Mihlali's Story
I was born in Transkei, which is a rural place in Eastern Cape, South Africa. From there, I moved to a township called Mdantsane (also in Eastern Cape), before eventually coming to Johannesburg. There is a stark contrast between the two lives that I lived in these two places. In the Eastern Cape community I come from, being a gay man is completely unacceptable — men are expected to behave in a specific, rigidly masculine way. In Johannesburg, things are more flexible, and people are far kinder and more accepting. So, I went through a long process of unlearning and relearning what was expected of me by society after moving to Johannesburg.
South Africa has many different tribes, each with their own unique culture. I am Xhosa, and in my tradition, there is something called “Ulwaluko,” which is a private rite of passage ceremony in which young boys are initiated into manhood. This ceremony takes place over three or four weeks, and during this time the boys are kept away from the contact of women. Circumcision is a part of the ritual, and boys are taught to not only objectify women but see them as inferior to men. I have always been open about being gay, so during this ceremony I was told to cut ties with the queer people who were my friends and get rid of my feminine mannerisms, which were deemed to be queer. Personally, I never wanted to go to this ceremony, but it is a defining part of my culture — one either participates and becomes a part of the circle of manhood, or they are ostracised.
My immediate family (my mother, grandmother and uncles) are perfectly fine with my sexual orientation. I remember my mother once told me, “If you are a gay and it cannot be changed, then so be it.” This affirmation from my family made me feel protected by them, which has always been the greatest asset to me. Sadly, some of my extended family members and many people within the community where I grew up are still not okay with this aspect of who I am. In school, I was often bullied, and even as an adult I have been told that I need to be raped or be beaten up to “make me straight.” These attitudes keep me at home when I visit my native homeland because hate crimes against queer people are common in South Africa, despite the fact that the constitution acknowledges same-sex relationships. This does not reflect the common psyche of the people, at least not in the rural parts of the country. Many people in the countryside do agree that queer people should be given their rights, but they still lose their minds when it comes to same-sex relationships because they view those as morally wrong.
Moving to Johannesburg has been a great learning experience for me. Since I came here there has been a lot of debunking of what I was told and taught in my Eastern Cape youth. Yet, there is still a dilemma inside me as I try and work out how to hold on to my culture while letting go of the negative attitudes it taught me about my sexuality. I know there is a middle path I can take that will allow me to do both. In the meantime, while I am still figuring it out, I choose to wear a mask when I visit home.
For more about Mihlali, follow him on Twitter.
Artist Notes
“The face of a man with a moustache and beard symbolises a traditional “manly” man, which is what boys are expected to become through the initiation Mihlali describes. A woman hanging upside-down from the right part of the moustache shows that boys in his culture are taught to view women as inferior to them, and the grapes at the left of the moustache and the hand underneath represent the initiation itself. The dream catcher and a small creeper on the forehead of the face represents Mihlali’s dreams and their manifestation, which he places above the rituals of initiation and tries to find a balance between his culture and being himself, unlearning and relearning everything after moving to Johannesburg.”
Published Mar 1, 2020
Updated Aug 23, 2023
Published in Issue V: Taboos