QUINTESSENCE OF EVIL

By Omoseye Bolaji

The poor young man was not only chased and hounded at the graveyard; he was ruthlessly stabbed many times. Then his head was cut off. And his face was stripped from his head! Thereafter his body parts were defiled in the most horrific fashion. Later, the police were to find diverse parts of his body all over the place – in the local graveyard, garden.

In case you are thinking: this is yet another unsavoury case of African muti (juju) black magic; you will be wrong! Very. The crime enumerated briefly here was actually perpetrated by a white woman; a gorgeous young South African white woman!

It is a harrowing, horrific, exceedingly shocking incident that continues to shock South Africans. The brief facts are as follows: a young white man , Van Eck thought he was finding love on the internet when he corresponded with a lovely young white woman, Chane van Heerden (20). The lady told him they should meet in person at a graveyard one night in the town of Welkom.

Never for a moment did the man think that he could be walking into danger. Grave danger! He was rather exhilarated and intoxicated at the prospect of meeting the lovely young lady in the flesh, at night! Hence the poor gentleman went to the graveyard…and that was the end of him.

As the girl, Chane van Heerden, confessed in court later, she and a male accomplice (Maartens Van Der Merwe (24) at the graveyard had attacked, ran after, and stabbed Van Eck many times. Then they had decapitated him and cut him to pieces. Unspeakable things had been done to his face and torso before his body parts were buried and even stored in a refrigerator.

It was incredibly shocking for South Africans to hear the young lady, Chane van Heerden, confessing to what they had done to van Eck and his body. She herself had “skinned his face and enjoyed doing so”

Suggestions of Satanism, Cultism etc were made by many “pundits” to explain why a young lady like Chane van Heerden could have done such horrific things to another human being. Yet all the parties involved were white…

For example, South African essayist and writer, Mzwandile Soqaga has said: “You wonder what the white perpetrators - the young woman and the man gained whilst doing this terrible thing to another human being. It appears it was done just for the macabre thrills!”

Indeed in the maleficent world of muti in the black African world, such horrific murders – including the mutilation and appropriation of human body parts are perpetrated for a specific purpose; mainly because of the belief that such violated parts can augment or enhance material wealth, bring good luck etc

But in this case, everybody was baffled as to why Van Eck had been so cruelly dealt with. Anyway, the young lady Chane van Heerden, has been given a lengthy sentence in jail which by South African standards is more or less tantamount to a life sentence…

A HARVEST OF GRIM DEATHS

By Omoseye Bolaji

“Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.”

- Isaac Asimov

The message from my female South African journalist - sent via text
message was depressing –

“Morning, my editor. My younger brother was brutally killed on Friday. I’m going home today…” Later on I would hear the other terrible details of the death from her.

I winced. Another unnecessary death! A young life cruelly nipped in the bud again. Murder most foul. Another statistic of violence!

There is no running away from a general perception that in many ways South Africa can easily be construed as a very violent country where human life meretriciously means little. Reports of violent deeds and murder
are redolent.

The mass media does little to attenuate this perception. Every day in the print and electronic media, there are
lurid reports of wanton killings, men and women being slaughtered, farmers butchered etc. But as I pondered this new personal disaster afflicting my female journalist, my mind went back to a number of grisly deaths involving people I had known in South Africa over the years.

The first that came to my mind was “young” Themba who was the son of my first landlady here. A promising handsome youngster, he was tipped by most to carve a niche for himself in the near future. I left that house but still remained close to that family. Then I heard that Themba was now out of school and had a good job, and was taking care of his mother...then disaster!

I ran into Sandi, the younger brother of Themba and asked him about the family, and Themba in particular. I saw an involuntary shudder run through his body.

“So you haven’t heard?” he started. “Themba is dead. He was stabbed to death, ntate. Just because he bought a new fine cellphone. They left him to bleed to death on the ground in winter. They took his phone...”

What a senseless murder! But it is just one of many I know about personally here. Then there was the”gentleman” Lebohang who I had liked in the beginning. Amiable and genial. Then people told me he had killed two people, stabbing them viciously to death. He noticed my sudden discomfiture one day and laughed.

“So you heard about the guys I killed? It was self-defence, my brother.” He grinned at me and added. “Well, more or less! I am not afraid to kill a human if needs be”. Yet he himself met his end after being
brutally stabbed by an assailant. He who lives by the sword...?

And what about “Aunt Rita”? Friendly, empathetic lady. We used to meet intermittently,
her daughter - in her late teens - in tow. Uncharacteristically I saw the daughter all alone in toropo (the city)one day. I asked about her mother.

There was a terrible silence. She managed to say – “They killed my wonderful mum horribly. An assailant came at night and stabbed her so many times. The blood flowed from her bed to the kitchen... “ And she
began to cry

Alas, sadly, many Nigerians regularly lose their lives in South Africa too, some in gruesome fashion. For me one of the saddest cases was that of a Nigerian who operated a saloon here. I always had a soft spot for
him as I was the one who initially lent him most of the money he used to start his business.

His business acumen and nous were never in doubt and his business blossomed. I visited him every now and then; he was very much a people’s person. The news of his death really shocked me.

I gathered that he was stabbed in the torso many times by one of his closest South African acquaintances, who was drunk at the time whilst having an altercation with him. The same assailant, once sobered down,
whilst visiting the stabbed Nigerian in hospital, was told that he had passed away!

Yet, despite these sad recollections, I can not in good conscience say that I consider South Africans to be essentially violent people. There is violence all over the world. I really don't know...

Omoseye Bolaji writes on the idiocy of racial prejudice

As I watched the recently concluded Euro 2012 with South African friends, the arrant, blinkered idiocy of racial prejudice hit me like a ton of bricks!

This was particularly so during the 2nd semi final between Italy and Germany of which the latter were the hot favourites to win. Yet Italy won thanks to two
superb goals by their so called black striker, Mario Balotelli who played a blinder. Italians in their millions celebrated, crying with joy.

Yet Balotelli is as "black" as anybody could be, came into this world courtesy of authentic Ghanaian parents. He was brought up by Italian foster parents. In fact he dedicated his goals to his white Italian adoptive mother.

 Indeed sports, especially football has done a lot in reducing the centuries old prejudice against blacks by the western world. Now it is no longer almost impossible to see black players strutting their stuff for traditionally white countries.

Pele has always been a legend in football, hailing from Brazil, arguably the most racially mixed country in the world. Pele during World Cup finals starting in 1958 showed the world how brilliant and dexterous a black man can be with the ball.

 By the mid sixties Portugal became the first European country to benefit from fielding a brilliant black player. This was Eusebio, actually born in Africa but
starring for Portugal. He was by far the top goal scorer in the 1966 World Cup finals.

 France and England began to benefit from utilising black players too. Some 30 years ago the sleek Marius Tresor, a black player, actually captained France in a couple of
matches. In the 80s the superb black midfielder, Tigana, lit up matches for France.

 In 1998 many black players helped France to winthe World Cup for the first time. Apart from then young Thierry Henry and Patrick Vieira, Marcel Dessailly was actually born in Ghana, whilst even Zinadine Zidane was the French born son of Algerians.

 By the 80s black players in England were doing well too. Winger Mark Chanberlain used to remind me of Nigeria s Segun  Odegbami. John Barnes became a household name especially after scoring a fantastic goal for England against Brazil. When Des Walker a superb black defender began to play for England the latter even made it to the semi-finals of the 1990 World Cup.

And during the recent 2012 Euro tourney many black players were now ensconced in the squad, it was no longer a novelty. In the attack alone, there was Ashley Young,
Walcott, Danny Welbeck, and young Oxlain Chamberlain. Not to mention
Daniel Defoe!

In many other quote white European countries, they can now boast of black players representing them internationally. Think of Vincent Khampony of Belgium, stalwart of his club, Manchester City. Many of these players, like Balotelli, have their roots in Africa. 

Another example of this that we saw at Euro 2012 was Thodor Halessie who played
for the Czeck Republic; with an Ethiopian father. Angelo Ogbonna who played for Italy was born in that country of Nigerian parents. Then there is Jores Okore  - Ivorian born – playing for Denmark...

The trends extend far beyond football. In boxing for over 50 years the great Muhammad Ali brought glamour, wise-cracking, and zest to the sport. British boxer, Frank Bruno, though black, is a household darling. David Haye is charismatic too.

The Williams sisters - though naturally aging now - dominated world tennis for a decade or more. Venus and Serena. In the sphere of golf, despite his recent problems, Tiger Woods is largely synonymous with the sport.

 And never mind music where blacks rule the roost! Let us just conclude by very briefly looking at acting where there are now many black superstars. Yet incredibly, just over 50 years ago, there was almost no important black actor. Then great Sir Sidney Poitier as a black actor went on to show the idiocy of racial
prejudice...
Photos: Balotelli (top), Eusebio (middle) and John Barnes (below)

Omoseye Bolaji writes on the hoity-toity lady

The post office gave the impression of being pared to the bone, too few people were present. The customary queues were non-existent today. It was a very cold day in the heart of the S.A winter.

I was perched at the other end trying to write a quick letter using one of the public marble-like tables. The cold made this simple process rather languid. I could hardly believe that so few people could be
around.

Presently I noticed that a lady was now on my left. I nodded to her, as a form of greeting but she hardly acknowledged this. She had an ambience of haughtiness and pride. In my mind I briefly dubbed her a hoity-toity lady, well dressed to boot. In the past one could have said she looked "a million dollars",
but apparently that is a cliche!

She was filling a form quickly, her expensive mobile phone beside her on the table, on my left. I
concentrated on my own letter, and hardly noticed she had left. But there was now nobody beside me. Then there was a sort of cold whoosh, draught, as a young man materialised on my left.

Now I was in full possession of my faculties, such as they were! It was just pure instinct. It just occurred to me that there had been a fine cellphone on the table - inadvertently left by the lady - but this new guy had just grabbed it with great speed! I wheeled around and faced the man. The crook!

“Don’t do that my friend,” I said. Obviously, he thought the phone was mine, that I was too busy concentrating on writing, and he could steal it quickly from the table.

The guy smiled at me, a typical tsotsi, skelm - (area boy, omo ita.) “I'm sorry, my brother”, he said. "Temptation." He handed the phone to me. “A very good phone, boss”

But of course the phone was not mine. I had no doubt in my mind that the owner would soon be rushing back after discovering the loss, or perhaps frantically phoning her own phone now with me! I finished my letter, and moved to the seats nearby. Let me wait a bit, I thought.

I had hardly sat down than the "hoity-toity" lady came rushing in, breathless and distraught. She made a beeline for where we had been earlier; the table. She looked as if she was about to cry when she did
not see her phone. I moved towards her and gave her her phone. "I knew you’ll come back for it", I said.

She was very happy, the erstwhile ambience of arrogance deserting her. “Oh, I am so grateful,” she said. “My phone is my life!”

I grinned. “Isn’t that an exaggeration?”

She replied, “Not really. I have countless vital phone numbers there. What about sms, facebook, twitter, etc? General internet in my phone. A fantastic camera in my phone too. Music. Games...”

I grinned again. “Maybe I should have stolen the phone,”. I joked. We both laughed...

Omoseye Bolaji writes on The lady bards

I must confess I have always had a rather ambivalent attitude towards poetry. To be absolutely blunt, on the whole I consider it to be a rather "inferior" genre of literature, especially nowadays when so many mediocre "clowns" are claiming to be poets! I realise many out there would be incensed but this is a general view of mine which is patently qualified. I mean the world has noted eg that T.S Eliot was a great poet and writer, he was also a great literary critic, dramatist and essayist. Nigeria has of course produced many great poets too - like Wole Soyinka, Okigbo, J.P.Clark, Niyi Osundare, Ofeimun, even Chinua Achebe. But note that these illustrious names are not just poets, they are also renowned critics, novelists, dramatists etc. My point is that I feel uneasy when a writer places all emphasis and credence on being a "poet", only, like it's the be-all and end-all of being a writer. To give a SA example, one of my favourite writers is Aryan Kaganof. He has published about ten books of poetry. Yet when I think of Kaganof as a great writer, I am not really thinking of his poetry, but his powerful novels like Uselessly and Laduma. This is a global approach, largely. Thomas Hardy was a great poet but virtually everybody concentrates on his novels. The same applies to D.H Lawrence And the same applies to African writers. When we think of great writers like Achebe, Dambudzo, Armah, Ngugi, Ata Aidoo, virtually everybody is thinking of their works of fiction, or literary essays - not their poetry. Yes, I myself am a published poet. I have published three books of poetry,but I am in no way surprised or upset that most readers and critics focus only on the fiction I have produced. As far as I am concerned, that is the way it is supposed to be! Yet having said all this, I am excited to see more and more young ladies in South Africa reading and writing poetry! I know they will benefit much more from reading prose, but at least they are still appreciating literature. As the great Achebe said, we must not presume to be policemen of literature! And so when three charming, brilliant young S.A women poets - spearheaded by the redoubtable Jah Rose Jafta - approached me to write a Foreword to their book, how could I refuse? In fact I was delighted to do it. The ladies' book, titled Free State of mind, is a fine anthology of poems. And the good news is that the ladies are still quite young and have lots of time to add more strings to their literary bows! - Omoseye Bolaji

Omoseye Bolaji ponders being a movie star...

I suppose I should be gratified and grateful that I have experienced a number of gongs, exhilarating highlights in my life, thanks to my writing career, such as it is. A recent highlight was when the news broke in South Africa that a film documentary focusing on my literary contributions would soon be made by a major film-making firm. This development was published liberally, and many got to hear about it. Inevitably people, especially strangers were enthused about this, and I was congratulated everywhere. "We’ve read that a camera crew will be coming from Johannesburg to film you!" was a constant refrain. This happened virtually everywhere I went - inevitably at libraries, other public places including eateries and parks - it was a bit worrying that many people were construing the news as if it was a conventional block-busting movie! Hence, a large number of people, apart from the usual congratulation, would give me their phone numbers, and other details, including CVs! "We want to be in the movie too, my friend," they said. Actually I am very grateful to Winnie Mokhomo who packaged the documentary. But it was what happened at the main post office that startled me most. The section where I collect my assorted parcels. I got to the place where we rapp on the window-like panel, and took my place at the small queue. I saw two people inside the office, the officials suddenly stare at me and freeze. Then they smiled. The coloured (half-caste lady) went to a corner, and to my shock, brought out a large newspaper story on the film documentary to be made about me. It had been specially laminated! Those around beamed at this, and all eyes swivelled on me. I was embarrassed as the coloured woman hoisted the laminated piece around, saying” “You see,we were all so excited when we saw this. We said - we know this man! He comes here once, twice, a week to collect parcels," Another official, the slender young man, added - "We are very happy for you, and proud of you. Congratulations, Ntate. I am sure it would be a great movie." I thanked them for their goodwill, hoping the ground could open up and swallow me! Then the coloured lady added: "Do you think I am good-looking enough to appear in the movie?” - Omoseye Bolaji

Omoseye Bolaji reminisces on TV antecedents

Television, like modern technology generally, has grown by leaps and bounds. Now worldwide, via satellite TV there are countless stations to savour, including many specialised stations which millions - including myself - would never even bother to watch. Yet incredibly, it was not always like this. A few decades ago, most countries just had only one or two stations, mainly the national one. I was reminded of this recently when i made a brief acquaintance of an Australian tourist. Whilst we shared a few drinks he lamented the current boom in TV worldwide. "The good old days have gone," he said. "There is too much saturation these days. Then, there was the exhilaration of looking forward to, waiting days for the next episode of a TV hit, whether international, or our home grown Aussie shows." I grinned. “You mean like your Return to Eden? ‘ He smiled, not too surprised that I knew about this Australian series, featuring Stephanie Harper, Jakes Sanders etc. I added that as a kid, I also used to watch Skippy - Skippy, the bush kangaroo! He winced. "How could that be? That's many decades ago! Did youu grow up in Europe?" he asked. I replied that though I spent years as a kid in England, I actually watched most episodes of Skippy, the Australian show back in black Africa, so to speak. I explained: “You see, I happen to come from Ibadan, a Nigerian city which has the record of starting the first ever T.V station in the whole of Africa - over fifty years ago, so kids grew up watching shows from around the world. Like in your Australia etc then, it was black and white T.V of course. Colour came later." He said: "So in those days you watched our Skippy a lot?" He laughed. Ah, we were kids then! Did you know most of the stunts in the show were just film tricks? That even the kangaroo itself, "Skippy", was fake in the sense that many kangaroos were used, not just one? I myself learnt that many years later!" I shook my head. "No, we were too young then...you know even in those days, Nigeria had superb home-grown programmes too, including what is usually called soapies now. As you said earlier, the excitement was in waiting a week for the next episode!" My mind went back to Nigerian block-busting TV shows decades ago, like Village Headmaster, New Masquerade, Cockcrow at dawn, Suke, Fadeyi Oloro, Ripples. Gorgeous female stars of those days like Barbara Soky. My own personal favourite actor, Jegede in the comedy, Awada... I said: “Ah well, the world moves on. Now there is so much mushrooming of Nigerian movies, Nollywood. They are so popular here in South Africa! Even in the townships, synonymous with African Magic." The Australian sighed. “I prefer the old days,” he intoned, rather lugubriously. - Omoseye Bolaji