Vuyisile Msila
Grieving after the death of his wife Elizabeth Donkin, Rufane Shaw Donkin, the acting Governor of the Cape Colony, named the present day Gqeberha, Port Elizabeth. The name has stuck since the 1820s.
The academic giant Ali Mazrui spoke about the need for intellectuals to move for social transformation as we end the hiatus between knowledge and power.
During the present times, the intellectuals grapple with themes such as decolonisation and transformation of society, which are crucial for our well-being and future.
In addition, if we think of our communities as communities of knowledge, we should take it as our responsibility to understand our road to total freedom, especially freedom of the mind.
The time for people to examine their identity and history has come and we are at the crossroads.
Unfortunately, the decades of debates on decolonisation and Africanisation appear to have come to nought, at least for some people who would rather glorify the empire and be dismissive about meaningful name changes in the African society.
I hear many saying that name changes would not put food on the table of the indigent.
How convenient, how patronising! The struggle is one and the struggle for the liberation of society is broad.
The changing of names goes a long way in bringing intellectual capital that would enhance our sense of being human.
When one is in Africa and lives in King William’s Town situated in Kaffraria, one knows that they do not belong, they have been dehumanised.
The African Renaissance is so close, yet so far. Now, various people would rather have the place called iBhayi, a name first derived from the Portuguese who named it Bahia de Lagoa.
Certainly, this does not mean that the amaXhosa, the San and the Khoi who lived at these shores did not have names for this area.
In fact, the names of the Khoisan languages remain in other places for all to know that there were people here long before the coloniser.
Houteniqua, Attaquas, Gariep and Namaqua are all indications that the inhabitants had names for their surroundings.
Therefore, we should not be mystified by the name Gqeberha that originates from the name !Gaibexa, a Gona name for the Baakens River in Gqeberha City.
Following the social media debates, I see people are irritated by the click sound of the city, and even those who are supposed to be guardians of the language seem to be offended by the click and several proclaim that Gqeberha sounds like a rural area somewhere.
They do not care about the history that the place was named after Rufane’s wife when there were countless other women of stature in the Cape Colony.
During this time, the War of Makhanda or fifth frontier war between the amaXhosa and the British was on.
There would have been several
Khoi and Xhosa leaders who would have lost their beloved. Maqoma, that great warrior of the sixth frontier war, had wives too.
Furthermore, it is disrespectful to the Gonaqua (Khoi) people and the amaXhosa whose ancestors travelled the length and breadth of the present day Gqeberha.
Countless of the Khoisan descendants intermarried amongst amaXhosa but their heritage is still evident in names such as Kouga River, Gamtoos (a river that became an eastern border), Karoo, Tsitsikama and Kamdeboo.
This is evidence of the legacy left by the Khoi.
We should be ashamed that the history of the Khoi and the San has dwindled over the years. We should also be troubled that there are only a few speakers of the Khoisan languages.
We should celebrate UCT’s initiative of introducing the Khoekhoegowab, an indigenous Khoisan language, to its language courses. The Minister of Arts and Culture should be applauded for his courage to adhere to the decolonisation programme.
In fact, numerous people engage with the change of names at a very superficial level, not understanding its role in the decolonisation of the mind.
One senses that people have a fatigue on decolonisation debates and think that all has been exhausted, yet the reality is that we have only scratched the surface.
There are several aspects of decolonisation that we have not really tackled and these include culture, history, knowledge and language.
Colonialism was superb in decimating these and made people believe that the indigenous ways and names are backward. Such is the sadness when one hears the current opposition to the Gqeberha name.
Many do not realise this is still a fight for social justice.
Secondly, people are losing an opportunity to respond to pan-African debates on the African identity, Africa and her people.
The pan-African goals from the 1900s emphasised the worth of African people whose identity was battered by colonialism.
Du Bois, the father of pan-Africanism, called for the restoration of culture among the enslaved people.
People appear not to appreciate the bigger debate as they dismiss the Gqeberha name and what we miss is that all this is about building a positive history.
For example, it is irresponsible for a top official of the Gqeberha metro to state that Gqeberha does not originate from amaXhosa.
He may be right, but the paradox is that the interpretation after this supposition is rather twisted and it is clear that he does not know much about the history of the area.
Steve Biko, the Black Consciousness leader, spoke of a need to build a positive history: “A people without a positive history is like a vehicle without an engine.” Relevant name changes are about that positive history.
Unfortunately, we have in our midst many Ferraris with no engines.
Relevant name changes respond to the decades of calls of African leaders.
All other shallow things such as difficulty in pronouncing these words are much more insignificant than building a new nationalism based on African-centredness rather than the empire.
Robert Sobukwe said there was a need for development of African nationalism that would unite all and this includes culture.
The southern part of the country has a rich history of the San, the Khoi and the amaXhosa and this needs to be reflected in many ways, hence even the name of the airport in Gqeberha is so relevant.
The Khoi leader Dawid Stuurman was an activist who fought against the Dutch for land and liberation of his people. He was among the first political prisoners on Robben Island in September, 1809.
The adoption of the Gqeberha name for the city is a victory for the fight against colonialism.
In a recent article on Gqeberha’s historic hall, Centenary Great Hall, whose name was changed to Nangoza Jebe, I discovered that few people knew who Nangoza was.
Few knew that John Nangoza Jebe was a volunteer who was shot by the apartheid police on March 23, 1956. But we never cared to investigate. Similarly, what is sad about the current imbroglio around the name Gqeberha is that few people even care to know about the origins of the name they despise.
What many know is that it is not a trendy name for a big city like PE.
Gqeberha, they claim, simply makes it sound like platteland, a country place in the middle of nowhere.
The subliminal message again is the way such people regard small towns as well as their inhabitants.
Yet, maybe the homework for the Arts and Culture naming committee is to have public debates before the finalisation of these names.
People need to understand before they flippantly dismiss new but progressive names. Whilst we should all uphold programmes that support the indigent, we should also not relegate the debates that humanise people.
The pan-African project should not be halted and names are vital in reclaiming and addressing the theft of history.
* Vuyisile Msila works at Unisa. He writes in his personal capacity.
** The views expressed here are not necessarily those of Independent Media.