Home Economics: sense on cents

Let me start by stating that the content of your feedback on last week’s article [White Wedding: A Cultural Faux Pas] is appreciated and it prompts me to write a ‘part two’ on the subject and so it shall be in the near future. 

By the way, please note the conversation always carries on via twitter (@masangopm), I encourage you to reach out.

I’ll stay on the home turf today; sharing insights on how understanding the story behind the story always helps us better govern our communities and our countries, of course starting with governing our homes. Yes, everything is personal. And if it never is for you, then you might be on the wrong planet.

In her early days as a published writer, world-renowned Nigerian author, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, reminded us of the dangers of a single story. Underline dangers and keep this word in mind as you continue to read. 

The single story is just that; having a one dimensional outlook to any situation and this can negatively affect even our basic home economics.

So, there’s this morning habit that I have; where I look at myself in the mirror as I dash off to the office, I scrutinize what I’m wearing. 

I can’t recall making a conscious decision to get into this habit but I recall it began way before I started reading Chimamanda’s work, when I was a student in Johannesburg around 2004.

I’m guessing it was home sickness that got it started because at the time, I had few clothes and a chunk of them were tailor made for me by Swazi designer Lungile Mbhamali and bought from Played Out, a trendy clothing shop in Manzini owned by Mlungisi Zwane (may his soul rest in peace). 

At the time I had a deeply romantic relationship with Swaziland and ALL its people and so seeing myself draped in Swazi robes was one way in which I kept the flames of this long-distance relationship alive.

What’s Your [Hi]Story?

Fast forward to 2016 and I come across a Facebook friend’s status update stating that in 2016, his wish is that Swaziland’s working women stop buying clothes from the [in]famous “Bend Pick” and rather spend our hard-earned buck in more established retail stores. 

I’m sure by now you’ve figured out that I keep my romantic relationship with Swaziland going through social media – moving with the times you know.

Anyway, for those who may not know, “Bend n Pick” was coined to describe exactly what one does when shopping for clothes from the so-called informal traders at Manzini, S’teki and other towns across the country. 

Johannesburg’s one is more like “Push n’ Pick”, it gets messy! So another thing you should have picked up by now is that I shop from these informal traders.

So of course I responded to his Facebook post. I wasn’t sure whether he was joking or serious, so I left a mild comment on his post. 

However, in the spirit of the ladies and one man who responded to him with the seriousness that we should all have responded to him in, I felt the need to address his opinion here on Opinionated. And we’ll pretend it’s not a man who just told women what to do with their income.

I spent the past week with a bunch of amazing people I was meeting for the first time and they made a habit of complimenting me on my so-called African print clothing and how the way I wear it has taught them something about how they can wear theirs outside of so-called ‘traditional weddings’. 

So they enquired about my tailor and I was happy to share Chris’ contact details along with a brief history about where he comes from – the Democratic Republic of Congo. That got everyone talking [read: bragging] about their Nigerian and Jamaican tailors and Swazi hairstylists.

Someone else liked a particular pair of high heels I was wearing and story-teller me told them I paid only ZAR50.00 for them when one of the lady cleaners at work came selling. 

Mind you, when I bought them, I wasn’t really into high heels but I bought them to support her entrepreneurial initiative and to keep my dream of wearing high heels alive.

Make Sense and Cents

My siblings and I grew up wearing hand-me-downs because my father didn’t buy us clothes that were not school uniform. 

I mean, anyone with 22 children wouldn’t prioritize ‘timphahla tekuhamba’, especially if their first rule as a parent is ‘you’re not going anywhere but home’ – school days or school holidays, you’re home to help with the cotton-picking and weeding.

On the other hand, my uncle’s wife sold second-hand clothes to supplement their household income because my cousins, who I studied with at Majombe primary and Sisekelo high schools, needed pocket money and stuff for our compulsory school trips. She would also share her surplus clothes with us.

So my love for ‘vintage’ is not just about the great quality clothes I find at Bend n Pick but it is also in respect and understanding the basic home economics at play - looking beyond the one story of just a woman selling pre-owned clothes.

My morning habit, although born out of homesickness, also speaks to my love for story-telling and over the years has sparked other loves like travelling which have led me to my love for my people of Africa and in turn people of the world. You see where this is going, right?

If we could strive to be conscious to the fact that by buying veggies at the market instead of a retail store, we are supporting a dream and a daily struggle to keep hope alive, we would move beyond our growing and dangerous culture of individualism.

That way, we would also make it our responsibility to support each even through collective struggles like demanding better pay and working conditions at the workplace for instance. Home economics should always make sense and cents.