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22 October 2021 | Story Prof Francis Petersen | Photo Sonia Small (Kaleidoscope Studios)
Prof Francis Petersen is the Rector and Vice-Chancellor of the University of the Free State (UFS).

Opinion article by Prof Francis Petersen, Rector and Vice-Chancellor, UFS.


 

October has become synonymous with a sensitivity around mental health issues and orchestrated attempts to reach out to those burdened with the strain of work, financial, and personal pressure.

But towards the end of 2021, we find ourselves in an altered world, where reaching out has become a bit of a dilemma.   
What we perhaps need now is to go back to the drawing board. And start with one.

Social distancing seems to be the exact opposite of social outreach. It seems to imply withdrawing a hand instead of extending it; staying static instead of going out; soaking up support and advice instead of selflessly sharing it. So, how on earth do we reach out to people under these circumstances? 

Effects of isolation

One of the great and sad ironies of the COVID-19 pandemic is that it has not really resulted in the overriding sense of community and solidarity that often accompanies severe communal hardship. Normally, there is nothing that unites people like a common adversary. But even though we are faced with a situation that affects absolutely all of us, so many people have never felt so isolated as now.

We are all in the same boat. Yet many people constantly feel as if they are drifting alone on their own little life rafts, just hoping to survive as they desperately try to ride out the storm. 

Psychologists on our campuses report that they are seeing more students than ever before, as more of them seem to muster up the courage to attend an online counselling session – which some find less daunting than a face-to-face consultation. And while it is encouraging to note that those in need are indeed making use of the services on offer, these virtual interactions have their own challenges and limitations. Counsellors find it difficult to read patients’ body language and to gauge aura and atmosphere. It is often hard to reach out and connect with someone who is not near you. 

Our limited and restricted interactions seem to worsen the isolation. Although we are down to alert Level 1 in terms of lockdown regulations, many individuals and workplaces are still cautiously – and wisely – limiting social interaction as far as possible.  We don’t just bump into colleagues and acquaintances in passages and at meetings anymore. And if we do see someone, our masked faces often expose little about how we really feel. Social media profiles similarly reveal very little, often displaying smiling, positive images that may be deceptive – not to mention several years old.

Deliberately reaching out

I believe what we need now is to deliberately reach out to those around us. We simply can no longer rely on chance encounters to find out how people are really doing. And when we do reach out, our interactions need to be deeper than just the superficial enquiries about physical health. Our concern needs to stretch further than just wanting to know if those around us are physically surviving this pandemic. We need to be sensitive enough to pick up whether they are coping under the huge mental strain that fear and uncertainty can bring. And we need to offer genuine care and support if they don’t.

It starts with self-care. The old adage that you ‘can’t pour from an empty cup’ remains true. We need to look after our own physical and mental well-being first.

Institutional self-care needed

Institutions need to do systemic self-care too. We need to have risk strategies and measures in place to make sure that we survive the ramifications of this pandemic. And once that is in place, we urgently need to take care of our employees.
At the University of the Free State (UFS), we have started a comprehensive, integrated effort to look after the health and wellness of our staff as well as our students. Programmes have been put in place to monitor and evaluate mental-health needs, and interventions that are carefully designed to address them. Self-care workshops, podcasts, and webinars frankly address issues such as ‘loneliness and working from home’, ‘building resilience’, and ‘managing fatigue’. 
I believe that in the current climate, initiatives such as these should no longer be seen as extra add-ons offered benevolently by employers; it should be viewed as equally essential as a pay cheque at the end of the month.
As institutions, we are continuously pre-occupied with how we can serve the masses. Programmes and policies are developed to apply to all. But from time to time, we must also be able to reach out to the one. We need to be able to cater for those individuals at risk of falling through the cracks.

At the UFS, we launched the No Student Left Behind campaign at the beginning of the pandemic to ensure that all our students were able to make use of online teaching and learning facilities to complete the academic year. 
And here lies another bit of irony – this time in a positive sense: Technology has actually enabled us to be more personal.  Using advanced data analytics, we can pick up patterns in how students use our online learning offerings, enabling us to zoom in on those who are not regularly logging in and may need individual attention and assistance. We can identify what they are struggling with and help them – one by one.

One person is all it takes

To me, the ‘value of one’ is poignantly and heart-warmingly illustrated through the ‘Khothatsa Project’ (derived from the Sesotho word meaning ‘to inspire’), initiated by our Centre for Teaching and Learning. Students were invited to write about how individual lecturers inspired them, to which the lecturers replied with a letter of their own. Small, personal exchanges in the form of old-fashioned communication. One lecturer, one student.

It once again proved how one small act of kindness and recognition can spread much wider than initially intended. Because in the end, these stories were put together in a publication, shared on online platforms, and now serve as inspiration for many students and lecturers, as well as a wider readership – many of whom are yearning for this kind of personal exchange.

Lea Koenig, a now retired lecturer in Extended Programmes offered on our Qwaqwa Campus, accurately sums it up in her foreword to the publication:
“To connect with another human being on a cognitive and emotional level leaves permanent, healing change. This is transformation of the purest kind. I am proud to be part of an institution that can showcase these relationships and the change it brings in our lives, but also the huge potential to change the world.”    

Lea’s words and the entire Khothatsa Project once again reminded me of the immense potential and saving power that lies in sincere one-on-one interaction. And maybe this is how we should approach Mental Health Month this year. As an opportunity to really reach out and get involved with at least one person who is taking strain.

After all, a drowning victim does not have much need for a shower of virtual well-wishes and a stream of sympathetic words. He/she needs something tangible. Something close and real – a real-life life buoy. 
And normally, one is enough. 

News Archive

Media: ANC can learn a lesson from Moshoeshoe
2006-05-20


27/05/2006 20:32 - (SA) 
ANC can learn a lesson from Moshoeshoe
ON 2004, the University of the Free State turned 100 years old. As part of its centenary celebrations, the idea of the Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture was mooted as part of another idea: to promote the study of the meaning of Moshoeshoe.

This lecture comes at a critical point in South Africa's still-new democracy. There are indications that the value of public engagement that Moshoeshoe prized highly through his lipitso [community gatherings], and now also a prized feature in our democracy, may be under serious threat. It is for this reason that I would like to dedicate this lecture to all those in our country and elsewhere who daily or weekly, or however frequently, have had the courage to express their considered opinions on pressing matters facing our society. They may be columnists, editors, commentators, artists of all kinds, academics and writers of letters to the editor, non-violent protesters with their placards and cartoonists who put a mirror in front of our eyes.

There is a remarkable story of how Moshoeshoe dealt with Mzilikazi, the aggressor who attacked Thaba Bosiu and failed. So when Mzilikazi retreated from Thaba Bosiu with a bruised ego after failing to take over the mountain, Moshoeshoe, in an unexpected turn of events, sent him cattle to return home bruised but grateful for the generosity of a victorious target of his aggression. At least he would not starve along the way. It was a devastating act of magnanimity which signalled a phenomenal role change.

"If only you had asked," Moshoeshoe seemed to be saying, "I could have given you some cattle. Have them anyway."

It was impossible for Mzilikazi not to have felt ashamed. At the same time, he could still present himself to his people as one who was so feared that even in defeat he was given cattle. At any rate, he never returned.

I look at our situation in South Africa and find that the wisdom of Moshoeshoe's method produced one of the defining moments that led to South Africa's momentous transition to democracy. Part of Nelson Mandela's legacy is precisely this: what I have called counter-intuitive leadership and the immense possibilities it offers for re-imagining whole societies.

A number of events in the past 12 months have made me wonder whether we are faced with a new situation that may have arisen. An increasing number of highly intelligent, sensitive and highly committed South Africans across the class, racial and cultural spectrum 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. It must have something to do with an accumulation of events that convey the sense of impending implosion. It is the sense that events are spiralling out of control and no one among the leadership of the country seems to have a handle on things.

I should mention the one event that has dominated the national scene continuously for many months now. It is, of course, the trying events around the recent trial and acquittal of Jacob Zuma. The aftermath continues to dominate the news and public discourse. What, really, have we learnt or are learning from it all? It is probably too early to tell. Yet the drama seems far from over, promising to keep us all without relief, and in a state of anguish. It seems poised to reveal more faultlines in our national life than answers and solutions.

We need a mechanism that will affirm the different positions of the contestants validating their honesty in a way that will give the public confidence that real solutions are possible. It is this kind of openness, which never comes easily, that leads to breakthrough solutions, of the kind Moshoeshoe's wisdom symbolises.

Who will take this courageous step? What is clear is that a complex democracy like South Africa's cannot survive a single authority. Only multiple authorities within a constitutional framework have a real chance. I want to press this matter further.

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 become "the opposition". In reality, it is time we began to anticipate the arrival of a moment when there was no longer a single [overwhelmingly] dominant political force as is currently the case. Such is the course of change. The measure of the maturity of the current political environment will be in how it can create conditions that anticipate that moment rather than ones that seek to prevent it. 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 currently is 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 itself in different articulations of itself, which then contend for social influence.

In this way, the vision never really dies, it simply evolves into higher, more complex forms of itself. If the resulting versions are what is called "the opposition" that should not be such a bad thing - unless we want to invent another name for it. The image of flying ants going off to start other similar settlements is not so inappropriate.

I do not wish to suggest that the nuptial flights of the alliance partners are about to occur: only that it is a mark of leadership foresight to anticipate them conceptually. Any political movement that has visions of itself as a perpetual entity should look at the compelling evidence of history. Few 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 1990s. 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. It is not a time for repeating old platitudes. Could we apply to ourselves the same degree of inventiveness and rigorous negotiation we displayed up to the adoption or our Constitution?

Morena Moshoeshoe faced similarly formative challenges. He seems to have been a great listener. No problem was too insignificant that it could not be addressed. He seems to have networked actively across the spectrum of society. He seems to have kept a close eye on the world beyond Lesotho, forming strong friendships and alliances, weighing his options constantly. He seems to have had patience and forbearance. He had tons of data before him before he could propose the unexpected. He tells us across the years that moments of renewal demand no less.

  • This is an editied version of the inaugural Moshoeshoe Memorial Lecture presented by Univeristy of Cape Town vice-chancellor Professor Ndebele at the University of the Free State on Thursday. Perspectives on Leadership Challenges In South Africa

 

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