (and brings) a sociologist’s eye, a historian’s mind, and a comrade’s heart to her task. She was denied access to the prisoner from 1972 until one day last May, after the publication of the South African edition of the book, when the authorities allowed her to visit him. In three subsequent sessions — 18 hours in all — biographer and subject pored over the text, revising, elaborating, and personalising Mandela’s story.”

It is significant that the citation for the conferment of her honorary degree from the University of Natal in 1998 stated that “Meer was among the first South Africans to have ever existed, a dutiful citizen before citizenship was enfranchised for her”. Along parallel lines, the words engraved on Helen Suzman’s tombstone were: “Justice, justice, shalt thou pursue.” The Rabbi making the sermon at the graveside stated profoundly that Helen’s life was characterised by the motto Justice with justice implying that “the means don’t always justify the ends” and that we should always look to seek justice, justly. Such a value characterised Fatima’s life too, and in that the two women were united.

62

Khorshed Ginwala (b. 1929) – The Social Dimension of Development

The modest doctor with a passion for the poor, South Africa’s first ambassador to Italy used her medical training and humanity to uplift communities.

Regal in her bearing, Khorshed Ginwala Rustomjee can still turn heads without uttering a word. Elegance and refinement epitomise this gracious lady. In her presence I

had the distinct image of a fine china doll. She is tall and very slim; a couturier’s dream. Clothes hang easily on her thin frame. Her salt and pepper hair is still thick with the semblance of youth. At 81 she is very attractive. She speaks softly but her utterances are packed with punch.

During a public service career spanning five decades, Khorshed has been able to weave the many strands of her passion – medicine and community health, social work and community development – into a tapestry of upliftment for her communities. She declares that the Parsi tradition teaches its devotees to promote “good words, good thoughts and good deeds” and that her father raised his children to imbibe these values early so that they always thought of the plight of the underdog.

A politicised medical practitioner in the 1960s to 1980s, Khorshed understood medicine in the context of society and community and the relationship between medicine and welfare was well entrenched in her mind. Her strength lay in making the right connections.

In any developing society, medical practitioners cannot afford to turn a blind eye to the social and political conditions that create poverty and poor health. Hence she describes her career as extensive and diverse. “Having originally trained and practiced in medicine my experiences as a medical practitioner in the apartheid era led me to diversify to community health, care of the elderly, child and family welfare, the role of women in South Africa, adult education, early pre-school learning and a host of other social dimensions of development.”

A retrospective of Khorshed is in many ways reflected in her younger sister Frene Ginwala. Theirs were two different and circuitous trails leading up the same mountain face. Frene is best known as the first Speaker of the National Assembly of a post-democratic Parliament who brought dignity to her office in the first decade of democracy. Prior to this, she spent more than 30 years in exile, helping establish the external mission of the ANC. Before and during her exile, she worked as a journalist in Tanzania, head of mission for the ANC in Zambia and Mozambique, and as ANC spokesperson in the United Kingdom. In Tanzania, she founded and edited the monthly ANC-journal Spearhead, and she also worked as a freelance journalist for the Guardian and Observer newspapers, as well as for the Economist and the BBC.

The sisters, although always close, chose different means of expressing themselves

63

Khorshed Ginwala

“Good thoughts, good words, good deeds’ – the ideal of the Parsi tradition.Social welfare has as its essential goal the prevention of social dysfunctionand of sustaining national prosperity.”

64

and their convictions. Superficially, one chose medicine and the other chose law and journalism. More profoundly, one chose a more placid married life internally in the country while the other had a very stormy political life in Africa, moving from one country to another as she fell in and out of favour with the various leaders of African countries. Frene remained unmarried with the singular focus of a die-hard and committed political comrade. For her, politics was an end in itself. In contrast, Khorshed was more driven by her passion for community development from a social welfare perspective, thereby making politics a conduit for the attainment of her goals.

The sisters were born into the Parsi community of Bombay – a tiny community of Persian extraction which has had a disproportionate impact in all areas of high finance, industry, philanthropy and the arts (their members include the illustrious families of Tata, Wadia and Rustomjee). At the time of her birth in 1929, Khorshed’s family already had deep interests in southern Africa through her industrialist grandfather. “He had established large scale oil processing and cotton manufacturing factories in Portuguese-controlled Lorenzo Marques, and I was sent to primary school in Durban.” However, she subsequently returned to Bombay for her principal schooling at St Joseph’s Convent, and then went on to St Xavier’s College. This was followed by a medical degree at the National University of Ireland in Dublin. Historically, during this period, Dublin had been the incubator of many South African medical students, and so it was unsurprising that it was here that she met her future husband, Sorab, who would soon return to South Africa to run his family insurance brokerage in Durban. Their wedding was the talk of Durban town, as the Ginwalas and Rustomjees were well established and wealthy families renowned for their high standing in the community as leaders of the NIC.

Early in her career as a medical practitioner, Khorshed was exposed to the poverty and hardships of Indian and black families in the municipal barracks in the city. She partnered with the first Indian woman doctor, Dr Goonam, and took over her private practice when she left the country. But Khorshed found herself unable to conduct abortions, even for women in distress. “Morally, I couldn’t justify it – one of the reasons for the practice becoming less successful than under Goonum.” She subsequently accepted a position at the segregated King Edward Hospital. “I soon discovered that racism was the root of the hardships that blacks suffered under apartheid. I found myself working through the corridors of KEH attending to children suffering from malnutrition and watching mothers of new-born babies sleeping on floors and under beds at one of the country’s busiest hospitals. I knew I had to do something about it.”

Ginwala was refused a South African passport in the 1960s. Three years later she won a scholarship to study health administration in Britain and was eventually granted a passport because her employer, the Natal Provincial Administration, sanctioned her sabbatical leave. When she returned, the NPA had established, through working with community leaders A M Rajab, P R Pather and J N Reddy, the first Indian hospital, R K Khan Hospital in Chatsworth. Here Ginwala became the Deputy Superintendent. Despite being founded and funded by the Indian community, a subtle campaign

65

maintained the status quo and appointed only whites to management positions. “I spoke out against job reservation because Indians were capable of holding senior positions,” she says.

Ginwala was eminently qualified to hold senior positions in hospital administration, having postgraduate qualifications in Hospital Administration and Health Service Management (London) and a master’s degree in community health (Natal). Both qualifications enhanced her managerial experience by extending the focus from local and provincial levels to national, government and multilateral levels. At the University of Natal she pioneered two part-time courses to assist the transformation process. These

were a three-year master’s degree for family practitioners and a diploma in health service management for public health officers.

“My special preference lay in management and legislation,” she says.

Later, as a dedicated member of the ANC, she was involved in protest politics and served as Chairperson of the Reservoir Hills branch. Organising her political contribution along medical lines, she participated in drafting the ANC National Health Plan (which focused on the post-independence structure of the health system). In 1993 she was appointed to the ANC’s Commission on Human Resource Development, which looked to manage the political transition in

the health sector by developing a structured course for senior health service managers at centres nationally. She is best described as a community activist rather than a political anarchist. She is a medical practitioner with a conscience who prefers building bridges and uses her political affiliations to do so. Her loyalty to her party comes from a deep commitment to serve rather than receive.

She is best known for her leadership of the Durban arm of the National Council for Child and Family Welfare (one of the country’s largest community-based volunteer welfare organisations, serving a community of half a million) and the Durban Blind Society. In 1982 the council changed its constitution to a non-racial one after much pressure from black child welfare societies and she was the first person of colour to be admitted to serve on this body. But the transition was not easy and she had to fight her way through to break the entrenched discrimination.

She seemed to work tirelessly in every possible avenue related to the upliftment

Dr Khorshed Ginwala with the Ambassador to Italy

66

of the poor even if it was not directly related to her field. During the apartheid era, progressive health, welfare and education structures integrated a number of activities in opposition to government. At the forefront in Durban was the Natal Teachers’ Society. Ginwala worked in close association with its membership against the uprooting of community and state-aided schools under the Group Areas Act and against separate education departments. The high standard of education of Indian state-aided schools and the quality of teaching during the 1980s can be seen as a legacy of the society’s leadership.

Later came due recognition of her achievements. In June 1995, Khorshed was appointed South Africa’s Ambassador to Italy, Albania and St Marino and later High Commissioner to Malta. During her term as Ambassador she systematically restructured the personnel composition, orientation and strategic objectives of the embassy in Rome and focused on expanding trade, cultural, industrial and other links between South Africa and Italy. Her ambassadorship culminated in 1999 when she was awarded the Grand Officialato by the Italian president, an award second only to that given to heads of state in recognition of diplomatic achievement.

In recording the joint contribution of the Ginwala sisters to South Africa, history would certainly regard them as truly committed citizens who – beyond their immediate communities – sought to build their country and serve its people, despite their peripatetic lives outside of its shores.

129

Betty Govinden (b. 1944) – The Writers’ Critic

In creating an amalgam of South African women’s writing, this literary critic has brought collective identities to the fore and has found her own place as a Christian Indian in the process.

Dr Betty Govinden is a senior research associate in the Faculty of Education at the University of KwaZulu-Natal. In her book, based on a five-year doctoral study,

Betty focuses on the literary works of several South African Indian women writers and undertakes an analysis of the politics of identity as reflected in their work. The book, Sister Outsiders (2009), highlights the writings of Fatima Meer, Phyllis Naidoo, Dr Goonam, Agnes Sam, Zuleikha Mayat, Ansuyah Singh and Jayapraga Reddy, among others. In developing a passionate scholarly interest in feminist studies and exploring the works of western and post-colonial feminist writers, Betty discovered that the work of South African Indian women was a neglected area in comparison to their counterparts in India where women writers have been outstanding and prolific.

Although the corpus of local Indian women’s writings has been dismissed as largely mundane, stilted and disparate, she attempts to contextualise their offerings within a historical and political perspective, giving weight to their contributions and adding meaning to South African literature in general. Her work is a first of its kind in documenting the writings of local Indian women and of attempting to draw parallels with other writers. For this outstanding work she was honoured with the prestigious Hiddingh Currie Award for her contribution to literary and comparative literature studies globally. Betty is also a prolific speaker on African and women’s literature on various international platforms and has been a part of the editorial team that compiled and produced Women Writing Africa (2003).

There is the sense that much soul searching and stretching characterises this talented personality whose life experiences are placed under constant self scrutiny in a drive for personal growth. Betty, as she is familiarly known to many of us, now prefers to be called by her Telugu name Devarakshanam which means “divinely precious”. She is a soft-spoken, gentle personality. Perhaps it is her Christian upbringing and her work as a lay preacher in the Anglican Church that has earned her the reputation of being “Christly kind”. In any event this quality has not interfered with her ability to be analytical and critical as a writer. She is sharp and perceptive in her analysis and seems to hit the nail on the head in assessing her subjects as she places their writings under the scrutiny of history, politics, feminism and global issues. She has the capacity to sit alongside rural women when ministering to their spiritual needs with the same ease that she has in having tea with the Queen of England and the Archbishop of Canterbury when her ecumenical work made such meetings possible.

Betty was born in 1944 in Kearsney, a prominent outpost in the tea and sugar industries among the early indentured Indians. Kearsney was near Stanger and was

130

home to a large Telugu-speaking population, who were from different faiths. It was also populated by Zulus and iPondos. Indians lived in compounds or barracks clusters around the tea factory, or in freehold homes dotted across the hills and valleys, while blacks lived a distance away in “locations”. It was quite common for Indians to speak both English and Zulu, apart from all their own vernacular languages. A landmark in the area is the Kearsney Telugu Baptist Church to which a noted pioneer, John Rangiah, was brought from India to shepherd the flock. Another landmark was the Kearsney Tea Factory. In fact, Kearsney was divided into the Old Factory and New Factory, and it was in the latter that the Hulett family had their large imposing home. Yet another landmark was the Kearsney Healing Home run by the Anglican and Methodist missions.

Betty’s grandmother, Asseerwadhum, spent her entire life in Kearsney, the place where she had first arrived when she left her ancestral home on the Indian sub-continent at the age of eight. Betty has happy memories of childhood days spent with her grandmother:

“I see myself as very much a part of this country, its history, its challenges and its problems. I do not

see myself as an outsider, looking in. Although I have been to several parts of the world and seem to feel very comfortable living anywhere, I see myself

as belonging here, to this place and time.”

Betty Govinden

131

“Of all the homes of my growing up days, my grandparents’ homestead is the one I most clearly remember, with its large and spreading tamarind tree, curry leaf and navel orange trees, and sprawling mango and banana plantations. It had a large verandah which was the communal meeting place for family and friends, religious services, social functions and entertainment. She raised her seven children, my mother, aunts and uncles, who naturally thought of South Africa as the land of their birth, with questions of home, identity and history obviously taking on different meanings for her and her children, in contrast presumably to her own mother.”

Asseerwadhum had come with her mother and father, three sisters and three brothers, from Bezwada, Andhra Pradesh, where she was born in 1896, a year before Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee. Her youngest brother Saul was born on the ship en route to South Africa. Like most migrants, Betty’s family did not know much about their grandparents’ lives in India, or of the circumstances of their coming to South Africa. The question that befuddles one is what tales of a faraway land flowing with milk and honey were they regaled with by the kanganis, who were paid to entice prospective labourers to the new land?

From the time she arrived up to her marriage, Asseerwadhum worked in the Hulett family’s tea plantations in Kearsney. Historians have pointed out that the most intensive use of women’s labour on plantations was made by tea estates in the Stanger district on the northern Natal Coast. Young women were seen to be particularly suited for this job as they were considered to have small, deft fingers.

“My mother told me that my grandmother worked for a shilling a month. When she moved to work in the nearby mill, her work included scaling and packing the tea that was brought in by ox wagon from the outlying fields. The bags were hoisted up to the second floor of the mill, where they were spread out to dry. My grandmother’s job involved turning the leaves on the shelves lined with hessian, and then packing them for transportation by train to Durban via Stanger; ships then took this cargo to India. In India the leaves were processed and blended with Ceylon tea and exported to different parts of the world. My grandmother was thus a small participant in a larger capitalist enterprise for the ‘mother country’, Great Britain.”

Betty recalls that she had a very happy childhood with supportive and loving parents and, although her parents were poor and her mother was sickly, they believed strongly in the value of education for their children. Her primary school education was at Kearsney Government Aided Primary School. Later she attended the Stanger Mission School.

For higher education, the only option available at the time was an ethnic one at the University College for Indians on what was once a naval base called Salisbury Island. I remember her as a student living in the hostel. She was a year ahead of me and the first impression that I had of her was that she was highly intelligent, studious and serious.

132

She was well spoken and seemed to choose her words carefully to avoid any faux pas. She was also well read, way above her peers, so much so that she was referred to as “the best-read girl on the island”, a concept strange to women vying for beauty stakes at that time in their lives. The politics of Salisbury Island seemed not to have affected her too much as she appeared to be goal-oriented and saw her education as a disciplined activity outside of politics. She majored in English, psychology and history, and later studied for the honours degree in English as their first student to do so. After completing the diploma in education, she returned home and was appointed to teach at the Stanger High School for Indian children. Later she taught at several other schools before joining the staff at the Springfield Training College for teachers. Thereafter, she began lecturing in the English Department at UDW, and then moved to the Faculty of Education, where she continued to be based. After raising her two daughters, she completed a master’s in English education and later a PhD in English literature at the former University of Natal, Howard College.

Despite the harsh apartheid laws Betty claims that she did not grow up feeling racially inferior. The church for her was a metaphorical cloister which offered her a secluded space in which there was a fair degree of racial mixing although it was quite clear that the Europeans were in charge. “The Europeans were in leadership positions, but were very warm and friendly. Some even learnt to adapt to the lifestyle of Indians, eating typically Indian dishes and wearing saris. It was only later that I realised that there was more than a streak of patronisation in their attitude. While my parents and grandparents, and their ilk, were indeed ‘Coolies with Bibles’, as Desai and Vahed observe of Christian Indians generally, there were those who would learn to use the Bible as a weapon against Western Christianity, racism and apartheid.”

When Betty married Herbie Govinden, a professor of chemistry on the campus where she was a student, she came under the influence of the Anglican Church. This was to shape her political awareness radically and deepen her understanding of church history and theology. Under the influence of Archbishop Tutu, Archbishop Ndungane, and Bishop Rubin Phillip, she developed a more critical understanding of the ills of apartheid. She then began to participate in the work of the Justice and Reconciliation Committee.

“I was privileged to meet great women in the Anglican Church – like Emma Mashinini, Sheena Duncan and Mary Burton – who became my friends. I also became involved in the Movement for the Ordination of Women. My political and feminist work developed in the church, and I supplemented this with my study of liberation theology, feminist theology, and feminist literature. My lay activities in the Anglican Church were enhanced by my appointment to the Anglican Consultative Council as a South African representative. This culminated in my participation in the 1988 Lambeth Conference, with Archbishop Tutu leading the delegation.”

133

Betty’s real education grew as she began to find her African roots. As an observant bystander of the political and personal struggles of apartheid higher education, she managed to discover her true self as an academic.

“While the ‘bush college’ of Salisbury Island opened me to the possibilities of advanced education, my education was actually enhanced and propelled when I left university as a student and began teaching. I was to witness many troubled decades at the university, where many struggles internally and externally that were waged. But it was a place where I developed as a serious scholar, and grew to find that I was quite at home in international academic settings. I studied African Literature in a serious vein on my own, and became deeply embedded in the work of Chinua Achebe, Ngugi wa Thiong’o and Wole Soyinka, among a host of other African writers. I proceeded to study African women writers. I attended the African Literature Association conferences in the United States and Ghana and Morocco, and this broadened my understanding and critical awareness of the African continent. My later involvement in the Circle of Concerned African Women Theologians, where much of my work on women of faith was published, enhanced this identification with the rest of Africa.

I developed an academic interest in women’s writings and indigenous literatures from different parts of the world. I also studied South African black writings, and South African black women’s autobiographical writings, especially in the protest and radical traditions. Perhaps it was this exposure that made me see things differently as far as my identity as a South African of Indian origin went. I grew to appreciate Fatima Meer’s critique that the experiences of Indians was part of the broader black experience of oppression, and that there is a need for integrated as well as separatist study of oppressions. My apartheid experiences had made me resist working on what was seen as ethnocentric research. But my studies of Indian women’s writings made me appreciate Indian history in South Africa, and the role of Indian resistance to apartheid.”

Betty has faced many challenges in the past but her current battle with cancer displays a most remarkable side to her character that simply will not give up. She proudly sports a cleanly shaven head and does not miss a single book launch or art exhibition in the city. When asked what the highlight of her life as a South African has been, she answers:

“My grandmother had lived her entire life not knowing the rights and privileges of a democratic society. I, her granddaughter, was to exercise those rights for the first time in the land of my birth half a century later, queuing up with my own grown daughters, Marylla and Delphine, to cast my vote in the first democratic elections in South Africa in 1994... If my grandmother were to write back, I wonder what she would say.”

176

Devi and Ranjith’s engaging and highly readable study, looking back at the path a community has forged over a hundred and fifty years and celebrating the diversity existing within it, is really a book for all South Africans.

In our own parallel journey of forty years, from our beginnings as an outpost of a great Indian company to our current reincarnation as a truly South African one, we can share some of the pride that the authors have tapped into. And so we are proud to have been able to add our support to this worthy project.

Johannesburg ~ 2010

177

Published by Jacana Media (Pty) Ltd, 2011

10 Orange StreetSunnysideAuckland Park 2092South Africa(+27 11) 628-3200www.jacana.co.za

© Text, Devi Moodley Rajab, 2011Photography supplied by Ranjith KallyCover photo: Rajwanthia Kally 1896-1959, housewife and mother of Ranjith KallyAdditional photography supplied by “Bailey’s African History Archives” and Satish DhupeliaThank you to all the women who provided us with additional photographic imagery

All rights reserved.

ISBN 978-1-4314-0104-8

Cover and text design by Geraldine HendlerSet in New Caledonia Printed by Craft Print, SingaporeJob no. 001431

See a complete list of Jacana titles at www.jacana.co.za