The Sunday News
Richard Runyararo Mahomva
Since 2015 when the Fees Must Fall aphorism was conceived, a collage of sociological and political concerns around liberating knowledge were brought to the fore.
This was an opportune time for the organised dissipation of the right to education to be exposed. This movement whose roots were grounded in the Mzansi story resonated with the rest of the Global-South polemic academia. This movement gave vivid reflections of the implanted nature of the residues of colonialism in the university. The knowledge decoloniality agenda further advanced the dismantling of the asymmetrical order to knowledge production. The quest to reorder the hierarchies of the knowledge further exposed the racial founded architecture of epistemological access — how the classroom continued to be a hub of silencing African epistemologies yet mainstreaming the rationale of Westernisation to define our conditions and experiences.
The Fees Must Fall movement remains vital in shaping the methodologies and epistemic weaponry for unmasking the concealed existentiality of coloniality in the university. As such, the call to decolonise the university remains fundamental in unpacking issues affecting students outside their urgency for cognitive justice.
Depatriarchisation of the university constitutes a new discourse of rethinking the culture of patriarchy and sexuality — and Professor Sabelo Ndlovu-Gatsheni (2015; 2017) has consistently emphasised the need to positively emasculate the university so that gender equality is achieved. In his perspective, Ndlovu-Gatsheni has problematised the university for being massively intoxicated by patriarchy. As a result, the female student is susceptible to patriarchy through sexual manipulation.
Much of the knowledge decoloniality debate has been less considerate to how patriarchy and sexual cultures are an important part of the university life. It was only after I read a journal penned by a cohort of tertiary students titled; A Student’s Eye:
Perspectives On Campus Culture that I realised the importance of this subject. This publication is an assortment of exhilarating and erudite narratives unpacking the isolated or should I say the less tackled subject of the university sex culture.
Every page expresses the writers’ boldness as they seem ignorant to the taboo of discussing sexuality considering the rigidity and conservativeness of our society. The writers seem to unashamedly put their heads into the guillotine by taking the path of heresy — saying what must not be said by people of their age.
Could the candidness of the writers be interpreted as a reflection of liberalism that our universities are producing? If that is the case, should we not start investing in policies which encourage open learning on sexual indulgence so that the subject no longer becomes a taboo? In the process, the mainstreaming of sexual responsibility will prevent the jeopardy that come with the misadventures of this adults’ game now appropriated by their young ones.
Mneka Shaura Mbanje, a contributor in the journal speaks of sexual activity as part of the day and night routines of the university life. Surprisingly this is where much knowledge must be produced, where new innovations must be ignited, nurtured and raised to the requisites of national development. However, the contrary is taking precedence as the lecturers, the boys and the girls have to pay tribute to the master of their entrapment:
“Mad cow disease running rampant in corridors painted sparkling white with semen at night and later to be washed off in the morning with tears. The best kind of tears, tears of regret and shame. This is supposed to be the ‘good’ university! One where all the decent kids go to, and yet, it’s the university where the devil and sinners go to. The lectures are permeated with grief from the girls who regret their actions and blue balls for the boys who didn’t get any action.”
In Mbanje’s perspective the university — as a society seems to have lost its foundational value. Sadly in the normalcy of the taboo which has been reduced to nothing, but a game of fun the girl-child seems to be a less considered party. She is at the receiving end to gratifying the pleasures of patriarchy:
“As a girl, you can’t say anything when it comes to sex, it’s a man’s world. Women are works of art, they are supposed to look pleasing and nothing else. If he thinks he is pleasing you properly then by the gods, he is doing it right. It doesn’t matter if it feels like he’s trying to pick snort from his nose or if you could swear that there is a slimy slug running down your back, he is doing it right.”
Who are the uni-sexuals?
These are the maiden to the game of adults who have just graduated from high school. They are having first contact with pseudo liberties of adulthood. Through peer pressure and the constant desire to belong to this community that seems to be blind of norms and morals, these young adults are naturally blended into normalcy of promiscuity as revelled in Cinginkosi Ncube’s piece:
“I still had not even thought of having sex with Brian after two months of dating, which was contrary to varsity unsaid rules of dating. See, every society has ideas that control the way people act or do their things. In this our campus society, it was a norm that one should prove their loyalty and commitment to their partner by giving in to sex, especially for ladies. Or rather, boys feel they have a right to the girl’s v***** simply because she agreed to be his girlfriend.”
In his contribution in the book, Valentine Makoni presents uni-sexuals as young men who are in their prime time. Their desire to be in love is high, but they can not afford to attract love from the trendy girls in the university. The solo-character in Valentine story is an amateur alcoholic. The unnamed character is bothered about market related terms to accessing sex. The girls in the university seem to be classy and expensive to get. His budget is too tiny to get him a girl from campus. Therefore, his alternative becomes the pole dancer at the club where he is a regular. In almost every account shared in the book sexual exchanges have a financial implication.
The girls are taken out for dinner and they find themselves ready to give it away. Moreover, it’s the boys’ buying of drinks which makes them feel that they have an entitlement to girls. This is acutely narrated in Eppnoggia Mutetwa’s account about a female character who is determined to belong to the trendy clique. Part of the fraternal subscription was boozing and later she became sexually active. All this happened outside the moral tutelage that her home had given her.
On the other hand, much of the curiosity in love making also emanates from the social frustrations that the young academics have to deal with. Providence Shumba shares an account of a stereotyped girl who is isolated for being different. Zie is her name. She is a foreign student, she is scorned for her foreign accent. That kills her esteem and breaks her down. This student is subjected to subtle xenophobic bullying. It takes this one calm young man called Nkosi to get into the depths of her frustrations. The two begin to have conversations which draw them away from the noise of the meddling haters. In their escape from scorn and intolerance, the two find their way to soul-comforts in some hostel where they exchange their energies of frustration for romance.
Generally, this collection exposes that there is a hidden culture in our universities and how the life routines of the university citizens revolves around sexual participation and exclusion. Those who are participants to the culture are embraced, they have more peers than those who are less active in the game. Sadly, the game comes with numerous and deadly consequences. In some instances unwanted pregnancies occur. Locardia Mbatha exposes how a young lady whose mishandling of the game landed her in an abortion quagmire.
Where does the problem lie?
In our entire socialisation having conversations about participation in sex has also been viewed as an off-limits. I am quite sure some people find everything wrong about the book under review; particularly its contributors. How dare they write about sexual desires when they are not married? How can a national newspaper allow such a writing to be published? These are some of the questions that some people might be asking. This is because culture and religion have confined this subject to sacredness. It has been generously ignored that the discourse around sexual participation involves biological factors which are oblivious of the scriptures.
Therefore, society has only managed to instil scriptural consciousness on sexuality and has invested less in confronting the reality of the anarchical nature that comes with “lust”. In our unwillingness to openly discuss sexual issues at a family level we run the risk of promoting irresponsible indulgence. This is why every experience of the uni-sexual unpleasant. Their first sexual experience and experiment is not informed by any precaution which is rational. At the end of the day, their diaries conceal the shame of the number of blessers they have offered their bodies to in exchange of STDs and STIs. Through irrational influences of patriarchy this is why the male uni-sexuals find pleasure in sleeping around with many girls on campus. That’s a massage to their ego. In the process, we unconsciously nurture the spread of HIV and Aids at the same time objectifying the girl-child to give pleasure to vanities of patriarchy.
