Category: News & Politics

South African black doll breaks the mould in high style

Maite Makgoba, the founder of Childish Trading and Manufacturing (AFP)

She is black and trendy, and young South African girls are learning to love her.

Meet Momppy Mpoppy, who is a step ahead of other black dolls across Africa who are often dressed in traditional ethnic clothes.

Decked out in the latest fashions and sporting an impressive Afro, complete with a tiara, Momppy could play her own small part in changing the way that black children look at themselves.

Maite Makgoba, founder of Childish Trading and Manufacturing, said she started her small business after realising that black dolls available on the market “did not appeal to children”.

“They were frumpy and unattractive, some in traditional attire. That is not the reality of today,” said the 26-year-old entrepreneur.

The dolls are assembled in China, but the real work starts in Makgoba’s tiny workspace in downtown Johannesburg, where they are styled and packaged before they are sent to independent distributors.

Inside the two-room warehouse, miniature pieces of clothing are sewn and pressed by hand. Appearance is everything.

Eye-catching ballerina skirts, denim pants and “on trend” jumpsuits with bright high heels are some of the items in Momppy Mpoppy’s impressive wardrobe.

Among the different Mpoppy outfits are “Denim Dungaree Delicious”, “Rockstar Tutu”, “Mohawk Fro” and “Seshweshwe Fabolous” — with each doll costing R180 rand.

To complete the experience, the company also makes matching clothes for girls who own the doll.

“This is more than just a business, we are creating awareness, that our dark skin and thick Afro hair are pretty as they are,” said Makgoba.

“We want kids to see beauty in Mpoppy, to see themselves while playing with her.

“Dolls are often white, people in magazines are white, even in a country like South Africa where the majority are black.

“Black children are confronted with growing up in a world that does not represent them, everything is skewed towards whiteness.”

Body image
Makgoba admits that the fledging company which she started in 2013 faces a stiff competition from established toy brands, but she was encouraged by the “overwhelming response” from buyers.

“Parents and children have quickly taken to the doll. But we still need to convince large retailers to sell our brand,” she said, declining to reveal exact sales numbers.

Nokuthula Maseko, a 30-year-old mother of two, said her children had “fallen in love with the unusual doll” after she came across it on social media — the company’s biggest marketing tool.

“I like the fact that the doll looks like my kids, in a world where the standards of beauty are often liked to Caucasian features,” said Maseko.

“The kids love the doll.”

“This is a big social movement … it can help prevent body image insecurity among children,” she added.

But the Johannesburg mother said she was not in a hurry to throw away her kid’s white dolls.

“At school they play with their white friends, so this is my idea of maintaining that realism, so that they are aware of different races and not that everything is just white and only looks a certain way,” she said.

Black dolls are not new, but the African market has for a long time been flooded with white dolls, creating an image of porcelain skin perfection with long shiny tresses.

The iconic 57-year-old Barbie range has dominated global sales, selling over one million a week globally — including a selection of black dolls.

It’s a tough challenge to build a brand name for start-up companies like Makgoba’s and others such as Queen of Africa, a popular black doll from Nigeria who is kitted out in ethnic attire.

According to Johannesburg child psychologist Melita Heyns, toys have a long-term influence on children.

“It’s not just entertainment … dolls are a big part of a girl child’s life, it’s important that such toys help build a child’s character and self-esteem,” said Heyns.

Mpoppy’s creators plan to export to neighbouring African countries, changing young mindsets one doll at a time. – By Sibongile Khumalo

9 years ago

Botswanan or Batswana? It’s complicated

Flag of Botswana

I’ve been pondering about the origin and meaning of the two terms, Botswanan and Batswana. How nationals in African countries self-identify and how they identify their fellow citizens can tell us a lot about the level of inclusiveness and nationalism in a country.

According to Oxford and Merriam-Webster dictionaries, the correct English term for nationals from Botswana is Botswanan. Therefore, it’s the preferred term by editors and writers worldwide. The majority of nationals from Botswana prefer the use of the complicated term Batswana. The addition of “Ba” meaning “the people of”, seemingly implies that everyone in Bostwana is Tswana. This makes it a term loaded with problematic histories of colonialism, exclusion and ethnic relations.

Who then, is Botswanan?

Botswana’s political borders were formed under colonial rule, bringing together diverse ethnic groups who comprised Bechuanaland. It was renamed Botswana in 1966 when the country gained independence from Britain. Today, it continues to be a multi-ethnic society.

Its main ethnic groups include the Tswana, Kalanga, Batswapong, Babirwa, Basarwa, Bayei, Hambukushu, Basubia, Baherero and Bakgalagadi people. In addition, there are other minority groups including whites, Indians and immigrants from other African nations.

Colloquially, all these ethnic groups are referred to as Batswana. However, applying the term Batswana to them is misleading.

Who then, is Tswana?

Nearly four million people who identify as Tswana live in southern Africa – one million in Botswana and three million in South Africa. It is used to describe the North Sotho, West Sotho, Sotho, and Pedi ethnic groups who have a similar culture and speak the same language.

The West Sotho Tswanas live in Botswana. They consist of eight ethnic groups and together make up a sizeable amount of the inhabitants, comprising roughly 70% of the population.

Due to their numbers, Tswana language and culture dominates mainstream Botswanan society. They have a distinct culture that is different from the other ethnic groups living in Botswana in terms of social organisations, ceremonies, language and religious beliefs. Therefore, a unifying Tswana culture that distinguishes them exists. Culturally, they are arguably more similar to the Pedi and Sotho in South Africa then they are to some ethnic groups within Botswana. Therefore, the term Batswana can be seen as a reflection of the presence of a dominant Tswana culture in Botswana and not a reflection of the multi-ethnic society Botswana actually is.

Botswana does not constitute a homogenous nation with a single language or culture. Therefore, the term Batswana should not be an umbrella term for all of the people within Botswana’s borders which include non-Tswana groups who have a different culture and may speak their own language. Additionally, anyone speaking the Setswana language should not be considered Batswana because this dominant language needed to function in contemporary Botswana where 26 languages are spoken. Therefore, an ability to speak a language doesn’t make a person the ethnicity of the people from which that language derived. As an example, the ability of the Khoi-San to speak Setswana does not technically make them West Sotho nor Batswana.

Who then, is Basarwa?

The Basarwa, who are commonly known as the Khoi-San or “Bushmen”, are often lumped in to this broad category of Batswana. They are made up of Khoi and San people who are further divided into distinct groups with their own languages and culture. They have long resisted being labelled terms such as “Bushman” and even “Khoi-San”. Calling them Batswana would just be the latest name to be forced on a group that has struggled to maintain their identity and culture.

Their identification has always been problematic. They are thought to be the “original” people of Botswana. The government does not award them (nor any other ethnic group) “indigenous” status though – they maintain that all citizens of the country are indigenous in order to promote a sense of “sameness”. In part, this is an attempt by the government to incorporate them in the dominant culture by promoting a strong sense of national identity and “developing” them to fit in with Batswana people who are considered “modern”. By labelling them Batswana they are forced to identify as such or risk being labelled as “backward” or otherwise “othered”, which marginalises them. In part, it is also an attempt at controlling their resources, culture and land – for tourism and diamonds – under the pretext of homogeneity or “oneness”.

Given the aforementioned relations between the Baswara and the Tswana-speaking groups, calling them “Batswana” when they feel their culture is threatened by them is problematic.

Similarly, other groups in Botswana may feel similar offense when being called Tswana for much less severe reasons such as simply not being Tswana.

Who then, is Batswana?

Simply speaking, the term Batswana is problematic for those ethnic groups such as the Khoi-San with their own cultural, linguistic and genealogical identities.

Botswanans need to be more conscious when they identify everyone from Botswana as Batswana in order to be more inclusive of the minority groups. Such a loose term which is meant to unify people can have the opposite effect by further marginalising minority ethnicities.

Next time someone problematises my use of the term Botswanan, my simple response will be, “What then, are the Basarwa?”

Sitinga Kachipande is a blogger and PhD student in Sociology at Virginia Tech with an African Studies concentration. Her research interests include tourism, development, global political economy, women’s studies, identity and representation. Follow her on Twitter: @MsTingaK

9 years ago

Stubbing it out: Ethiopia implements smoking ban

(Pic: Flickr / Tom Magliery)

The bars and cafes are full and lively in the northern Ethiopian town of Mekelle – but they are no longer smoke-filled, with the strict implementation of a smoking ban in public places.

“It’s a good thing,” said Hiriti, the owner of a small bar in a busy street. “Of course, some customers are not happy, but it also depends on the way you tell them not to smoke.

“I tell them it is not only about the law. It is also about your health,” he said. “They react better if you tell them that way.”

The town of Mekelle is bucking the trend in Africa where tobacco use is increasing driven by companies that see a growing market on the continent amid a tightening of smoking laws elsewhere.

Tobacco consumption in Africa – excluding South Africa – increased by almost 70 percent between 1990 and 2010, according to a study by the American Cancer Society. The number of African smokers could grow by 40 percent by 2030, the study predicted.

Ethiopia is not the first country to impose a ban, but is one of the few to act on the law. Kenya’s capital Nairobi has designated smoking cabins, with smoking on the street illegal, although the rule is widely flouted.

Several African countries have a complete ban on smoking in public – most recently, Uganda passed a law banning smoking within 50 metres of any public place – according to the World Health Organisation (WHO), but such laws are rarely implemented.

Nearly 80 percent of the more than one billion smokers worldwide live in low and middle-income countries, “where the burden of tobacco-related illness and death is heaviest”, according to the WHO, which estimates that 600 000 people die worldwide each year from the effects of second-hand smoke.

‘People really stopped’

In Ethiopia, parliament passed a law banning smoking in public places in 2014 and Mekelle is the first city to implement it.

The town of some 200 000 people is the state capital of the far northern Tigray region. Since January smoking has been banned in cafes, restaurants, schools and hospitals, as well as cultural, sports and religious centres.

Those who break the ban face a fine of 1 000 Ethiopian birr ($50) fine, a small fortune in Ethiopia where salaries rarely exceed $100 a month.

“We hardly see more smokers. People really stopped,” said Teklay Weldemariam, the head of the city’s health department and one of the architects of this law.

“The speed of non-communicable diseases is increasing. Cancer is one of them. So it is high time to ban cigarettes in public areas.”

He hopes Mekelle will be an example to others.

“I know other Ethiopian towns are interested in the experience of Mekelle. This can also inspire other East African cities,” said Teklay.

Some grumble at the ban, frustrated at the restrictions, but others say the law is necessary.

“If you enter a cafe with smokers, you could not say anything because it was part of social life, it was fully accepted. This prohibition is a very good idea,” said John Haile Selassie.

After targeting tobacco, the authorities are also aiming to stamp out khat, a leafy green herb that is mildly narcotic when chewed.

“Consumption is rising and the government wants to do something,” said Teklay. But he recognised the subject is “sensitive” as chewing khat plays a role in some customs and traditions in parts of Ethiopia.

9 years ago

Ebola’s victims of the future: pregnant women

A volunteer in protective suit in the capital Freetown. (Pic: AFP)

For the last 13 years, Sierra Leone has seen a dramatic decrease in its maternal mortality rate, due in large part to the introduction of free health care for pregnant women. One of the most devastating and yet rarely acknowledged impacts of the Ebola epidemic is that it threatens to undo all this good work.

It’s not just the loss of more than 220 health workers, including many midwives, to the virus, with little training or wiggle-room in the fragile health system to replace those skills. It’s also the lingering fear of hospitals and doctors among the local population, which remains traumatised by an outbreak that has claimed almost 4 000 lives and still sees new infections each week, albeit small numbers.

A World Bank report in July – Healthcare Worker Mortality and the Legacy of the Ebola Epidemic – estimated that Sierra Leone’s maternity mortality rate could increase because of the current crisis by 74 percent, to levels not seen since the end of the civil war in 2002.

“During the Ebola outbreak, there were many challenges that we encountered that led to many pregnant women not coming to the hospital and this may have led to the [recent] increase in death rates [among pregnant women],” A.P. Koroma, medical superintendent at the PCMH (Cottage) Hospital in Freetown, told IRIN.

The hospital has lost 85 mothers since the outbreak was first reported in May 2014, which Koroma said is “definitely a sharp increase compared to previous years.”

“People were, and are [still], afraid,” he added.

Before Ebola came, an average of 10 700 women each year gave birth at Cottage Hospital. Since the outbreak, this number has dropped to 6 723.

The most recent maternal mortality rate is not yet available at the national level, but given the hospital attendance records and the risks of at-home childbirth in Sierra Leone, it is expected to rise.

“During the Ebola outbreak, people had the impression that when they come to the hospital, they may be infected,” Koroma explained. “For those coming to the hospital, we did our best… but some of them came to the hospital late because they were told that if you have bleeding, which is one of the symptoms of Ebola, no nurse or doctor will want to touch a patient until an Ebola test is done, which can take up to three days.”

Others, who did come, died while waiting for the Ebola test results.

The hospital now has access to a rapid diagnostic test, which can give results in less than three hours.

Despite this, and better safety measures generally, many hospital staff are still afraid to tend to pregnant women, given the fact that childbirth puts them in direct contact with bodily fluids.

“When we started hearing of our colleagues dying, everybody was afraid and nobody wanted to even touch a patient,” Koroma explained.

But not all women are staying away.

“Some of my friends said that if I came to the hospital I would get Ebola… so I became afraid,” said 22-year-old Mary Conteh, from Freetown, who gave birth earlier this month. “But later I decided to come to Cottage Hospital…. I thank God I had a safe delivery.”

Shortage of health workers

Sierra Leone lost an estimated seven percent of its nurses and midwives to Ebola, according to the World Bank report – a devastating loss for a country that had just over 1 000 to begin with.

“This is just a terrible shock to an already weak healthcare system,” said David Evans, Senior Economist at the World Bank Group. “And if one were to put this [loss of health care workers] into actual numbers, that’s an additional 1,850 women dying per year [in Sierra Leone] just as a result that we’ve lost health care workers due to the Ebola epidemic.”

If Sierra Leone is to prevent its maternal mortality rate rising further, experts say more investment is drastically needed to plug the gap in maternal healthcare.

“In terms of response, it’s not rocket science,” Evans said. “These countries and the international communities supporting them need to hire more health workers and provide resources so they are well paid and want to be in Sierra Leone working there. And, as the Ebola epidemic wanes, as it continues, making sure they have protective equipment.”

In the short-term, to avoid a further increase in maternal mortality, Evans suggested a “stop-gap measure” of employing foreign healthcare workers and birth attendants, allowing local capacity to be built up over the longer term.

Women in Sierra Leone say they are praying for just that.

“All I want is to have a healthy baby,” said 25-year-old Frances Tucker, who is five months pregnant. “I don’t want to have problems like other pregnant women have had by staying at home, afraid of coming to the hospital… putting you and your baby’s life at risk.”

Jennifer Lazuta and John Sahr Sahid for IRIN

9 years ago

Uganda bans repayment of ‘bride price’ after divorce

Uganda’s Supreme Court ruled on Thursday that refunding of goods paid to a bride’s family after divorce was illegal, sparking celebration by rights groups who said women would no longer be “chained in violent relationships”.

In Uganda, as in many nations, the custom of the groom or his family paying a sum of money or property – known as a “bride price” – to the parents of the bride upon a marriage has a long tradition.

Bride prices are payments made from the groom’s family to the bride’s – the opposite of dowries paid in some countries, where the bride hands goods over to the man.

The Supreme Court ruled that refunding it upon dissolution of a customary marriage was unconstitutional, after local women’s rights group Mifumi launched an appeal following an earlier court decision, arguing the practice contributed to domestic violence.

“Refunding compromises the dignity of the woman,” Chief Justice Bart Katureebe said, according to the Daily Monitor newspaper, adding that paying a dowry back implied a woman was in a marriage as though on “loan”.

Mifumi said the judge’s decision was a “landmark in the history of Uganda” that meant women were “now free to walk out of an abusive relationship without fear” of how their family would pay back the bride price.

Mifumi said the payment of a bride price “reduces the status of women to cattle, to property that can be earned and paid for and exchanged for goods.”

The charity, along with 12 other individuals, first launched a 2007 petition at the Constitutional Court, arguing that the refunding of bride price portrayed women “as an article in a market for sale” amounting to “degrading treatment”.

The court however dismissed the petition in 2010, with the group then taking the case to the Supreme Court.