i am almost finished reading ‘Country of my Skull’ by Antjie Krog and it has been punching me relentlessly in the gut.

This passage from chapter 20 titled ‘Mother faces the Nation’ contains one of my particular angry spots when it comes to lazy South Africans:

To the right of the Commissioners, a phalanx of mostly white lawyers – representing victims and perpetrators – is building up. ‘I  represent the family of Lolo Sono,’ says the lawyer, pronouncing it: Loulou Sounou. Tutu, shakes his head: Ló-ló  Só-nó. When the next lawyer talks about Dr Assevat, and another wants to put a question to Mrs Mazikidela-Mandela, the chairman simply throws his hands in the air.

But when the lawyer of the Chili family pronounces the surname like the spice, Tutu stops the proceedings: ‘Ag nee boetie, nou’t eg genoeg gehad [No, man, now I’ve had enough]… it’s x!ili’.

‘I am sorry sir,’ the lawyer says neatly and confidently, ‘it is not possible for me to pronounce that sound.’ 

‘If you take their money, you respect their surname – put your tongue behind your teeth: x!ili.’ 

We all wait in despair – is this the time or the place? But hark! – ‘I represent the …x! …x!-ili family.’

Tutu smiles benevolently.

= = = = = = =

i love this so much, because it is only laziness.

This post, by actress Uzoamaka Aduba, sums it up so well for me, and i get emotional when i read it. Because something as personal and important as someone’s name is also, for the most part, what so many white people have colonised in return for names that are easier for them to say.

Uzoamaka Aduba

If you’re not bothered to even learn people’s names, then you are not interested in reconciliation, growth or diversity in any way that means anything much at all.