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23 October 2020 | Story Nombulelo Shange and Lesego Bertha Kgatitswe | Photo Pixabay
It is #BreastCancerAwarenessMonth, and women in rural areas struggle to receive and understand the life-saving messages, as much of the awareness is predominately in English, while cancer centres and health facilitates are mostly located in urban areas.

It is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and questions around the reach of awareness are important to ponder. Who is the awareness really for? Much of the awareness is predominately in English, while cancer centres and health facilities are mostly located in urban areas. The result – women in rural areas struggle to receive and understand the life-saving messages. Accessibility remains a huge challenge when it comes to both diagnosis and treatment. Once diagnosed, black women must contend with many other socio-economic challenges that limit them from receiving treatment, even if it is free and provided by public healthcare institutions.

Overwhelming number of black women is poor and marginalised in SA

Women in the Northern Cape and parts of North West, for example, have to travel to Kimberley to access breast cancer treatment facilities. Kuruman has a satellite facility, but with limited resources and staff. Northern Cape is the largest province in South Africa when it comes to land mass, and most poor rural black women cannot afford the cost of travelling to Kimberley because of extreme poverty. A 2019 study conducted by the Pietermaritzburg Economic Justice and Dignity Group shows that 55,5% of the South African population survives on R40,90 per person per day. South Africa is also the most unequal society in the world, with those historically marginalised by colonisation and apartheid still being the most oppressed even today. Black women make up an overwhelming number of the poor and marginalised in SA. When black women are diagnosed with breast cancer, they have the burden of having to pit their bread and butter issues against their health concerns. Transport, food, and other travel costs have the ability to push these women and their families deeper into poverty when important healthcare institutions are far and inaccessible. 

Breast cancer awareness and education needs to be scaled up in the black communities to also consider these socio-economic limitations. Greater focus on primary healthcare is also needed with regard to speedy referral for screening and diagnostic tests. These interventions are still largely lacking in black communities, partly because of the myths around who is affected by cancer. The misconception is often that cancer is a disease that only affects white people, and it still persists despite the growing incidences of cancer among black women. One of the reasons influencing this racialised idea of the illness might be the fact that there are seemingly higher incidences of breast cancer among white women than among black women.

In 2011, the National Cancer Registry reported that the overall risk for breast cancer in South Africa is 1 in 29 women, and further estimated that the lifetime risk is 1 in 12 among white women and 1 in 50 among black women. These figures, however, do not account for the black women who might never receive a proper diagnosis. Current and accurate research is not available on how these figures might have changed over the past 10 years. The 2017 Breast Cancer Prevention and Control Policy, however, attributes lower incidence of breast cancer among black women to multiple socio-cultural factors, such as universal and prolonged lactation, low use of hormone replacement therapy, late menarche, early age of first birth, and a diet low in fat and high in fibre. However, due to rapid urbanisation and lifestyle changes, there has been a significant decrease in these protective factors, making black women vulnerable to increased incidences of breast cancer and mortality.

Public healthcare system had to prioritise simultaneously 

Historically, cancer, along with other non-communicable diseases, have been understood as diseases of affluence, as they are related to economic development, consumption, and lifestyle. In contrast, infectious or communicable diseases were understood as diseases of poverty and impoverishment. These crude categorisations were central in explaining global health inequalities, but the epidemiological transitions of the past few decades have forced us to think more critically about these issues. South Africa as a middle-income country is a case in point, with a disease burden of both communicable and non-communicable diseases, which the public healthcare system had to prioritise simultaneously. Breast cancer has thus been declared a national priority, as highlighted by the Breast Cancer Prevention and Control Policy of 2017.

The policy notes that women who live in rural areas are at a disadvantage regarding access to information and services; however, little is said about the intersections of race, class, and gender in understanding the structural barriers to breast cancer awareness and knowledge. The poor or inadequate breast cancer awareness and knowledge among black women should be a call for concern.

Poor knowledge and awareness of breast cancer leads to delayed detection, presentation, diagnosis, and treatment. This results in a late stage of cancer upon diagnosis, aggressive cancer treatment, severe side effects, poor quality of life, or worse – mortality. As public health specialists often say, ‘equity in healthcare begins with equity in health education’. Sociological analysis and theorising are thus important for us to understand these structural barriers, starting with how black women’s bodies are seen and treated. Researchers around the world have highlighted how the healthcare system treats black women differently as a result of implicit racial bias, discrimination, and racism.

American critical race theorist and feminist scholar, Patricia Hill Collins, attributes the discrimination experienced by black women to vectors of oppression that intersect in black women’s lives. Poverty, lack of representation in healthcare systems/leadership, discrimination along racial and gender lines – all these vectors come together and make access to healthcare a huge challenge for black women. Systems marginalise black women for economic gain or to maintain patriarchal dominance, making even the most basic rights and institutions inaccessible to black women.

The exclusion of black women

Beyond awareness, these challenges also speak to the exclusion of black women in public spaces, in senior positions within healthcare, in leadership, and in important decision-making that can impact how they navigate the world. The lack of representation affects even the personal aspects of black women’s lives, such as how they experience illness.

Feminists tackle this challenge by turning the personal into the political. Politicising the personal is forcing the challenges that women are faced with into the public space, compelling institutions and leaders to address these challenges. Breast cancer awareness does this in part, which is one of the things that makes the movement so important. But is it leaving black women behind?  

While awareness might be lacking for black women with breast cancer, it is important to note that some women have exercised their agency to advance breast cancer awareness. Mama Lillian Dube, for example, used her public platform to talk about her experiences of breast cancer, demystifying the illness, and advocating for quality healthcare services for women. We also need to tap into existing structures and initiatives; community healthcare workers have done great work in the past to create awareness around HIV/AIDS. Similar strategies should be considered for breast cancer awareness to ensure that no woman is left behind.  

Opinion article by Nombulelo Shange, Lecturer in the Department of Sociology, University of the Free State, and Lesego Bertha Kgatitswe (Lecturer in the Department of Sociology at Sol Plaatje University)  

 


News Archive

Media: Sunday Times
2006-05-20

Sunday Times, 4 June 2006

True leadership may mean admitting disunity
 

In this edited extract from the inaugural King Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture at the University of the Free State, Professor Njabulo S Ndebele explores the leadership challenges facing South Africa

RECENT events have created a sense that we are undergoing a serious crisis of leadership in our new democracy. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and committed South Africans, across class, racial and cultural spectrums, confess to feeling uncertain and vulnerable as never before since 1994.

When indomitable optimists confess to having a sense of things unhinging, the misery of anxiety spreads. We have the sense that events are spiralling out of control and that no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a definitive handle on things.

There can be nothing more debilitating than a generalised and undefined sense of anxiety in the body politic. It breeds conspiracies and fear.

There is an impression that a very complex society has developed, in the last few years, a rather simple, centralised governance mechanism in the hope that delivery can be better and more quickly driven. The complexity of governance then gets located within a single structure of authority rather than in the devolved structures envisaged in the Constitution, which should interact with one another continuously, and in response to their specific settings, to achieve defined goals. Collapse in a single structure of authority, because there is no robust backup, can be catastrophic.

The autonomy of devolved structures presents itself as an impediment only when visionary cohesion collapses. Where such cohesion is strong, the impediment is only illusory, particularly when it encourages healthy competition, for example, among the provinces, or where a province develops a character that is not necessarily autonomous politically but rather distinctive and a special source of regional pride. Such competition brings vibrancy to the country. It does not necessarily challenge the centre.

Devolved autonomy is vital in the interests of sustainable governance. The failure of various structures to actualise their constitutionally defined roles should not be attributed to the failure of the prescribed governance mechanism. It is too early to say that what we have has not worked. The only viable corrective will be in our ability to be robust in identifying the problems and dealing with them concertedly.

We have never had social cohesion in South Africa — certainly not since the Natives’ Land Act of 1913. What we definitely have had over the decades is a mobilising vision. Could it be that the mobilising vision, mistaken for social cohesion, is cracking under the weight of the reality and extent of social reconstruction, and that the legitimate framework for debating these problems is collapsing? If that is so, are we witnessing a cumulative failure of leadership?

I am making a descriptive rather than an evaluative inquiry. I do not believe that there is any single entity to be blamed. It is simply that we may be a country in search of another line of approach. What will it be?

I would like to suggest two avenues of approach — an inclusive model and a counter-intuitive model of leadership.

In an inclusive approach, leadership is exercised not only by those who have been put in some position of power to steer an organisation or institution. Leadership is what all of us do when we express, sincerely, our deepest feelings and thoughts; when we do our work, whatever it is, with passion and integrity.

Counter-intuitive leadership lies in the ability of leaders to read a problematic situation, assess probable outcomes and then recognise that those outcomes will only compound the problem. Genuine leadership, in this sense, requires going against probability in seeking unexpected outcomes. That’s what happened when we avoided a civil war and ended up with an “unexpected” democracy.

Right now, we may very well hear desperate calls for unity, when the counter-intuitive imperative would be to acknowledge disunity. A declaration of unity where it manifestly does not appear to exist will fail to reassure.

Many within the “broad alliance” might have the view that the mobilising vision of old may have transformed into a strategy of executive steering with a disposition towards an expectation of compliance. No matter how compelling the reasons for that tendency, it may be seen as part of a cumulative process in which popular notions of democratic governance are apparently undermined and devalued; and where public uncertainty in the midst of seeming crisis induces fear which could freeze public thinking at a time when more voices ought to be heard.

Could it be that part of the problem is that we are unable to deal with the notion of opposition? We are horrified that any of us could be seen to have become “the opposition”. The word has been demonised. In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there is no longer a single, overwhelmingly dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of history. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than seek to prevent it. We see here once more the essential creativity of the counter-intuitive imperative.

This is the formidable challenge of a popular post-apartheid political movement. Can it conceptually anticipate a future when it is no longer overwhelmingly in control, in the form in which it is currently, and resist, counter-intuitively, the temptation to prevent such an eventuality? Successfully resisting such an option would enable its current vision and its ultimate legacy to our country to manifest in different articulations, which then contend for social influence. In this way, the vision never really dies; it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. Consider the metaphor of flying ants replicating the ant community by establishing new ones.

We may certainly experience the meaning of comradeship differently, where we will now have “comrades on the other side”.

Any political movement that imagines itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few movements have survived those defining moments when they should have been more elastic, and that because they were not, did not live to see the next day.

I believe we may have reached a moment not fundamentally different from the sobering, yet uplifting and vision-making, nation-building realities that led to Kempton Park in the early ’90s. The difference between then and now is that the black majority is not facing white compatriots across the negotiating table. Rather, it is facing itself: perhaps really for the first time since 1994. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed leading up to the adoption or our Constitution?

This is not a time for repeating old platitudes. It is the time, once more, for vision.

In the total scheme of things, the outcome could be as disastrous as it could be formative and uplifting, setting in place the conditions for a true renaissance that could be sustained for generations to come.

Ndebele is Vice-Chancellor of the University of Cape Town and author of the novel The Cry of Winnie Mandela

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