Simply Philile

Dear Diary I, Philile Masango, daughter of a farmer and umgcugcuteli (rural health motivator), live in truly interesting and exciting times. I have lived to experience firsthand what Charles Dickens meant when he said ‘it was the best of times; it was the worst of times’. As expected my previous blog narrating my life story and addressing the state of affairs in Swaziland has generated massive feedback, flak and dialogue, thanks to the Times of Swaziland newspaper for publishing my written thoughts albeit partially, and sensationalized. The feedback of sorts shows I’m on course with what I sought to do - which is, starting a conversation amongst ourselves as Swazis about our socio-political and economic situation and consequently spring us into taking action. In fact, for me, having a conversation is big enough action for a nation that is hardly participatory. Obviously, as I pointed out in my previous article, part of this new conversation was inevitably going to be laden ...

This past December I laughed so hard just seconds after my long-time girlfriend had hopped into the car. I’d picked her up for lunch on one gloomy overcast afternoon in the capital Mbabane. She’s always cracked me up.  This time I had irritably remarked, “I can’t wait to get back to Jo’burg, this weather sucks just like this pothole-riddled street I’m driving on”. My remark was met half-way by a sharp “Aw’seyekele wena ntfombi yakuMatsetsa…yimihlolo yetfu” (meaning “Oh please! A girl from Matsetsa now knows things suck?”).  That’s when I just burst into fits of laughter as she went on… “It’s the same with your facebook statuses, you are practically unhappy and critical about everything here, if it’s not the weather it’s the roads or the cabinet ministers or the Church, the police or the pubs…I mean what was that you wrote the other day ‘I've arrived in the (Swazi)land of Sex, Alcohol and Jesus. In that (dis)order thank you #KnowYourCountry’? What was that huh? Her s...

December 3, is International Disability day. This year, more than ever, this day has actually stayed in my heart and I wonder how many of us know about this day that celebrates our brothers and sisters with disabilites.  For me this day, particularly this year, reminded my of a good friend and brother, Joshua Simelane and so I decided to share this article I wrote about him in April 2005, the first time we spent time together. I hope his story inspires you as much as it inspired my life. Joshua's Story Although it is nestled behind tall trees in a small valley, finding Joshua Simelane’s home in hilly rural Maliyaduma wasn’t difficult at all.  Much to my disbelief and shock, he had indeed accurately narrated the directions to me; “From the main road, drive about two to three kilometers past two gorges and then past Maliyaduma Primary School, shortly thereafter you will see a small grocery store and right there you can ask anyone where Joshua Simelane’s home is and ...

A few weeks ago, my friend and I were chatting, as usual, about our relevance in the world - our individual purposes other than self-preservation. Our chat brought us to Black Consciousness where he said, “ Is Black Consciousness dead? My friends are just all about sex drugs and rock 'n roll... maybe you should write something around this topic to probe some of the questions about our role as young Africans”.   He threw this in as we parted ways and it left me really wondering. Me? Write about Black Consciousness? What do I know about Black Consciousness? Well I’ve always known that it’s associated with; the late and legendary Steve Biko of “Black man you’re on your own” and “I write what I like” fame, early days of Drum Magazine, Sophiatown, renowned   Apartheid-era journalist Can Themba – basically about taking pride in being black.   Of course I know what the Black Consciousness movement advocated for but how do I relate to it, if at all? ‘Cause I’m not gonna lie (as ...