Who is afraid of Black Men?

I HAD a conversation with a friend - a black man, to be precise - the other day. We spoke about the South African Police Service (SAPS) and the annual crime statistics that were released recently.

The talk also covered the growing fear of violence on around the country, especially by women and white people.

His reply was startling.
“What is the face of your fear? Who is the danger to you?” he asked. “Obviously it’s me …a Black man and that for me is a problem.”

My response was: “No, I don’t fear you but the threat of violence!”

Further thinking made me see. The black man is the threat, and we all fear him. When we think of crime, we don’t see a white guy.

Let’s all admit it, we have all held our bags a little bit closer when walking in some places that are not usually safe and when a black man approaches.

Never had I thought of my laments for my country’s sad state had direct implication and posed an accusation on my own brothers. This made realise, my own 17 year old brother is the face of a rapist. Why? Because he is black.

He doesn’t wear a pinstriped suit and, yes, he wears a spoti and All Stars takkies and he talks his broken Mandoza-ghetto English and he does not walk like any BEE guy. When he walks down the street towards me I fear and pray he does not look at me for too long.

Another black brother was telling how, when he travels at night, and sees another black guy, he suspects he might be the victim of a mugging. He believes the other black guys thinks the same of him.

This can be a wide generalisation. But the recent statistics may have exaggerated our fears. No-one is denying the fact that real danger does exists, but what I see is that my brothers are the threat and that hurts a lot.

In a country like South Africa that was constructed in terms of race it is undeniable that it is possible that we think in colour. We cannot run away from that.

I may be mistaken, but fearful white and black people have created this monster that lives and walks with us. Yes, we all have horror stories of being mugged, burgled or hijacked. By no means am I nullifying our experiences.

But, in the words of Archbishop Desmond Tutu when delivering the Steve Biko memorial lecture at the University of Cape Town, “perhaps we didn't realise just how apartheid damaged us so that we seem to have lost our sense of right and wrong”.

We have created a normal South Africa that is not normal. For those who can afford it, there are high walls and electrified fences around their properties. Alarm systems and armed-response teams provide even greater protection against the criminals.

As for the rest who are most affected by crime, they have only the police, whom no-one trust anymore.

Vuyo Mvoko remarks in a weekend article that “crime is a vicious cycle in which each one of us has a role to play”.

Do we blame the police on failure to protect us, do we call and name the criminals savages that are just inhumane? What does it all mean?

“Bring back the death penalty,” some say.

We are all responsible for the increase in crime and the fear of crime. The primary causes of crime are poverty and joblessness. This robs people of their dignity and humanity.

As the Arch said, we need “a South Africa where everyone respects themselves has a positive self image filled with a proper self esteem and holds others in high regard”.

2006