I want to be black

Responses to my column on black economic empowerment (BEE) a few weeks ago reminded me of my four-year-old princess asking me to explain to her why we aren't black.

Quite frankly, I found her earlier questions on where her brother came from a lot easier to handle. With the baby-making process she was just curious - and satisfied after asking surprisingly few questions - however, on the issue of race she had a motive.

"But Mommy, I want to be black!" she insisted.

Her demands were echoed in the views of the people who have contacted me over the last two weeks to discuss my column privately.

The thing that surprised me was that the people I was speaking to were locally born, educated, intelligent, gainfully employed and, without exception, black.

That's right, black people were trying to explain to me that being black was not enough to benefit from our country's BEE policies.

It turns out that it's not the colour of the skin, but the affiliations that matter. Are you a card-holding party member? Do you have struggle credentials? Are you close to people that do? Are you willing to toe the party line? If not, forget it.

The sad laments of these people who just want to get on with their lives took me back to an interview the then newly-instated Democratic Alliance party leader Helen Zille had with BBC programme Hard Talk.

It turns out that it's not the colour of the skin, but the affiliations that matter.

Kimberly Guest, senior journalist

Although I've often found the DA to be unbearably whiny, Zille's interview was remarkably down to earth and reasoned. This was despite presenter Stephen Sackur's determination to get the politician to admit she is against SA's BEE policies.

Not so, said Zille, we are not against BEE at all; rather we are against the way the ANC is implementing BEE policies by indulging in cronyism.

When Sackur pointed to earlier interviewee Tokyo Sexwale as an example of the success of BEE policies, Zille noted that the multi-billionaire had received a significant discount from government on a piece of prime government-owned coastal land on the grounds that his bid was BEE-compliant.

"[Government] gave one of the richest men in SA a R35 million discount. They should have sold it to the highest bidder so that government had R35 million more to deliver services to the poor," she argued.

I've since spoken to black friends, colleagues, associates and acquaintances to get their take on the matter. Without exception, the "favouring" situation has been confirmed.

Some even supported the state of affairs, pointing to the old clich'e: it's not what you know, but who you know that matters. Those that fought for freedom should benefit before all others, explained some who themselves had spent time in exile.

Of even greater concern are the repercussions for those people who are deemed by the power-holders to step out of line. And it's not even about political stance; rather it is the thoughts/beliefs/requirements of the industry personality who is considered to have the greatest sway.

For the person who disagrees with the consensus, retribution is swift. Contracts are put on hold, support and interest is withdrawn, and friends and family avoid calls.

In fact, by the sounds of things, it is preferable to be a white Afrikaans man with the insignia of the AWB tattooed on your forehead than it is to be the black person who said the wrong thing.

So, much as I would like to fulfil my daughter's every desire, there is nothing I can do to satisfy her wish to be black.

However, given that - like her mother - she tends to be rather outspoken, perhaps it is just as well.