Prof Tebogo Mashifana is an associate professor and head of the department of chemical engineering technology at the University of Johannesburg.
She recently penned an opinion article that first appeared in The City Press on 03 March 2024.
Much has been said about President Cyril Ramaphosa’s use of a fictional Tintswalo in his recent state of the nation address to drive home his message of government’s achievements since the dawn of democracy in South Africa 30 years ago.
Although a tactical masterstroke, the move sparked a barrage of criticism, with opposition parties leading the charge.
Clearly, the Tintswalo the president raved about – a symbol of the generation of South Africans born at the attainment of democracy in 1994 – was not the same person that many identified with, at least according to the opposition parties and most sentiments shared on social media.
Theirs is a Tintswalo who is wallowing in misery because she is part of the forsaken lot in the new political dispensation. That is understandable, given the high unemployment rate, the widening chasm between the rich and poor as well as the challenges of poverty and squalor that persist in post-apartheid South Africa.
However, I consider myself among the luckiest people as I found resonance with the president’s speech.
Although I was not born in 1994, I felt Ramaphosa was referring to my personal journey as a student and academic.
My story is a testament to the limitless potential that can be realised when talent is properly nurtured and supported, and when all individuals are given the opportunity to participate in the new dispensation, regardless of their race, gender and creed.
Under the apartheid regime, various policies were enacted, most notably the Extension of University Education Act (no 45) of 1959, which effectively established a highly segregated framework within the higher education sector.
The act made it a criminal offence for a non-white student to register at an open university without the written permission of the minister of internal affairs. Consequently, institutions specifically catering to non-white students were established, thereby perpetuating a system of racial segregation.
Prior to the enactment of this legislation, a mere 17% of the students in white universities comprised individuals classified as black, Asian or coloured.
Moreover, the apartheid era witnessed a perpetuation of discriminatory practices in terms of academic staffing. White academics were exclusively employed at the former white universities while individuals of mixed races were appointed in non-white universities.
Black women encountered substantial impediments that restricted their access to higher education and profoundly limited their possibilities for pursuing advanced degrees and embarking on academic careers.
Associate professor and professor positions were scarcely held by black women and leadership roles within academic institutions were even more elusive.
However, in the post-1994 epoch, a series of policies were formulated and implemented, notably the 1997 White Paper 3: A Programme for the Transformation of Higher Education. Its explicit aim was to address the pervasive gender disparities within South African higher education after 1994.
This policy document duly recognised the triple marginalisation faced by black women, namely racial, socioeconomic and gender-based discrimination, and vehemently opposed the homogenisation of individuals’ circumstances and conditions.
The policy document highlighted the tension within the white paper that have hindered the successful addressing of gender gaps.
Ramaphosa’s words during Sona also serve as a poignant reminder of the profound responsibility I bear not only towards myself, but also to the multitude of aspiring young women who dream of forging a path in academia and in the science, technology, engineering, mathematics and innovation (STEMI) space.
Government policies aimed at promoting diversity and inclusion in higher education have led to a gradual increase in the number of black women pursuing PhDs, particularly in fields such as STEMI.
As a result, more black women are now represented within academic institutions. Today, 30 years into democracy, I am profoundly grateful as I reflect on my life from the perspective of academia.
Despite encountering various challenges, my narrative has been shaped by resilience, determination and an unwavering pursuit of excellence.
My upbringing instilled in me the conviction that knowledge and education serve as the fundamental keys to achieving success.
Despite their financial hardships, my parents went above and beyond to ensure that I received the best education possible. From an early stage, they made sure that I understood the importance of education and the opportunities it could unlock.
They imparted in me the wisdom that, with hard work and unwavering dedication, anything is possible.
When I first arrived at university, the harsh reality of financial constraints followed me.
Like many students from disadvantaged backgrounds, I did not have the means to support myself and pay for my studies.
However, through the support and funding provided by government institutions, I was able to pursue my academic aspirations without compromising my dreams. It was this initial financial support that laid the foundation for my future success and propelled me forward in my journey.
Against all odds, I pursued my studies with relentless determination, pushing through whatever challenges and setbacks came my way.
With the continued support of government institutions, I was able to attain a doctoral degree in engineering, stepping into a reality and opportunity only offered to a few in the past.
Fuelled by determination and a hunger for knowledge, I embarked on a path that would eventually lead me to become the first black woman to head a department of chemical engineering. Subsequently, I became the first woman associate professor in the department.
Of course, this is a milestone that carries significant weight in a field where diversity has historically been lacking and where representation matters the most.
Today, I am deeply grateful for the opportunities that have been afforded to me along my journey and the policies that made it possible for someone who looks like me to be included.
I am grateful for the pivotal role that government institutions played in shaping my academic trajectory and I am committed to ensuring that future generations of aspiring academics have access to similar opportunities.
As I reflect on this, I am reminded of the progress that has been made in this country and the challenges that still lie ahead.
The past three decades have seen significant strides towards building a more inclusive and equitable society, but there is still much work to be done.
I am keenly aware of the barriers that still exist for individuals from marginalised backgrounds and I hope that this and the next generations of women will experience a complete transformation in every sector. The transformation over the past three decades is undeniable.
I am grateful and committed to continuing the work of those who came before me and to paving the way for future generations of scholars, engineers and academics.
My journey is a testament of the power of education and what happens when opportunities are equally provided to people, irrespective of gender and race.
I saw myself in the woman the president referred to in many ways. I am Tintswalo and I have benefited from the opportunities provided to me in the post-1994 democratic era.
*The views expressed in this article are that of the author/s and do not necessarily reflect that of the University of Johannesburg.
