Headwrap by Natalie Giquel

4. EDITORIAL 6. IN-FORMATION 9. THE KAPLAN TWINS 12. WHO MUST SLAVE FOR BEYONCE TO SLAY? 16. #THISFLAG 18. WHATâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S WRONG WITH MY HAIR? 20. HOW DOES THE ASPIRING ANNA WINTOUR TAKE TO SMALL TOWN FASHION ? 22. DOEKS: THE HELMETS OF THE REVOLUTION? 28. ART-FRICA 30. IDENTIFY ME NOT BY MY SKIN 34. BEADING THE WAY OUT OF POVERTY 36. A FOREIGNER, NOT AN ENEMY 38. NOT A BOY, NOT A GIRL 40. THE GODDESS OF HAIR GOES POLITICAL COVER AND CONTENTS PHOTOS: NATALIE GIQUEL

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LEFT TO RIGHT NATALIE GIQUEL MAHLATSE BAMBO LUCY GRINKLER

ENTS LEFT TO RIGHT

CHIZI KATAMA MOONO CHUNGU

PHOTOS: JANET CLIFT

nvision your most intelligent, gorgeous, political, Instagram-famous friend as an online magazine. Headwrap is that friend. While the recent wave of student politics throughout South Africa has been more than well documented, there is a vibrant cultural element to this new political consciousness that often goes overlooked. Surrounding the rise of “wokeness” and various protest movements of young Africans is an ostentatious cultural shift that goes hand in hand with that politicisation.

From the way we dress, talk, act and simply live, it is evident that a new culture has taken young Africans by storm, ranging from tiny Grahamstown in the Eastern Cape to the continent at large. It is a culture that is unique to this particular moment in time and space. It is a culture deserving of exploration, a culture deserving of celebration. Headwrap is that celebration, with a particular focus on art, identity, millennial politics and fashion. Whichever way you look at it, these changes are only gaining momentum and scope in the globalised era. A writer at Wired magazine expresses that “entertainment has always been a getaway, but that vacation is getting longer and longer”. This particular generation is investing its time in creating new forms of entertainment using the endless tools at their disposal in the modern age. Art is taking on a new form, because applications such as Instagram and Snapchat have helped develop niche markets. A side effect of social media is a sudden exposure of our generation to different cultures and mindsets. Our generation learns from this new exposure and infuses our own heritage into Western culture. Despite the aesthetic appeal of this cultural change, there is a more significant undertone. A new culture of politics and feminism has deeply embedded its roots in this generation and frames how individuals live and express themselves. Although political consciousness has always existed, this particular generation has been dubbed as the “age of wokeness”, where politics has become popularised, as we work every day to unlearn whatever harmful thinking we were unconsciously taught. This phenomenon has given a voice to those who for too long could not be heard and Headwrap only hopes to project it further. The headwrap has been borrowed as a fashion statement by young political Africans from traditional attire to reassert an African identity in a Western hegemonic society. They are the “helmets of the revolution”. In this same way Headwrap celebrates traditional African culture as a contemporary aesthetic. Perceptions of African culture have for so long been limited to ideas of primitivism and poverty. These perceptions are still pertinent in the minds of many, though they are inaccurate. They neglect the vibrant, forward-thinking shift that has swept this continent; a continent that is full of innovative and progressive forms of expression. While sleekness, elegance and modernity tend to be seen as the antithesis of Africaness, Headwrap is physical evidence that this is not so. Africanness can also mean clean, cutting-edge and sexy. Headwrap aims to enlighten its readers while simultaneously embracing African culture, in all the dynamic forms that takes. This way, the proverb: “Umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu” will truly be honoured. We Africans are people because of each other. Woza, come, let us get to know Africa together.

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Entertainment has always been a getaway, but that vacation is getting longer and longer

PHOTOS: MOONO CHUNGU

IN-FORMATION

By Chizi Katama Photos: Chizi Katamwwa

hen repeated enough, something begins to be perceived as the truth. If we take it a step further and practice this ‘truth’ enough, it comes to be dismissed as natural. For centuries minorities have been oppressed and belittled for no other reason than ‘that’s just the way things are’.

Robin Morgan, author of Sisterhood is Global: The International Women’s Movement Anthology points out that the group facing the highest amount of discrimination are poor, third world, disabled, LGBT women and children of colour. Following years of slavery and countless more of patriarchy, the black woman has finally spoken and her roar sounds something like “black girl magic”. Black girl magic as a concept originated in 2013 when activist CaShawn Thompson uttered the words “black girls are magical”. The simple phrase quickly became the spearhead of a movement for women of colour. Siphokazi Mathe says that this statement is absolutely necessary because for a long time, women of colour have been disregarded in history. She believes that “you don’t have to do something outstanding academically, in terms of sports or looks to be magical”, but rather the importance is the fact that a space has been created for black women to just be. The phrase has not gone without any criticism, as hashtags such as #whitegirlmagic began trending in 2015 under the notion that the original hashtag was exclusionary. Fox News analyst Linda Chavers chimed in that this hashtag is only adding to the fact that black women already appear subhuman and alien. Believers in the movement did not let this go unnoticed and were quick to state the obvious: black girl magic doesn’t mean we are superhuman, it means we are celebrating ourselves when no one else will. Dumisani Samaneka, an Honours student majoring in Philosophy, believes that the criticisms that arise from the liberation and celebration of a minority are often due to fear. A silence falls as he picks his next words with care. His watched ticks too loudly, but he never breaks eye contact. Finally, he graces me with his thoughts and says, “there is an intrinsic fear of retaliation and displacement of power should the black woman get her day to shine”. Siphokazi adds that despite the fact that black women have never been given a space, they are fighting for that space and it is intimidating to many people. She continues, “We are no longer docile,” as she snaps her fingers. “We are a force to be reckoned with. Let them be scared”. The corners of her lips turn up slightly. Shonda Rhimes, producer of shows such as Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal and How to Get Away with Murder has been called an ‘angry black woman’ on numerous occasions, a phrase that is too familiar with every woman of colour. She earned this title through her portrayal of independent women who often take the lead roles in her productions. Despite the backlash, Shonda has now been dubbed the ‘queen of Thursday night’, the day her shows are aired. The title ‘queen’ goes hand-in-hand with the black girl magic movement as it helps empower and assert authority that black women are so desperately after. “It is all about representation,” Kimberly Wandzanai says as she strokes her mane of fluffy black hair. An integral part of the movement is embracing one’s natural appearance. Plumb lips, kinky hair and all. Kimberly’s hair has been natural her entire life but she recalls straightening it day after day just so she could have a neat ponytail and ultimately fit in at school. Consequently, her hair began falling off but all that meant is she could finally buy a longer, silkier weave. She sighs, “If I had black girl magic trending back then, maybe I would not have subjected my hair to that”. Nonetheless, she is now happy for the young black girls that can grow up relating to the actresses on television, a joy she rarely experienced growing up.

THE KAPLAN TWINS

By Natalie Giquel Photos sourced from Instagram

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n Friday 6 August 2016, Elite Daily released a video that contained an interview with two recently made famous artists: the Kaplan twins. These artists decided to realistically paint snapshots from the 2007 Kim Kardashian and William Ray Norwood (Ray J) sex tape.

Allie and Lexie Kaplan have exhibited a collection of these works in Beverly Hills and entitled the collection ‘Make Me Famous’. The paintings show graphic images of Kim Kardashian and Ray J in provocative positions, leaving little to the imagination. The paintings are created in a style that mimics a Snapshot, with “Pornhub” (the name of a pornographic website) painted along the bottom half. Pornhub was one of their main purchasers as a result of the exhibition.

Sexploitation through the media

The video has been going viral online and causing a mixture of reactions. Allie Kaplan described the work’s aim to be generating “a conversation” regarding the idea of “sexploitation” through the media. Professor Sharleen Khan, a lecturer in the Arts Department at Rhodes University describe the works as problematic because of the “racialised elements” such as the fragmentation and “disembodiment of the black dick.” The paintings show large portions of Kardashian, such as her torso, face and even full body shots. The parts of Ray J made available in the paintings are either genitals or his mouth.

There are contrasting opinions on the artworks and their overall effect. Professor Same Mdluli, a guest lecturer in the Art Department at Rhodes University, says that she does not find the paintings “shocking or awe-inspiring.” Mduli feels that the two young female artists did not fully grasp the intensity of what they were producing. “There needs to be a far more engaging and critical gaze on such artworks,” she says. Third year Fine Arts student at Rhodes University, Stephanie Proctor says she “really loved what the work was trying to achieve.” She states that the use of the artists own bodies towards a means of marketing and appropriation is “interesting” and unconventional. The twins included various provocative images of themselves in the exhibit in an effort to show their willingness to exploit themselves. Famous people such as Melania Trump and Paris Hilton featured in other paintings.

By Lucy Grinker Photos: Natalie Giquel

WHO MUST SLAVE FOR BEYONCÃ&#x2030; TO SLAY?

eyoncé Knowles, is credited with creating the socially revolutionary visual album Lemonade, which was released in April this year. Even for us bystanders to the real target audience - black women - it is 45 minutes of pure empowerment; an aesthetically pleasing reclamation of black cultural imagery. Beyoncé’s Formation World Tour, which promotes the album, will stop in 50 different cities over the next year. Not one of those is found below the equator. The stark inconsistencies between Beyoncé’s professed ethos and her business model are not reserved to her refusal to venture out of Europe and North America. She has been widely criticised for being culturally appropriative by dressing up as a Bollywood actress in the Coldplay music video “Hymn for the Weekend”. More harrowingly, Bangladeshi women who work at the factory of her extensively successful Ivy Park clothing line with Topshop, have described the harsh working conditions, long hours, and low pay. Beyoncé described the athleisure line as intended to “empower and

inspire women”. It appears that the current beacon of black female empowerment is only concerned with empowering and inspiring a select group of black women: those in Western society. While these seemingly obvious indicators that Beyoncé the human being has no qualms about disempowering women of colour in developing countries, it appears to escape the general public’s consideration that cashing in on contemporary politics may be an incredibly effective business plan. To be reminded that Beyoncé is not a single woman, but the face and brand of an extensive network of marketers, publicists, producers and agents, would be to shatter the powerful and necessary image of the successful black woman as an individual. While I think unequivocally that Beyoncé should be openly criticised and held accountable for her misgivings against women in developing countries, one can still argue that nothing can reduce the rare impact that Lemonade has had on the psyche of young women. As long as that keeps happening, I am more than prepared to continue drinking the Lemonade Kool-Aid.

#THIS FLAG By Moono Chungu Photo: Moono Chungu

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As a ‘born-free’, she aspires to make Zimbabwe as great as it sounded in the stories told by her grandparents

he combination of her colourful flag against her melanin skin is eye-catching. With the flag wrapped around her clenched fists, she seems content. This patriotic Zimbabwean craves change. 23-year-old Perpetual Chivhere is a fourth year LLB student at Rhodes University. Most students know the international student as ‘Pepsi’.

In 2015, Rhodes University held an International Parade. During the parade, Chivhere inspired many to appreciate their countries. The student jubilantly led her fellow Zimbabweans. Singing songs and reminiscing about their homeland, they marched from Eden Grove, through town, to the Great Field. Chivhere says that as a ‘born-free’, she aspires to make Zimbabwe as great as it sounded in the stories told by her grandparents. The Zimbabwean revealed how meeting first South African president Nelson Mandela kindled her ambitions. In 1997 Mandela travelled to the small city of Kwekwe. During his excursion, Mandela visited Mary Ward pre-school. Chivhere was a pupil at the school. “For weeks we prepared for the visit. We had to buy new shoes; it was a big hoo-haa,” Chivhere says. “When I got home I asked my mum what I needed to do to be a president. I wanted people to appreciate me when I visit them. Mum said both Mugabe and Mandela are lawyers”. That was the day Chivhere decided that she would be a lawyer and a president. She says that the law is an important tool in the fight for freedom. Zimbabwean student Rangarirai Takuva says Chivhere would make a good president. He applauds her diligence. “I have never met anyone who wants to serve people as much as Pepsi,” Takuva says. “She was actually supposed to be president of the Zimbabwe Society this year, but the society was resolved”. The secretary of the Law department Fezeka smiles when Chivhere walks into her office. One can tell that the law student easily pleases people. “I think Pepsi is a very respectful young lady,” Mwellie comments. Chivhere is proud of Pastor Evan Mawarire for starting the #ThisFlag movement. Zimbabwe is known as a country that uses terror to silence its citizens. #ThisFlag has encouraged Zimbabweans to expose their grievances about the government. Despite this, the Zimbabwean government plans to implement more repressive laws. Luckily, Zimbabweans have become more vocal and could protest this implementation. During his first publication, Pastor Evan said: “This beautiful flag. They tell me that the green is for the vegetation [but] I don’t see any crops in my country. And the yellow is for all the minerals… I don’t know how much of it is left [or] who they sold it to. The red they say that is the blood that was shed to secure freedom… if they that shed their blood were here… they would demand their blood be brought back. The black is for people like me, but I don’t feel like I am a part of it”. The movement has encouraged Chivhere to post her hopes for Zimbabwe on social media. She is less afraid about being punished by the government. She is also more proud about her nationality. Pastor Evans left Zimbabwe in July. He took exile in South Africa until August and is now in the United States of America. Chivhere dissuades Zimbabweans from being disheartened by his absence in Zimbabwe. “He did his part. It is now time for us to do ours,” she says. “If each of us stands up, they cannot beat all of us. People must also vote so that we don’t take the country by violent means”. Every revolution begins with a passion for change. Zimbabweans have displayed this passion. Let Africa join the revolution in honour of our brothers and sisters. Viva #ThisFlag.

atural hair may be defined as the chemical free, unaltered and organic state of hair; especially that of black individuals. This previously unpopular way to wear hair is quickly making a comeback. Natural hair has been met with some harsh criticism. Olympic gymnast, Gabby Douglas, has been met with public humiliation and criticism. Gabby Douglas wore her hair naturally and was criticised for its ‘unruliness’ and ‘untidiness’. This is the same kind of treatment people with natural hair still experience in the professional workplace and schools.

Samkele Myeni, a lover of natural hair, describes this criticism as oppressive. “Natural hair being seen as unprofessional has nothing to do with how it looks and everything to do with the upholding of Western beauty standards,” says Myeni. Black people often have to conform to hair straightening which makes use of dangerous chemical products, further oppressing them. Due to the previous devaluation of natural kinky hair and the association of afros, dreadlocks and many other styles with militancy and revolutionary thinking, natural hair may be seen as a political statement. It is for this reason that it makes some people uncomfortable. “It is always counter-intuitive for black people to reject white beauty standards. It is just not expected,” says Myeni. Noxolo Ntintili, the ambassador of Native Child Hair products, believes that the mere fact that black people cannot wear their natural hair in some spaces means that they are marginalised. “I do not understand how your hairstyle affects how you do at school, it has never made sense,” says Ntintili. As one of the first people in her former high school to actively wear her natural hair, Ntintili says it is actually the black community that sets these standards. “When I was at school it actually hurt so much that the negativity came from black teachers,” recalls Ntintili. In a society that is highly critical of natural hair, those who choose not to wear it are often labelled as self-hating. “My personal experience was that my hair had been relaxed since childhood because there was an element of self-hate and erasing the black from me in my family. Once I realised that I did not want to subscribe to that thinking, I chopped off the locks but I don’t think I would be any less proud of being black,” explains Myeni. Marcia Kotu, a self-described weave advocate believes that natural hair, just like any other hairstyle, is a trend that is nothing but temporary. Kotu says that it is for this reason that anything other than natural cannot constitute self-hate. ‘To each his own,” says Ntintili. Self-hate goes deeper and beyond one’s choice in hairstyle. Even within the natural hair community there are oppressive beauty standards. “If your natural hair is in loose curls and it is long then you have good hair. If your hair is short, kinky, curly and tangled up then you are not hair goals,” Myeni expresses. Arguably, it can be said that the standards for black women’s hair are not any different from how other beauty standards are homogenised. “If you are natural, you are too angry or too black. If you wear a weave then you are superficial and self-hating,” Ntintili states. What Myeni, Ntintili and Kotu can agree on is that all women, especially black women, should be able to wear their hair however they choose; no matter the context.

By Mahlatse Bambo Photos: Natalie Giquel

WHATâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S WRONG WITH MY HAIR?

HOW DOES THE ASPIRING ANNA WINTOUR TAKE TO SMALL TOWN FASHION?

By Natalie Giquel Photos by Natalie Giquel

rethe Swart, in having left the white-washed and café pervaded Cape Town, has made the huge jump in coming to Grahamstown to complete her honours year at Rhodes University. Swart has left a striking impression on all who have met her in just the few short months she has been in town, stirring up a storm of fashion, culture and flare in both her academic and personal life. Swart was born in a Northern suburb of Cape Town named Panorama in 1994.

fects of the fashion industry is something that goes largely unrecognised.” She explains the perception of cultural expression within fashion to be “beautifully cut garments” and “bold prints.” Very little is explained as to the damaging effects of creating these attractive items. This has been the focus of Swart’s honours thesis. “When I was nearing the end of my undergrad degree, I knew completely that I wanted to study Journalism,” Swart explains. “Rhodes has the reputation of being the best.” She describes herself as an avid reader and a love for writing that originates from “watching the Devil Wears Prada” when she was 12. Combining the passion of writing with fashion was the ultimate attraction.

She remained close to the city centre throughout her schooling life, completing her second level education at Paarl Girls High school. Swart recognises how “privileged” she has been in having grown up in an area that offered her everything. From nature-based entertainment to the sophistication of city-life movement, she has wanted for nothing. “Grahamstown was the biggest jump I had ever taken,” she says, bemused. “I knew no one and left the life I had carefully constructed for myself behind.” She describes the lifestyle as “rejuvenating” in its diversity, as she was exposed to such a mixture of cultures, arts and expressions.

“Fashion is so fragmented,” said Swart. “It’s the combination of unique talent, hours and hours of dedication and thought which then comes together and forming something beautiful.” Swart explains the “genius” within fashion as it somehow reflects the sociopolitical, cultural and economic stage of society at any given time.

In moving to a smaller town the largest challenge was integrating herself into such a close-knit community at a postgraduate level. Shortly upon her arrival, Swart was promoted to the role of editor in the new fashion section of Rhodes’s University’s student paper, Activate. Since then she has flourished in the creative realm of writing, incorporating a strong sense of depth to a section that would usually be perceived as relatively shallow. “My journalistic goal is simply to inform,” she said. “The environmental and ethical ef-

“For example, the current bohemian, high-waisted, dreamy hippy look articulates the current societal mentality,” she says. “Girls are striving to appear liberal and openminded through their dress as we return to a 70’s look.” She states that although she loves the look, she believes it will fade quickly and there will once again be a return to a more ‘classical’ look. Swart’s experience at Rhodes has been a definitive transition from her previous lifestyle, yet she has made a home for herself. “This quaint little dorpie has grown on me.” At the end of this year Swart returns to Cape Town to begin an internship at Fairlady. “I can’t wait to begin the grind,” she says. “This is what I’ve been working for and now it’s finally time to expand myself and see more of what the art of fashion has to offer.”

:SKEOD EHT FO STEMLEH EHT ?NOITULOVER

reknirG ycuL yB reknirG ycuL yb sotohP leuqiG eilataN &

DOEKS: THE HELMETS OF THE REVOLUTION?

By Lucy Grinker Photos by Lucy Grinker & Natalie Giquel

hen Pan-Africanist feminist Nhlakanipho Mahlangu started handing out green, yellow and white coloured doeks on Rhodes University campus during the local government election period in early August, she did not expect them to be as popular as they were. Some of the takers she knew were staunch African National Congress (ANC) supporters, or South African Students Congress (SASCO) aligned, like herself. Others had very different reasons.“We’re going to look so great when #FeesMustFall comes,” one woman told Mahlangu as she accepted the ANC headscarf. Be it a cloth decorated with traditional Xhosa beads, material in West African wax print, or a scarf someone found in her mother’s cupboard, the doek has undoubtedly positioned itself as a fashion staple amongst black female students on campus. The headdress which is rooted in Xhosa culture as an indication of a married woman has entered into the mainstream so significantly it litters the social media feeds of South African pop culture icons such as Bonang Matheba, Thembi Seete, and Nomzamo Mbatha. “For me, the doek is purely aesthetic,” says Nkosazana Hlalethwa, a Journalism and Media Studies student, “because I generally like to mix athleisure with African influences.” Hlalethwa, who cares deeply about fashion and presentation, recently shaved off all of her hair. “I have a niece and younger sister back home,” she explains. It is important for me to demonstrate to them that a black woman can feel comfortable while being natural.” For Mahlangu, while she has “always been enamored with the girl from ekasi (township) look”, her choice to wear a doek is not always an unconscious decision based purely on fashion. “Every day as a black woman I am in the process of reclaiming my body from whiteness,” she says. “Something happens to me when I wear a doek. It makes me feel Xhosa.” If she knows she is likely to be in a particularly white environment, Mahlangu will make a conscious effort to wear a doek and African clothing. “It’s about frustrating those spaces of oppression,” she explains.

While the Anthropology Department’s Busi Tshabalala wears doeks for aesthetic and convenience reasons, she thinks they have the potential to make a strong political statement. “The personal is political,” she says. “This is the core of it all. Politics is being embodied in everyday living through people’s hair”. The doek as a political item came into the spotlight in June after an ENCA journalist’s piece was not aired on the grounds that the doek she was wearing for Africa Day breached the news network’s dress code. The matter went viral when angered South Africans took to Twitter to celebrate the doek by posting pictures of themselves in the traditional headscarf alongside the trending hashtag #respekthedoek. Mahlangu argues that the doek has become more than just a vaguely political item of clothing. It has become a symbol of the recent student activism across South African universities. Not only did Destiny magazine’s powerful cover image of Nompendulo Mkatshwana, the University of the Witwatersrand student credited with starting the #FeesMustFall movement, feature the activist wearing an ANC doek, but this style of dress is extremely visible in Rhodes University activist circles. “When we’re running around singing ‘Solomon’ it doesn’t matter what you look like,” says Mahlangu, “but when we meet with the cadres and we debrief with the Pan-Africanists I feel there’s a particular way women look, because they feel comfortable to do so in those spaces.” The prevalence of ANC doeks is also telling of the political climate of student activism, according to Mahlangu. “We are allegedly apolitical,” she explains. “Supposedly we have no political association, we just have movement politics. The popularity of ANC doeks proves just how fragile that sentiment is.” Despite Mahlangu’s belief that the doek can be an empowering item for black women, she is cautious of harboring the expectation that every conscientised woman must present in this particular way. She argues that imposing further restrictions on how women dress is also oppressive. “We must not ask black women to reclaim their bodies every damn day to be this beacon of consciousness. We must be able to conceptualise a woman who stands in front of us with a Peruvian weave, body-con dress and Mac lipstick who is just as much of an activist as me.”

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Something happens to me when I wear a doek. It makes me feel Xhosa.

ART-FRICA By Chizi Katama Photos: Chizi Katama

mama Vuyiswa Antomi sits outside the arch day in and day out. Her nimble hands are one with her thread and needle as she arranges bead after bead. She idly looks up barely shifting the pace of her fingers, a motion which makes her intricate work look as easy as possible. After mastering a little courage, minute knowledge of isiXhosa and overconfidence, I proclaimed “molo mama!” She appears startled, but she smiles nonetheless. Since 1991, Mama Antomi has been creating and selling beautiful hand crafted jewellery here in Grahamstown. Lately, she has acknowledged a greater demand for African jewellery among young people. She states that many of her clients are drawn to the South African colours, an act of pride in their heritage. It seems that being African is being celebrated more and more. Because of this, Mama Antomi’s work is in such high demand that she is constantly taking orders and can now comfortably produce a large necklace in two days. Still lingering on the thought of her professional career, she giggles and says, “being African is fashionable”. This new wave of “Africanness” is quickly consuming the continent. Alec Banks of Highsnobiety talks about five new subcultures in Africa that have made a huge impact on the continent. Of these styles are the la sape of the Democratic Republic of Congo, a term referring to a society of atmosphere setters and elegant people. Making the list are also the Skhothane and Swenkas of South Africa. This shows that Africans are no longer shy to make statements in fashion nor are they comfortably conforming to Western styles any longer. Alec suggests that these have greatly been influenced by countries such as Nigeria and Angola that are constantly in demand

for luxury goods as well as at the many “notable fashion weeks” here on the continent. To see the evidence of how this culture is morphing, a simple walk to Jacksons here in Grahamstown will suffice. The huge store is covered in beautiful materials from one end to the next. The assistant manager is more than enthusiastic about giving a brief history of shweshwe, one of South Africa’s traditional fabrics. She beams at the while relaying that their companies located in Kings Willian town and East London are the largest producers of the printed cotton fabric in the country. With a wide arm gesture, she points out the blue and brown materials and states that they are the “more traditional and original ones”. Further down the shelf sits the same design but on brighter coloured material. While motioning at the fabric she says that this particular design is “younger than 10 years [and that] it is very popular. The ladies love it!” The bold move to coloured print was necessary to accommodate the younger client base that hopes to break away from the idea that shweshwes are to be worn only in times of bereavement or marriage. As someone who has never owned a great deal of African attire, Uzoma Odera could no longer avoid the obvious fascination with the trend in his fifth year at Rhodes University. Although he is fascinated by it, he says that he is still trying to “find his footing” and see how he can both incorperate his heritage and reflect his personality at the same time. “It is a slippery slope’” he says in reference to finding the right balance between both. Right now he is content with simply being African. African designers are adapting to the switch as well and creating work that modernises old traditions. Cable News Network’s (CNN) Jennifer Obiuwevbi writes about the move of African style from traditional loose fitting garments to more “edgy and risqué” trends that have graced the catwalks of “Paris, New York, Milan and beyond”. While straying from the traditional and more conservative styles, they maintain an air of elegance and culture.

IDENTIFY ME NOT BY SKIN, BUT BY MY CLOTHES By Moono Chungu Photos: Natalie Giquel

aybe my “ H e l l o” was not l o u d enough. S h e looked at my rich melanin skin, my black woollen hair, my thick lips, and my voluptuous body then responded, “Molo sisi”. Surely because I am black, I would be able to speak isiXhosa. She neglected the option that I could be an international stwudent, which I am. I stood before the cafeteria lady and witnessed the ‘feeling of belonging’ escape me. Her attitude towards me emphasised that I was nothing but a foreigner in this country. After this encounter, my dining hall experiences were distasteful. In the cafeteria serving booth, a disappointed face greeted me time and time again. No-one needed to tell me that as a black girl, I ought to be ashamed for not speaking ‘my’ language. At the end of term one, I decided to expose my foreignness. I refused to be perceived as a ‘coconut’. If the cafeteria lady was going to scrutinise me, she had to do so based on my actual identity. So over the two week-long holiday, I employed my fashion design skills and switched up my wardrobe.

The rolling sound of my suitcase wheels fuelled my excitement. In my luggage were: the 11 dresses, three skirts, two shorts, a pair of shoes and handbag that were all made out of chitenge, a prevalent Zambian material. I brought my culture to South Africa. If I was going to be treated like an outsider because of my inability to speak isiXhosa, I was going to embrace my foreignness. Behind this Zambian woman is the story about my chitenge clothes. Before we begin, I should tell you that there is a difference between a chitenge and chitenge clothes. On the one hand, a chitenge is usually a two-metre long, multicoloured material. It is wrapped around the waist of a woman. It can also be used to dance. On the other hand, chitenge clothes are woven out of chitenge material. The first time I wore a chitenge was in grade eight. At the age of 12, I had basically qualified to be a ‘woman’. Back then, it was just a traditional material that I occasionally wore to preserve my decency. Now, my inability to speak isiXhosa presented me with the ability to show off my tradition. I analysed my body structure and designed clothes that would suit me. Seeing as I am curvaceous, I prefer body-fitting clothes. Despite this fact, I designed a few flared dresses, which display my playful personality. When picking out chitenge material, I often se-

lect the pink coloured ones because I love the colour. Still, creativity comes with diversity. So I also choose neutral colours like brown, which in my opinion emphasise African identity. Brown reminds me of the rich African soils. Blue chitenge materials exhibit my appreciation for the many water bodies in my country. Some of these are: the Victoria Falls, Zambezi river, Kafue river, Kariba Dam, Lake Tanganyika, Lake Mweru and Lake Bangweulu. I did not only decide to embrace my nationality. I also took the opportunity to celebrate my country’s natural beauty. Along with this great opportunity came the question, “Oh that’s a nice dress, where did you get it?” In response, I’d reveal that I designed it and made it in Zambia. That followed the revelation that I am a foreigner. Hopefully I portrayed the impression that I am proud of my heritage despite being a ‘kwerekwere’ (the derogatory term for a foreigner). Changing my dress code changed me. For one, I learnt to love my culture more. Secondly, I was pleased to introduce many people to a different ethnic group without them having to travel. Truly, my chitenge clothes brought colour into my life – literally and figuratively.

By Mahlatse Bambo Photo: Mahlatse Bambo

BEADING THE WAY OUT OF POVERTY

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Most of the traditions and rituals of the amaXhosa are centred around what they are wearing.

hrough the chaos and the rows and rows of street vendors, she catches one’s attention first. Something about her smile is so warm and welcoming. Before her lies a beautiful display of vibrant colours: beads, fabrics and leather. On approaching, she is gregarious and engaging. Her name is Nomonde Dyaloyi and she hand crafts traditional Zulu and Xhosa attire.

Born and raised in Grahamstown, Dyaloyi’s story begins a long time ago. She returns to when she was just a teenager to regale how she learnt how to make these crafts. She reminisces about how her grandmother passed the talent onto her. “After school, I used to sit and watch my grandmother make them,” says Dyaloyi. It is a family tradition passed on from mothers to daughters.

detail. Her craftsmanship is flawless. Dyaloyi says the beadwork is extremely time consuming. She adds that because of her 20 plus years of experience, it does not take her very long. The beadwork on Xhosa women says many things about her status in life and her surrounding community. South Africa has a number of beading projects and most of them do effective work in combating poverty in rural and urban areas. Due to South Africa’s increasing unemployment rates, Dyaloyi found herself unemployed. A few years ago when she was struggling to find a job, she decided to use her talent. “It was only when I could not find a job, that I decided to sell them for a profit,” says Dyaloyi. “Before I used to just make them for myself to wear to traditional ceremonies,” she explains.

She is eager to show off all her products and give insight into Xhosa culture. Most of the traditions and rituals of the amaXhosa are centred around what they are wearing. From the colour of the dress to the beads suspended from their bodies. The Xhosa traditional attire comes in various shades, shapes and sizes. Each with its own particular message.

Now over 20 years later, she is teaching her very own daughter the craft. Her 23-year-old daughter, Mawande, has become so good at it that she assists her mother when she is overwhelmed with orders. “I enjoy making the crafts very much and I love how I get to help my mother out,” says Mawande.

The kaleidoscope of fabrics and headwraps is mesmerising. Dyaloyi notices and is happy to elaborate on the importance of them to Xhosa women. In the Xhosa tradition you can tell if a women is married by the covering of her head. If her headwrap dips below eyebrow level, it means she has recently been married. “She can only remove the headwrap up off her eyes, when she has her first baby,” Dyaloyi explains.

Although Dyaloyi says that most of her customers are international tourists, it was locals who encouraged her to start selling. “When I used to make the clothes for myself, people who saw me wearing them, would always ask me where I got them from. That is when I realized that there is a market for them and I decided to sell them,” says Dyaloyi.

Dyaloyi’s beadwork is breathtaking. You can tell that very careful attention is paid to

It is believed that the greatness of the artist’s work is determined by their popularity. Judging by the demand for her crafts, it is evident that mama Dyaloyi is one of the best.

A FOREIGNER, NOT AN ENEMY By Moono Chungu Photo sourced from Facebook

t is impressive to see our generation engaging in radical movements against injustice in society. It is not surprising then that an individual would question why xenophobia and the prejudice against foreigners prevail in our communities.

injustice is a result of lack of knowledge. If the Rhodes University confessor, mentioned above, knew how much foreigners have helped South Africans, he or she might have refrained from suggesting that foreigners “are not entitled to anything the South Africans are entitled to”.

Over the past two years, the youth in South Africa have engaged in #FeesMustFall, #RUReferenceList and the Pretoria Girls High protests against social injustices. Additionally, we have participated in the #ZumaMustFall movement. This involvement demonstrates the political eagerness of this generation. We want to see a revolution.

During Apartheid, many African National Congress (ANC) members took exile in Zambia, as well as other countries in Africa. During their exile, they were welcomed and treated with dignity, despite their foreign nationality. Contrary to the hospitality shown to South Africans, foreigners are emotionally abused. Labelling foreign nationals with the insulting term Kwerekwere is simply a form of emotional abuse. Although the term translates to ‘foreigner’, it is increasingly insulting. These Kwerekweres are sometimes physically abused.

It is then ironic that the same generation that actively dissuades inequality continues to practice xenophobia. Luckily, the ugly practice is not always violent. Despite this fact, xenophobia still affects foreigners, as it alienates them. For example, on the Rhodes Confessions Facebook page a confessor posted, “If you are not a South African national, you are simply not entitled to anything the South Africans are entitled to.” One can assume that most people who post on the Rhodes Confessions page are students. This is a further display of how some of the youth in South Africa are prejudiced against foreign nations. As mentioned above, this prejudice is paradoxical – especially coming from a generation that has a passion for justice. The time has come for us to address this injustice. One would like to believe that the

In May 2015, the xenophobic attacks in Durban, Johannesburg, Grahamstown and other parts of the country displayed how some South Africans do not practice ubuntu with foreigners. Furthermore, it should not be forgotten that these Kwerekweres played a substantial role in helping South Africa to gain independence. So why is it that South Africans do not appreciate foreigners, but instead forsake the same people who helped them? The reason has to be lack of knowledge. You and I need to enhance our knowledge about ‘others’. That way, an appreciation of Kwerekweres will come easily to our hearts. Let us take a stance to end injustice against foreigners. In other words: #XenophobiaMustFall.

NOT A BOY, NOT A GIRL, BUT AN INFINITE COSMIC THING By Lucy Grinker Photo: sourced from Facebook

ordan Castopoli is hard to miss. He is the Rhodes University student in the rainbow socks and painted nails. Alternatively, he is the person you mistook for a woman on High Street, with dark luscious curls and winged eyeliner. Tomorrow he might be the guy with slicked back hair and a beard, betraying his Italian heritage to the onlooker. Jordan is all of those things, and everything inbetween. He is fluid; constantly evolving. He chooses to express that evolution through his clothes.

Jordan’s fashion sense is described by himself as the meeting place of skateboard street style and Kesha. “Imagine a whole lot of glitter and a pile of dirty, grungy clothes,” he says. This is not entirely abstract: his bedroom in Jan Smuts House is impressively neat, with the exception of a substantial mound of used rainbow, pastel and denim clothes stuffed into his closet. Jordan lights up when he talks about clothes, like he does when about the cosmos, animals or music. He presents his guilty pleasure: copious pairs of socks in various prints and colours. One pair is covered in macarons, another in cats. The pair he wears currently portrays a dazzling sunset tucked over his unicorn pyjama bottoms. A classic oversized denim jacket that he picked up in a thrift store, like most of his clothes, is paraded around the room. It is the quintessential 1990s grunge piece, an era he has always been inspired by, independent of the current fad. “I grew up wanting to be Courtney Love,” he says, “when everyone else just wanted to be Christiano Ronaldo.” Jordan’s parents are first generation immigrants in South Africa. When the family moved from Italy to Johannesburg, Jordan was seven. He could not speak any English. The Catholic school he attended was suffocatingly small. His early child-

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I grew up wanting to be Courtney Love when everyone else just wanted to be Christiano Ronaldo.

hood was spent resenting the short hair cuts that were required alongside his horrible khaki school uniform, and putting sellotape over his fingers to hide his painted nails from disapproving parents. “School just dulled me down,” Jordan says. “I was literally and figuratively putting on a costume every day. By the time you’re a teenager, you do not even want to wear that pink shirt anymore, because you want to have friends.” Jordan avoided coming to terms with his gender fluidity and sexuality all through high school. He describes this as a period of “darkness and confusion.” It began to take its toll and he stopped eating regularly. By his matric year, Jordan only wore black. The story of how colour crept back into Jordan’s wardrobe and life, is rooted in surprisingly undesirable circumstances. After living in South Africa for over ten years, home affairs still had not granted Jordan citizenship. He was forced into two gap years before the matter was settled and he could apply to university. In that period he took up many projects, but most importantly he had the opportunity to resolve his internal turmoil. He had time. “Time to sit and think about myself, and love and learn and party,” Jordan recalls. “Dude, I was not supposed to come to university straight out of school. I am so grateful for that time.” Aesthetic appeal forms a big part of Jordan’s love for clothes, but he is not interested in a fashion that is about vanity or consumerism. There are much more pressing concerns in the world than clothes, but Jordan considers his body his self expression; a canvas on which to experiment. “I have been thinking of cutting my hair really short and dying it a crazy colour,” Jordan contemplates. “It might look cool, it might not.” He shrugs, “Who cares? It will just grow back in the end anyway.”

THE GODDESS OF HAIR GOES POLITICAL By Moono Chungu Photo: sourced from Facebook

n 8 August 2016, Lesedi Thwala confidently approaches the podium at the Rhodes University Grazzle. The 21-year-old rapper’s optimistic countenance incites jubilation among the audience.

Vibrantly reading her speech, she is often interrupted by cheering students. Thwala assured the audience that she was the best candidate for the Projects Manager portfolio for 2017’s Student Representative Council (SRC). “I am not here to sell you dreams,” she says. “I aim to constantly achieve more than just the roles of a Projects Manager that have been set by the SRC”. The fancy-haired beauty is currently the Vice President and Treasurer of Gender Action Project. She says that her experience has been helpful in sharpening her planning and accountability skills. Thwala is also the Entertainment Representative of Allan Grey House. Although Thwala has held these high positions, most people around Rhodes University have come to know her because of her unique and exquisite hairstyles. Taponeswa Tembo’s attention is gripped as she approaches the library. The second year Accounting student stops to scan Thwala’s bright campaign banners.

“I did not know her name before now, but I recognised her because she is always colourful. Sometimes she has red hair, sometimes yellow. Even blue I think,” Tembo says. Thwala is a Drama and Journalism and Media Studies student. She appears to be influential. After the Grazzle ended, a fellow student commented: “She’s a really cool person and her hair is everything,” Rethabile Taole says. “She even inspired me to do my wool braids because they look good on her, even though I could not get bright colours like her”. Besides her fancy, brightly coloured hairstyles, the group of students at the Grazzle know Thwala for other reasons. When the second year student mentioned her success in poetry, rapping and writing, several members of the audience cheered in approval. Thwala was competing with Yolanda Dyantyi for the position of Projects Manager for the SRC. Dyantyi is known at Rhodes University for her active participation in the #RUReferenceList protests of 2016. A week after the Grazzle was held, Dyantyi was elected as Projects Manager. Dyantyi decided to forefeit the position. She then handed the position of Projects Manager to Lesedi Thwala. Thwala says that she is looking forward to working under the SRC towards a better Rhodes University in 2017.

Photo: Moono Chungu