Activist-poet sadly forgotten
- William Gumede
Zorro Ramovha warned about post the danger of liberation movement leaders once they have control.
The activist-poet Munzhedzi Frederick “Zorro” Ramovha who warned before the African National Congress came to power of the danger of liberation movement leaders once in control of government backslide, enrich themselves and neglect the needs of ordinary people who voted them into power, has now sadly been largely forgotten.
Ramovha, who in the post-apartheid-era practiced as a lawyer, as a political active youth, went into exile Zambia and Zimbabwe in the 1980s, where he saw first-hand how liberation and independence movements, Zimbabwe’s Zanu-PF and Zambia’s United National Independence Party, in government turned corrupt, incompetent and repressive.
In exile he joined the ANC’s armed wing, Umkhonto weSizwe, and was involved in the anti-apartheid writers circles, mainly in the Congress of South African Writers (COSAW). Ramovha, an old university friend, passed away in November 2011 after a long illness.
He came back from exile after the unbanning of South African liberation movements in 1990 to study law at the University of the Western Cape. After completing legal education at UWC, he worked as a public prosecutor in the Northern Cape, before returning to his home region in Venda in the Limpopo, to practice law.
His poem, “soul raid” is about how new-found power corrupt former liberation movement leaders. An extract of the poem “soul raid” reads: … “all hypocrites are right” … “the spirit of Judas seems to reign supreme, pushing honourable man’s dishonesty to the extreme” ... “silence plod my conscience like a soldier’s boot and alone I sit and vainly brood … ".
He warns that when citizens give liberation movement governments unchecked power, without holding them accountable, repeatedly supporting such leaders based on the leaders’ and the liberation parties’ past ‘struggle’ records, these parties and leaders will behave as ‘God’, above the law, without morals, with unchecked violence, safe in the knowledge their supporters will continue to vote them back into power, no matter their failures.
Former ANC and South African President Jacob Zuma encapsulated this liberation movement leader arrogance when he said that “the ANC will rule until the second coming of Jesus”, whether they deliver or not.
Ramovha describes in his poem how such unchecked power, which he calls a “poisonous pill”, given to liberation leaders by their supporters destroys the moral “soul” of the liberation movement. In the poem “soul raid” he writes: “beware! This is a soul raid aimed at destroying beyond repair …”.
Ramovha a supporter of the ANC feared when the masses who support the ANC finally experience the “moment of truth” of ANC leaders’ corruption, moral decline and blame-shifting.
In his poem “moment of truth”, he writes: “when the moment of truth comes I shall hide away from this cruel reality, in a bid to distance myself” … “when the moment of truth comes, my life may lose all purpose of existence”.
At UWC, he was largely known for his poem “oh african child”, which he recited at many political rallies. The poem summed up the hope of a future better life for many black South Africans then, with the collapse of apartheid for the first time looking like a reality.
In ‘oh african child’, Ramovha writes: “daily you dream about that day, the day that you will mourn no more” …” the day justice will replace injustice” … “oh african child”.
[Recordings of Ramovha’s reciting of “oh african child” is held at the Mayibuye Centre, University of the Western Cape Archives) (https://mayibuye.robben-island.org.za/.../Sound-and-Oral...)].
Born in 1955, in Tsianda village, in rural Vhembe, he matriculated from Dimani High School, in Thohoyandou, in the old Venda homeland. He initially registered for a law degree at the University of Venda but left to go into political exile.
When he turned up at UWC post-exile, with a bursary from the ANC, he was much older than all of us fresh from high school. For me, he was a wonderful example of someone who grasp the opportunity of late-life academic education.
He threw himself with almost childish excitement into student activism. He was a member of the editorial collective of the Student Voice of the award-winning student community newspaper, of which I was editor at the time. He was active in the South African Students’ Press Union (SASPU) and the South African National Students Congress (SANSCO) and was a leading member of the UWC Creative Arts Society at the time.
He was humble. Although he had a very serious, almost distant, solitary demeanour. He could see deeply, beyond the superficial reality, appearances and rhetoric. He was a keen observer of people, and could spot political opportunists from a distance, behind their slogans, struggle songs and toyi-toying.
Yet, he had a great sense of humour.
‘Younger’ fellow Student Voice editorial collective members Julian Jacobs, now teaching journalism at Rhodes University, the late Chris Matlhako, later deputy general secretary of the South African Communist Party, and Ingrid Masondo, later an award-winning photographer and curator, and Rene Lewis, the gender activist, and at the time also a member of UWC’s Kopanong black feminist collective, would often playfully tease him. He laughed easily.
He would often, beer in hand, spontaneously recite poetry, more often than not ‘oh african child’, with deep emotion, at Student Voice newspaper production evenings, which at the time was done in the old-style fashion, setting, laying out, pasting the paper, and debating headlines, front covers and where to place photos, in the Student Voice offices in the basement of the UWC student union.
I still have a vivid memory of him sitting pensively, beer-in-hand, with Jimmy Hendrix playing in the background, at Ruby in the Dust in Observatory, Cape Town, then an eclectic alternative music spot for progressive youth, to which I dragged him to for a Student Voice post-production drink.
He rarely did small talk. He was soft-spoken. One often had to lean-in, when he talked. He would, in his slow, halting manner, full of hand gestures, way of story-telling, recite an anecdote about life as an exile in African countries.
His conversation phrases often came out like the reciting of poems. He loved the metaphor, and the parable, and it took some listeners a while, to get the meaning of what he was saying.
One of Zorro’s poems is called “what a confused world”: … “nothing is accepted in good spirit if it bears all the qualities of nothing” … “for nothing in something, gives not nothing nor something”.
His poem “song of hope” is a call for never giving up hope no matter how dire the circumstances. “We shall sing this song of hope … when poets start singing killer songs” … “when this tortuous pain invades my mind, harsh memories coming down like hail” … “this song will be my soul’s antibiotic” …
A tall, wiry individual, built like a long-distance runner.
On campus, his old motor-cycle, I used to call it his "bromponie", was his prize-possession, and he had an old-style helmet. He appeared inseparable from his motor-cycle.
Ramovha remained a strong proponent of racial reconciliation, cautioning that many opportunists, populists and hard-liners among both blacks and whites are deliberately weaponizing racial differences for personal and political benefit, or plain racism, ethnic nationalism and tribalism.
In his poem “wait not till dusk” he writes “brave cowards fear their own shadows”. He acknowledges that “my quest for reconciliation was tested and tried”, but then continues: “but still, my heart is free of hate”.
He narrowly missed out being the ‘imbongi’, traditional Nguni praise singer, at the inauguration of Nelson Mandela as South African President after the first all-race democratic elections in 1994. He was deeply disappointed.
His fellow UWC Creative Arts Society member, the younger Zolani Mkiva, was appointed to be the traditional praise-singer at the inauguration - and did an excellent rendition. I wrote the references for both.
In 1994, he co-authored a poetry volume, “The Labour-Pains and Joy”, (UWC Press) with fellow UWC Creative Arts Society poets, Petros Tserere and Leviticus Mendlula (both former Student Voice members), Mark Botha, Looks Matoto, and Kaya Somgqeza.
Ramovha had an apocalyptic vision for South Africa’s future under an ANC continuing to fail in power because of corrupt, incompetent and morally deprived leaders, but its supporters continuously supporting the party based on the ANC and its leaders’ past ‘struggle’ record.
In his poem “just now”, he writes: “just now I shall lie down and sleep eternally” … “just now I shall close my eyes after a fruitless strenuous search of a future of darkness that holds for my soul nothing but tantalising dreams”.
Professor William Gumede was Editor of Student Voice, the student community newspaper, and former Head of the South African Students’ Newsagency (Sasnews), and author of Restless Nation: Making Sense of Troubled Times (Tafelberg).
He is Visiting Associate Professor, School of Governance, University of the Witwatersrand.