Invigorating memoir provides PAC perspective

THANKS to NB Publishers, keen readers interested in South Africa’s “Social History”, are in for a treat from a new book about the life-story of Jaki Stone Seroke, entitled Zwelethu – Our Land.

Explicably, Zwelethu was Seroke’s nickname, inspired from his affiliation to the Pan African Congress (PAC) of Azania’s “rallying open palm salute” Izwe lethu. He is among the hordes of obscure and avant garde “black” South African activists or Sons of the Soil subscribing to the motto of Serve, Suffer and Sacrifice.

In their parlance within PAC, their reference to Azania is their adopted name for South Africa.

Seroke’s book is invigorating, as it successfully foregrounds details about him and other activists whose diverse contributions remain less known apropos South Africa’s socio-political struggles.

The latter is significant given that from 1994, it may be argued that unbecoming hegemonic accounts about South Africa’s history are commonly derived from the lives of socio-political activists, across the colour-line, who are chiefly affiliated to the governing political party, the ANC.

The aforesaid has problematically contributed towards biased versions of South Africa’s history. Notably, Seroke opted to present his life-story, as A Memoir. The latter decision is instructive as some readers may struggle to distinguish the chronicles in this book from those of an autobiography.

My impression is that a “memoir” suited Seroke’s writing style as his elegiac narration travels back and forth in a deliberate and conversational tone, from his birth until his partaking at the Conference of Democratic South Africa (Codesa). Seroke palpably did not worry about adhering to a rigid chronological time line, merely congested with taciturn facts.

My assumed zest about this book may perhaps be justified once considering how Seroke, as a veteran of the PAC (since the late 1970s while residing in Alexandra and later in Moteong, Tembisa) has authored his life-story as one among the plethora of unsung local South African political protagonists who fought against what in their PAC jargon continually classify as “settler colonialism”.

Since the advent of the PAC in 1959, under the intellectually sharp presidency of Robert Sobukwe, Pan-Africanists have always been consistent that they were organised to annul the incongruous agenda of “settler colonisers” who sought to legalise their countless acts of inhumane criminality, flagrantly intended to subjugate Africans, ironically sited in their native land.

Once prospective readers grasp Mr Seroke’s unflinching devotion to the PAC’s ideals throughout his lifespan, then it may be unnecessary to advise that they should brace themselves for mostly his subjective Pan-African laden perspectives.

As a seasoned man of letters in his own right, Seroke crisply articulates the latter, from Chapters 4 to 18.

In his memoir Seroke invites readers into ontological experiences that make up his life-story. The latter commences from his birth on February 24, 1960 (page 19), within the grime of Alexandra township or tounship (page 32) and ending some time in 1994 at the dawn of the democratic dispensation, which demanded a new preoccupation beyond politics (he opted for the corporate sector).

This memoir can be divided into two main segments. The first segment covers Seroke’s childhood until his late teenage years. The latter features, Chapters 1 to 6 (I did not grasp why most chapters did not exceed 10 pages, yet the latter alone consisted of 20 pages, making it the longest chapter in the book).

Anyway, the second segment addresses Seroke’s advancement into politics, until what he colloquially refers to as his reluctant partaking in “talks about talks with the regime's representatives” (page 189).

Both segments make for captivating reading. However, at various parts of numerous chapters, I had to ponder about some critical points. My contemplation included: a) Seroke’s intimate proximity to his maternal family, is thoroughly pointed out from the first chapter, however it is ambiguous what dilemma he had with his paternal side, especially with his father; b) Was it intentional that key concepts such as Zwelethu, Azania, Son of the Soil, are mentioned in passing (Izwe lethu is conspicuously not even mentioned at all); c) Perplexingly Seroke neglects to specify when he joined the PAC; alas, d) Seroke lists five girlfriends when discussing his romantic life, subsequently marrying the fifth girlfriend and were blessed with two kids.

Due to the volatility of his family life the reader is nonetheless left guessing whether this status quo has not altered.

Lastly, I opine that scholarly readers may have expected an Index. With the latter notwithstanding, the following pedagogic points stood out: a) this book makes a worthy contribution to the discourse of South Africa’s history, with a refreshing perspective from a Pan-Africanist lens; b) this book contributes to the less known critical pages, in the discourse of South Africa’s politics; c) this book impressively contributes towards the knowledge about South Africa’s pioneering literati, spanning miscellaneous local authors and artists lost under the discourse of “African literature” and “African Philosophy”.

The overall feat achieved through Seroke’s book is that its narration derived from his ontological experiences both challenges and transcends “social historical” contents, captured by traditionally “conservative” and “liberal” historians in mainstream academia and beyond.

Perspectives of the latter, have to some degree been continued, even by “black” South Africans who may uproariously deny that they are also culprits of the two aforesaid categories. Provision of specified evidence to support the latter claim is acknowledged as important. Hwever such details are superfluous within this pithy book review.

For those insisting however to purge the authenticity of the latter claim, they are advised to survey, amongst others, a sample of prescribed textbooks on “South Africa’s History”, both authored prior to 1994 and those authored post-1994.

Finally as a seasoned “man of letters”, evident from his track record as a past editor, essayist and poet amongst others at Ravan Press and Skotaville Publishers, fellow readers may (like me) ponder, how come Seroke’s memoir is his only book!