When a child is born into an ethnic group, it is anticipated for that child to practice the same things that they are exposed to within that particular group. For example, following same religion, beliefs, and “norms”. Being born into the Pedi culture has somewhat shaped the type of individual I panned out to be. My elders are my main source of knowledge about my culture. There are numerous teachings I have received but two in particular stand out.

Acknowledging God as well as my ancestors.

Growing up I was never exposed to anything either than Christianity and African spirituality. Therefore, that is the route I took throughout my life up until now. My mother would always stress the importance of having God in our lives, understanding the power of prayer as well as inviting him in every journey we choose to embark on. She had a rule about not wanting to go to church. She would lock the house and leave you outside for the duration of the service, and you’d only be allowed access into the house once everyone was back from church. To avoid being locked out, I would make it a point to wake up every Sunday and go to church. I have the freedom now, but still feel the need to obey her. Through these teachings I now understand how crucial it is to pray before doing anything, be it prior to taking an examination, a meal or sleeping. My ethnic group takes pride in acknowledging ancestors. It is believed that your ancestors are your guardian angels that serve as intermediaries between yourself and God. It is also believed that they offer protection, stability, and a lot more, therefore if you fail to do right by them or turn your back on them then they will leave you to suffer. I have come to understand that it not about praising them but merely about acknowledging and respecting them. I now know that I need to consult “phahla” and thank my ancestors when they have done good for me.

Respect and submission.

In the Pedi culture it is believed that a woman kneel down when serving her husband as a sign of respect and submission. Before my father can have a meal, my mother prepares warm water with soap in a small basin and a dry dishcloth for him to wash and dry his hands. She then dishes up and places the food on a tray with all the necessary cutlery then gives my father his food, of course not forgetting to go down on both her knees to show her husband that she respects him. Having grown up in that kind of setting has now taught me to serve my father with respect whenever my mom is unavailable. As much as my father and I have a playful and fun father and daughter relationship, I am still expected to go on my knees when offering him a small basin with water to wash his hands prior to eating.

My Social Networks.

I believe that in order for us to survive we need people around us. We need support structures to get us through life. I have several networks in my life and to simply put it if I were to describe my networks, I would compare them to an onion. Many layers, but each has a significant role. Starting from the core of the vegetable. I would consider this to be my kinship relationships, which are my “blood relationships”. They begin all the way from my mother to my little brother. Those would be the people that are closest to me. This includes my immediate and some of my extended family and friends. These are the people I consider to be my support system, the people that would not mind crossing bridges for me. As I have explained that every layer has a significant role, my family and friends also have different roles and I also have a certain role in their life, for example, my mother. She takes on the role of ensuring that I am well taken care of. She ensures that my fees for school are on par, I have all that I need for school, I am well fed and that I have toiletries. In that sense my mother provides emotional and financial support. My friends are also there to ensure that I am on the right track. I also have a significant role in their lives and that is to also provide emotional support.

 Outside the core is the next layer. This layer consists of my extended family. We don’t keep in touch as much, but we acknowledge one others presence in our lives. There is some form of financial and emotional support, however it is not as visible.

On the next layer you get my community, church mates, hockey teammates acquaintances and my roommate. These are the people that I have met on my journey of being a first-year student. I only know bits and pieces about them. I cannot really depend much on them, as we have only recently met, we do however play vital roles in one another’s lives.  For example, my acquaintances from school. We assist one another with school related things such as helping each other understand assignments, reminding one another of upcoming quizzes or tests and any other relevant information that should be known.

On the last layer of the onion are my lecturers, peer helpers and SIs. These are individuals I do not get to see on a daily basis but play an important role in my “Varsity life”. Most of the time I only get to see them only two times or sometimes once a week. They also have a significant role which is ensuring that I am educated, equipped with all the necessary tools to be able to do well in my respective modules and they prepare me for varsity life.

With all the layers of my onion that have been explained, I can attest to the fact that we do indeed social networks to get through life because I can’t begin to imagine how my life would’ve panned out if I didn’t have any kinship relationships, or lecturers to give me education. If anything, I feel like I would’ve been lost.

It all starts with birds chirping happily outside, flying freely, and trying to catch the fattest worms. I rise from my bed and lean on the headboard to take time to think about what awaits me, a family excursion. I couldn't sleep a wink last night due to the excitement. The sun is already shining and the light from the sun is fighting to make its entrance inside my match box room. I gradually slide off the bed and walk towards the curtain. I draw the curtains open, and the sun instantly invades my eyes, compelling me to shut them close. I wipe the sleep off my eyes and turn away to begin preparing for the day. Once we're all done, we gather in the dining room area by the wooden dining table, excitement is protruding on everyone's faces... except for my father of course, the man's face is as neutral as a gear.

We start loading all the necessities in the van and hit the road soon after that.  As per usual tons is fun is had on the road. Golden Oldies are blasting through the speakers, we are singing along and butchering the lyrics here and there. We stopped for a not so quick bathroom break at the petrol station. I roll down my window and the smell of freshly baked pies invites itself into the car. I close my eyes for a moment to savor the awesome smell, but that is cut short as the petrol smell and the freshly baked pies one battle against each other. My dad exits the car and my mother storms to the gas station shop to avoid having to go in there with us, because she knows that we'll want to purchase every item there in there. As we are waiting, my siblings start biting each other's heads off because the other is selfish with the tablet. Sigh, now I need to take on my mother's role and start with the reprimanding. These two rascals will be the death of me. My mom and dad eventually return, and my mom hands reaches her hand out to hand us our goodies. The Coke is the only thing that has my attention in the plastic. I take it out and it’s as cold as a man’s heart. I twist the cap open and draw the bottle towards my lips. I take a gulp, the liquid slides down my throat and the acid instantly burns my throat, but at least I quenched my thirst.

The wheels hit the tar and we eventually reached our destination (Happy Island Water World). I’m feeling a bit anxious, because it only hit me now that I can’t swim. I’ll probably look like a fish on dry land. We prepare for the water, and I slowly make my way inside the ice-cold water. The pungent smell of chlorine is wafting in the air. I decide to lift my feet off the ground and unfortunately slip and fall in the water. Water quickly fills my nostrils and I panic, but within a matter of time I can feel my body being pulled out of the pool.

My mom comes running and panting as if she had been running in a marathon. Panic written all over her face. She orders my siblings to get out of the pool and asks mt father to take us home. The mood in the car is rather somber and damp. As soon we get home, I rush to my room and immediately doze off the minute my head hits my fluffy pillow.

Do stereotypes shape or our perceptions as individuals? Most definitely! I can attest to this because I have witnessed that though myself.

In an essay titled: “How to write about Africa” the writer, Wainina (2019), expresses his exasperation for stereotypes made about the African continent such as: Africa being characterized as being “dark”, Africans suffering from undernutrition and Africans living in poor conditions. Growing up I used to have a negative perception about my own continent. I used to think that we lack resources, we were suffering and that we were the only continent that consisted of people that were suffering from kwashiorkor, but studies have proven this to be false. This serves as proof that there is danger in a single narrative and that stereotypes do indeed shape our perceptions, hence majority of Americans in this day and age still believe that we keep wild animals as pets or better yet we still run around with spears hunting for food. (I find that absurd to say the least)

Being an individual that was born and bred in the township that is predominantly black people, I unfortunately had (emphasis on the word “had”) stereotypes about children that went to public schools in the township. I thought that if they went to schools in the township, received lessons in their mother tongue and didn’t have “white” educators then they aren’t able to comprehend nor express themselves in English. My entire perspective changed when I got to university and met people from all walks of life and this created a sense of otherness.

The writings of Wainana (2019), have taught me not to make assumptions about other individuals if I don’t even know them from a bar of soap.