It was an incident in a first term Linguistics tutorial that got me up in arms. As all first years do through the entire first term, another first year and I were getting to know each other. I was so pleased to be making a new friend, not that I’d remember her name (it was the first week, where you’re hearing about 20 names a day). However, she was in my tutorial so I’d get to know her eventually. She gently shifted over towards me and kindly asked “What’s your name?” so I replied amicably “Khatija, yours?” well now quite honestly now I wouldn’t be able to pick her out from a bar of soap let alone remember her name as it was so long ago and I also changed tutorials the second week because it clashed with my newly picked up subject, Drama. A few seconds later, looking rather puzzled she shifted over again saying, “What’s your real name?”
To this day, the 4th of October 2008 I still remind myself now and then of her question, what exactly did she mean by this? Was she suggesting that I had made my name up, that this symbol that I had identified myself by for 19 years 1 month and 3 days was some sort of farce. I suppose at this point I should mention that I am a black woman, Zulu in culture and Muslim in religion (and the fact that you can be both) hence the name Khatija. I understand however that not many know the origins of names, neither do I, this was not the problem, what got me fired up was that she expected me to say an African name in order for the name to fit her idea of what qualifies as ‘real-name’ characteristics. Had I told her my African names, Nomathamsanqa and Ntableng she would have been satisfied so I left it at “that is my real name” together with a look of anger, confusion and all moulded in my oval shaped face stemming from the routes of my African and Islamic heritage.
This was the first act of ignorance, many more were to follow. This leads me to the point I want to raise. The main difference I’ve noticed between being at school and university – the ignorance. I can’t say I have a reason or possible theory as to why this is so. Unfortunately though, as I am black myself, it is sad to say that the ignorance is more prevalent amongst black people than white. White people never ask any questions, perhaps it’s because they don’t see me as trying to be a coconut. You see, my hypothesis is that people are so interested in my name because they think I’m trying to be ‘white’ by using Khatija since I do have two other African names. I am Muslim that is what I believe in and what I identify myself as. I didn’t suddenly change, I was born Muslim.
You’ll notice people gazing into the distance, taking the time to think as to how they will approach their next question. Those who make an attempt at being subtle usually start with “Not to be rude but...” or “I hope you don’t mind me asking why...” some people even have the guts to dumb themselves down and say “Does that mean your parents are Indian?” Now I don’t at all claim to be the most well-informed person in the world but...Seriously!
Just some fun facts: there happen to be around five million Muslims in Africa, approximately one million in South Africa; in fact it’s the largest religion in Africa, followed by Christianity. Basically, coming to university is a new experience, we all know that. It makes sense then that people should arrive open-minded, I’m not saying know that Khatija is an Arabic name or that there’re 5 million Muslims in Africa but don’t make stupid comments that make you look like you’ve lived in Mars, isolated from all, ever since you were born.
At first glance, Alexandra Smith looks completely confident and collected. She is sitting at the Kaif, idly sipping on a cool drink and observing the people around her. Her greeting is warm and friendly; one is instantly at ease in her presence. She immediately insists on being called Alex. Alex continues to sip on her cool drink, but is now entirely focused on the task at hand. The conversation is animated and fast, almost as if she has a lot to say but not enough time to get her point across effectively.
Unexpectedly, Alex has dreams of being a relief worker for the United Nations, but her mother told her that it is almost impossible to get anywhere in life without a degree. This is when the idea of coming to Rhodes was established. She has always been interested in politics and the “gross display of human rights violations” she sees regularly. Therefore, being a political journalist was an intriguing notion. She still has her heart set on eventually working for the United Nations, because, as she says, “Once I set my mind on something, I want to do it”. Doing community work at a convalescent hospital in Cape Town (where 90 percent of the children are HIV positive) further convinced Alex that this is something she needs to experience.
It is shocking to realise that Alex was not always as self-assured as she is now. “I’ve had to learn to accept myself,” is one of the first statements she makes. Her greatest difficulty when she first came to Rhodes was trying to find herself and her place in such a diverse community. Coming straight out of an all girls school that she had attended for fifteen years, Alex was not content with herself as being around girls for that period of time meant she was constantly judged. “I thought I never fitted in,” she says, a little sadly. This led to her having quite a problem with her self-image. She was not completely sure about the person she was, and was therefore very concerned about finding people she could relate to. At first, Alex felt a little out of place, as is to be expected when moving into a completely new environment.
Another factor that caused Alex some distress was trying to connect with males, having never studied around them before. As a result, interacting with boys around campus was a bit of a struggle at first. The first boy she really connected with was different to her in every possible way: religiously, culturally and racially. Through him, she learnt how to relate to someone vastly different to herself, and this influenced the way in which she began to associate with other males around her.
With this problem overcome, Alex soon rose above her other problem: her identity. “I thought I was very open-minded when I came here,” she says with a smile. She did not realise that she had created a barrier around herself, because “If you’re closed up, people don’t have the opportunity to hurt you,” she says. She had to learn to be more open with people and their views. In learning to accept herself and learning more about herself, Alex found friends, each of whom has characteristics that she can identify with. She has found her niche at Rhodes and has now learnt to trust people.
Alex is both a hero and a survivor. She has strived hard to triumph over her struggles. This has by no means been an easy task, and there have been many hurdles along the way, hurdles that have both tested and strengthened her. While she is still not completely sure of who she is, Alex has acquired much knowledge in the past eight months. Her perspective is now a much more positive one than the unsure, vulnerable young woman who entered Rhodes University in February.
Unexpectedly, Alex has dreams of being a relief worker for the United Nations, but her mother told her that it is almost impossible to get anywhere in life without a degree. This is when the idea of coming to Rhodes was established. She has always been interested in politics and the “gross display of human rights violations” she sees regularly. Therefore, being a political journalist was an intriguing notion. She still has her heart set on eventually working for the United Nations, because, as she says, “Once I set my mind on something, I want to do it”. Doing community work at a convalescent hospital in Cape Town (where 90 percent of the children are HIV positive) further convinced Alex that this is something she needs to experience.
It is shocking to realise that Alex was not always as self-assured as she is now. “I’ve had to learn to accept myself,” is one of the first statements she makes. Her greatest difficulty when she first came to Rhodes was trying to find herself and her place in such a diverse community. Coming straight out of an all girls school that she had attended for fifteen years, Alex was not content with herself as being around girls for that period of time meant she was constantly judged. “I thought I never fitted in,” she says, a little sadly. This led to her having quite a problem with her self-image. She was not completely sure about the person she was, and was therefore very concerned about finding people she could relate to. At first, Alex felt a little out of place, as is to be expected when moving into a completely new environment.
Another factor that caused Alex some distress was trying to connect with males, having never studied around them before. As a result, interacting with boys around campus was a bit of a struggle at first. The first boy she really connected with was different to her in every possible way: religiously, culturally and racially. Through him, she learnt how to relate to someone vastly different to herself, and this influenced the way in which she began to associate with other males around her.
With this problem overcome, Alex soon rose above her other problem: her identity. “I thought I was very open-minded when I came here,” she says with a smile. She did not realise that she had created a barrier around herself, because “If you’re closed up, people don’t have the opportunity to hurt you,” she says. She had to learn to be more open with people and their views. In learning to accept herself and learning more about herself, Alex found friends, each of whom has characteristics that she can identify with. She has found her niche at Rhodes and has now learnt to trust people.
Alex is both a hero and a survivor. She has strived hard to triumph over her struggles. This has by no means been an easy task, and there have been many hurdles along the way, hurdles that have both tested and strengthened her. While she is still not completely sure of who she is, Alex has acquired much knowledge in the past eight months. Her perspective is now a much more positive one than the unsure, vulnerable young woman who entered Rhodes University in February.
Divania Timmal
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