A few weeks ago, a video of Eastern Cape-born actress, Brenda Ngxoli, went viral on social media.
In the video, Ngxoli is heard arguing with an elderly member of her family, either her mother or aunt.
The video, in which Ngxoli is carrying her toddler daughter, Sky, was taken at her homestead in rural Tsomo, where the actress has been living as she is down on her luck.
The mother/aunt initially accuses the renowned actress of physical assault, but in the communication between them, it becomes clear it is Ngxoli who has endured all manner of abuse.
The issue comes down to a reality that many black women in particular know too well — the burden of black tax and the treatment often received by those who do not have financial means in the family.
It is for this reason that within days of the video going viral, many South Africans made their support for Ngxoli known.
A fundraising campaign was initiated for her by Eastern Cape-based influencer, Mandisi Tshingana, and has thus far raised just over R150,000.
In a post that she shared a few days ago, she indicated that she was now in a safe place with her daughter — all of this made possible by the donations she is continuing to receive from various establishments and ordinary South Africans alike.
There are many things that can be said about Ngxoli’s situation.
Some people are arguing that she should not have made the video as she is airing her family’s dirty laundry for the world to see.
I do not share this sentiment and in fact, find it deeply problematic.
Many people have endured abuse from family members and kept it hidden, resulting in incalculable suffering on their part, with their mental health affected, sometimes to a point of suicide.
Abuse thrives in silence, and the culture of silence around it must end.
The dignity of perpetrators cannot be deemed more important than the wellbeing of victims and survivors.
This enables the impunity that so many abusers enjoy, which not only emboldens them, but also sets parameters for more abuse.
Another issue that begs for reflection is that of the burden of black tax on women in particular.
Black tax refers to the financial support that black income earners are obliged to provide to their family on a continuous basis, outside their own living expenses.
It is a direct result of the historical injustices that led to the disenfranchisement of black communities, which continue to define the economic realities faced by black people in SA.
It is a reality that many of us know too well, and as someone who has been the breadwinner in my family since I was a student at Rhodes University, the impact is something I know of at a deeply personal level.
Many households in SA are women-led and according to research by the Human Sciences Research Council, more than 60% of black women are single parents.
This means the financial burden of taking care of families falls mainly on women, who are also primarily responsible for the care work that is needed in families.
Culturally, the work of looking after ailing or ageing family members lies with the eldest daughter, regardless of her ability to do so.
It is an expectation that is not placed on the eldest son.
This illustrates that the burden of black tax is both racial and gendered in character.
It is for this reason that the Ngxoli story has touched so many black women, compelling them to share their own experiences.
Her story has planted a seed of opening up about the damage that black tax is doing to us, lest the narrative of romanticising it continues.
The Herald
Brenda Ngxoli’s story highlights burden of black tax on women especially
Columnist
Image: brendangxoli/ Instagram
A few weeks ago, a video of Eastern Cape-born actress, Brenda Ngxoli, went viral on social media.
In the video, Ngxoli is heard arguing with an elderly member of her family, either her mother or aunt.
The video, in which Ngxoli is carrying her toddler daughter, Sky, was taken at her homestead in rural Tsomo, where the actress has been living as she is down on her luck.
The mother/aunt initially accuses the renowned actress of physical assault, but in the communication between them, it becomes clear it is Ngxoli who has endured all manner of abuse.
The issue comes down to a reality that many black women in particular know too well — the burden of black tax and the treatment often received by those who do not have financial means in the family.
It is for this reason that within days of the video going viral, many South Africans made their support for Ngxoli known.
A fundraising campaign was initiated for her by Eastern Cape-based influencer, Mandisi Tshingana, and has thus far raised just over R150,000.
In a post that she shared a few days ago, she indicated that she was now in a safe place with her daughter — all of this made possible by the donations she is continuing to receive from various establishments and ordinary South Africans alike.
There are many things that can be said about Ngxoli’s situation.
Some people are arguing that she should not have made the video as she is airing her family’s dirty laundry for the world to see.
I do not share this sentiment and in fact, find it deeply problematic.
Many people have endured abuse from family members and kept it hidden, resulting in incalculable suffering on their part, with their mental health affected, sometimes to a point of suicide.
Abuse thrives in silence, and the culture of silence around it must end.
The dignity of perpetrators cannot be deemed more important than the wellbeing of victims and survivors.
This enables the impunity that so many abusers enjoy, which not only emboldens them, but also sets parameters for more abuse.
Another issue that begs for reflection is that of the burden of black tax on women in particular.
Black tax refers to the financial support that black income earners are obliged to provide to their family on a continuous basis, outside their own living expenses.
It is a direct result of the historical injustices that led to the disenfranchisement of black communities, which continue to define the economic realities faced by black people in SA.
It is a reality that many of us know too well, and as someone who has been the breadwinner in my family since I was a student at Rhodes University, the impact is something I know of at a deeply personal level.
Many households in SA are women-led and according to research by the Human Sciences Research Council, more than 60% of black women are single parents.
This means the financial burden of taking care of families falls mainly on women, who are also primarily responsible for the care work that is needed in families.
Culturally, the work of looking after ailing or ageing family members lies with the eldest daughter, regardless of her ability to do so.
It is an expectation that is not placed on the eldest son.
This illustrates that the burden of black tax is both racial and gendered in character.
It is for this reason that the Ngxoli story has touched so many black women, compelling them to share their own experiences.
Her story has planted a seed of opening up about the damage that black tax is doing to us, lest the narrative of romanticising it continues.
The Herald
Would you like to comment on this article?
Register (it's quick and free) or sign in now.
Please read our Comment Policy before commenting.
Latest Videos
Most Read
Opinion
Opinion
Opinion
Opinion
Opinion