Jan Wilhelm Viljoen

I have always been a firm believer in the power of storytelling – we are the stories we tell and are able to tell. The languages that we use and the histories that we speak are integral not only to who we are but to who we can become. We, therefore, have the power to shape a narrative for South Africa that can speak to every individual she calls an inhabitant. We thus also have a responsibility towards each other and ourselves to be critical of our stories and ways of storytelling, of our histories and history-making, and of the perspectives they encompass. Through politics, through writing, through activism, through academia, and through thoughtful research and praxis; we can uproot the racism, classism, and gender-based discrimination that have come to form part of the foundations of this country’s narrative. Unearthing new histories and discourses is thus an important part of the process of transformation and it is this that I am passionately hoping to bring awareness to in the small and big ways that I can.

I am also a strong adherent of the notion that I am and always will be greater than myself – I cannot call myself “human” without calling each and every person “human” in the same breath. As such, to be able to ethically call myself a South African citizen, I must be able to recognize the humanity in my fellow South Africans. To do so, I have to move towards a greater relational understanding of those who do not possess the privileges that I do. As a gay man, I have made the mistake of thinking I have a grasp on oppression. In light of my white skin, however, I have since become acutely aware of how much I underestimated the enormous complexities embodied in the imbalances of power that have riddled South Africa for decades upon decades.

I do not intend on revealing much about my personal life here. I will tell you that I have a BA Degree in Language and Culture from Stellenbosch University and that my majors were English Studies and Applied English Language Studies. But I do not need to tell you where in South Africa I was born. I do not need to tell you where I came from or who my parents are. All I need to tell you is this: it has become a personal mission of mine to slot myself firmly into the process and progression of transformation in South Africa (and perhaps the globe). I am incredibly blessed to have discovered IESHER as a platform as I now have an opportunity to do exactly that – to bring forth actionable change in the country and continent that I lovingly call “home”.

I cannot allow myself to continue to walk through the streets of Cape Town and see starving faces at every street corner. I cannot allow myself to drive past another township and see a grandmother walking kilometers to fetch water or relieve herself. I cannot allow myself to sit by whilst children hungrily wander the streets when they could have received a decent education. I cannot allow myself to read another news article about a black woman being brutalized and killed by someone of my own gender. I cannot accept this narrative. I will not accept this narrative.

So, through IESHER, I seek to help rewrite the story of South Africa in any way I possibly can. I seek to read and hear a story of this country that is not tainted by poverty, racism, classism, and gender-based violence.