Buy the Pigment of
Your Imagination

 

 

Zimbabwe
The grey baboons that played near our misnamed “Express Bus” kept me entertained during the tedious task of crossing the Zambia-Zimbabwe border. My father, who had joined me during my last weeks in Kenya, decided to travel with me by road through Tanzania and Zambia on my way to Zimbabwe. The southern African country of Zimbabwe does not require an entry visa but instead conducts elaborate and lengthy border checks. The bus refueled as we waited for our turn to cross into Zimbabwe, and I allowed my mind to wander as I stared at the baboons which had clustered underneath our window.

Each society lives within its own customized racial twilight zone. Am I about to enter another? “Colored” in the United States does not mean the same as “coloured” in Zimbabwe. The archaic American term refers to anyone with African ancestry whereas the modern-day southern African term refers to a category of people with mixed racial heritage, usually of African and European ancestry. In the United States, light- and dark-skinned people of any African ancestry are considered “black” under the one-drop rule. Yet I am sitting on the border of a country where those two groups –“coloured” and “black”– are seen as separate racial entities. Zimbabwe has its own unique one-drop rule – “One drop of white blood makes you coloured.” I have read that 75 to 90% of African-Americans have many “drops” of European ancestry. Would they be considered “coloured” or “black” in Zimbabwe?

Zimbabwe Interviews

If I were to go up on top of a roof and shout, “I’m black, I’m black,” people would look at me and say,“What is wrong with that coloured woman, she has gone mad.” If I said I was white they would say the same thing. “You are coloured.”

The discrimination of races lasted from sunrise until sunset. No white man wanted to see a black woman, but when the sun set at night, the gap narrowed and you could not put a razor blade in between them. As a result, a child is born with a stigma that stinks. You are born with a tag on your face of non entity. The pigmentation that you are carrying is a passport to non-entity so you are a child unwanted.

My father said, “Don’t go play white, you must stay and uplift your community if you can.” I decided to stay on and fight it out. I worked as white for several years because I couldn’t get a job as a coloured. I fraternized with my coloured community at night but, during the day, I was white. This was a job with construction machines. They wouldn’t allow a coloured man to drive earth-moving machines. It was exclusively a white man’s job. The coloured workers would take off their hats to me and say, “Good morning, Mr. Smith” during the day, but then at night we would have drinks in the shebeen [local bar] together. The pay was good so in the evening the beer flowed from my pocket. If I got into an argument, I jokingly told them I would get them tomorrow at work because I was considered their boss. Nobody ever told on me because I didn’t run away from them and they knew that I had to do it for economic reasons. It was in their interest to keep me there. The intention was never to isolate myself from the community.

When I was walking down the street, I would compare myself to coloureds. I would walk and say that I am much better than a black.

When coloured people look at me, they think I am their sister but when I start talking to them, I find we have nothing in common....
We are the same colour, but we have different values.

There is nothing to talk about with families such as ours. We think we are as ordinary a family as any. Inasmuch as it is possible, this is a mixed culture now. My children just have to find their niche and live in this environment or wherever they choose to live. They are lucky to enjoy whatever differences and diversity exists. They have the best of both worlds. I don’t know whether you should treat anyone differently. Everyone should be treated as a person. On forms, they should mark African. If they mark anything, maybe human would be more accurate.

What seems to be your total reality is really just your little corner of reality.