The consumption, production and access to food is often viewed as an apolitical, more biological function of life. However, through their work of reclamation and revival, a collective of indigenous food revivalists are showing how food ー because of its links to culture and identity ー may be politicised.
In casual, mainstream conversations, there is very little reference to food when speaking about politics and vice-versa. In fact, depending on who you are talking to, you risk being called out for hyper-politicisation, should you conflate food and politics.
However, the unequal nature of South African society ー largely caused by a history of oppression and dispossession of marginalised people ー has made many aspects of the personal inherently political. So says a collective that has sought to reclaim and revive food and food practices that have been relegated from dominant food narratives.
The concept of the personal being political first emerged during second-wave feminism in the 1960s, and is often credited as being popularised by feminist and writer Carol Hanisch. This concept prompted the expansion of the state-centric conception of politics to include what the Merriam-Webster dictionary calls, “the total complex of relations between people living in society.”
According to Zayaan Khan, due to its ancient nature, a process like fermentation may symbolise the philosophical crossing of the space-time continuum. Fermentation is one of the oldest preservation methods, she says. PHOTOS: Masego Mafata
Food consumption, production and access thereof all form part of the abovementioned complex societal relations. Evidence of this is found in the close links between food and culture, says dr Tapiwa Guzha, founder of Tapi Tapi ice-cream and a proponent of food revival and reclamation.
Food can be an expression or extension of culture, he says. “You can erase people and their behaviour and practices by erasing their food,” says Guzha.
This resonates with a belief held by Zayaan Khan, an indigenous food revivalist and Seed Bibliotheek founder. Colonialism and coloniality form the crux of missing knowledge on indigenous food, she says.
It is upon this crux that indigenous food continues to be exoticised, says Nobhongo Gxolo, a freelance writer and co-founder of Cape Town-based food club, Third Culture Experiment.
Getting acquainted with the journey, history and the beginnings of food is key for establishing a sense of self, for taking a step closer to who we are”
The American National Broadcasting Company released a short video, in 2016, titled Have you ever had a “lunch box” moment?. In the video, Asian American people relay how they were shamed and subjected to racist retorts when they ate culturally-specific lunches.
South Africans can share similar stories when it comes to certain, historically black, traditional foods like umfino and pork trotters, for example. According to Gxolo, this narrative ー which favours the eurocentric palate ー suggests that indigenous food is not fit for “lunch tins”. Ultimately, this regales indigenous foods to performativity, “not an everyday lived experience but an outfit put on for celebration and ceremony,” she says.
“We are what we eat”
The political nature of food is affirmed by the intrinsic, indubitable link between food and identity, says Gxolo.
According to anthropologist and anthropology lecturer at Stellenbosch University, dr Shaheed Tayob, food is the most intimate expression of one’s identity.
“If you take the adage ‘we are what we eat’, it’s then fair to extrapolate that eating the indigenous foods, the produce that is native to one’s own land, means that there’s a cyclical connect ー a conversation between these various parts of who we are that are then speaking to each other,” says Gxolo.
For Khan, it is through food reclamation that the conversation that Gxolo mentions ensues. “I started using the word reclaim ー to reclaim those spaces, to reclaim that knowledge, to reclaim the right to use those plants ー to kind of interrogate my own ancestry and try to figure out where I come from,” she says.
Zayaan Khan, an indigenous food revivalist and artist, gives workshops on ancient practices like fermentation, to revive and maintain some of the well-loved recipes passed down in her family. VIDEO: Masego Mafata
Gxolo concurs with Khan’s approach, saying, “[e]ating is vested with so much; where we come from and who we come from … Getting acquainted with the journey, history and the beginnings of food is key for establishing a sense of self, for taking a step closer to who we are.”
Recipe for cultural revival: food reclamation
Through Tapi Tapi, Guzha aims to revive aspects of African culture that have been negated. Food, specifically ice-cream with flavours derived from traditional African food, is the tool that enables him to complete his aim.
The inspiration for ice-cream flavours at Tapi Tapi ranges from indigenous ingredients like aspalathus linearis – also known as rooibos – to impepho, an indigenous African plant. Ting, for example, is a fermented sorghum dish or porridge often associated with Tswana cuisine. PHOTO: Supplied/Tapi Tapi
“The whole point of the work is not to make money … the actual cause of the work is to address an issue of self-esteem within African identity,” he says.
Dr Tapiwa Guzha says he does not repeat ice-cream flavours. His shop is located in Observatory, CapeTown on Lower Main Road. PHOTO: Masego Mafata
According to Guzha, the work of revival takes place during the conversations that are catalysed by the tastings and reflections of the flavours of his ice-cream.
Through his menu, he hopes to tell stories, evoke nostalgia and make people feel represented and ready to reclaim their space.
“We are only black in exceptional moments. I want us to put our culture forward so that maybe four centuries from now, black people will not be tourists of the continent,” he says.
The evolving nature of culture
The cultural makeup of South Africa, especially in terms of food is very diverse.
“In a lot of respects, South Africa acts like a sponge – soaking up other cultures. Often, unfortunately, this is to the detriment and erasure of its own [cultures],” says Gxolo.
However, people are aspirational beings, and so often we have the autonomy to decide which aspects of culture we would like to adopt and discard, says Tayob. This is notwithstanding the influence of the dominant frames of living, within a particular context he adds.
Dr Tapiwa Guzha has a doctorate in molecular biology. He left the field in 2019 to focus on Tapi Tapi full time. PHOTO: Masego Mafata
For Guzha, it’s less about retaining the ancient practices of a culture in their entirety, and more about holding onto the significant part of the internal influence of that particular culture.
Khan shares a similar sentiment to Guzha. “Not all traditions are traditions that need to be asserted or kept. But a lot of them do have very spiritual value. They exist within a culture that is living and moving and adapting. More than anything, the reclamation is to give volume and recognition to the spaces or aspects of culture that have become extinct and silenced in a very violent way and so we reclaim to acknowledge that,” she says.
Zayaan Khan and dr Tapiwa Guzha say food is a tool to revive culture. They both make use of collaborations to further their revival projects. This message was written by Guzha, outside his shop. Writing is another tool he uses for cultural revival. PHOTO: Masego Mafata