#khoisan

[afrotumble]

Katrina Esau (87) is the last remaining South African who can speak the ancient Khoisan San language N|uu, which is said to be 25 000 years old.

Last month she published a children’s book in her mother tongue, titled '!Qhoi n|a Tjhoi' ('Tortoise & Ostrich'/'Skilpad en Volstruis').

Congratulations Katrina. 🥰😍

[kemetic-dreams]

[blackbrownfamily]

[oratilwemotlapele]

Sarwa boy playing the guitar

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"Like other Khoisan ex-convicts in Van Diemen’s Land, Witnalder had no means by which he could return home. He was destitute after being discharged from the convict system and became an object of ridicule to certain elements within the local populace. On 10 September 1862, he was before the bench on yet another charge of disturbing the peace. The Police Superintendent told the bench that Witnalder was ‘constantly insulted by idle boys’. Another witness, Mr Jones, said that he had seen Witnalder ‘insulted by mischievous boys’. Despite such evidence of bullying, the Stipendary Magistrate found the prisoner guilty and fined him 1 shilling. Superintendent Propsting took pity on the man and immediately paid the fine, kindly preventing Witnalder being returned to prison (from which he had only recently been released) for defaulting. Following a similar incident in early December 1862, Witnalder appeared before the bench to answer another charge of disturbing the peace. The ‘eccentric little Kaffir, well-known for his military peculiarities’ told the court that some boys had annoyed him thus causing the fracas. Provocation was not considered sufficient mitigation of his alleged crime. Witnalder was fined 10 shillings and costs, and was required to serve fourteen days in prison if he failed to come up with the money. Several weeks later, on 23 December 1862, Witnalder appeared before the Stipendary Magistrate AB Jones Esq, and Captain Bateman at the Police Court along with a 14-year-old boy, William (or Henry as his name was also reported) Collard. Both were charged with committing an ‘unnatural offence’ and were committed to face trial. The prisoners spent Christmas 1862 in gaol waiting to learn their respective fates. Witnalder and Collard (now referred to as Cornwall Collins) stood trial on Wednesday 28 January in the Supreme Court before the Chief Justice, Sir Valentine Fleming. In keeping with the sensibilities of the time, the newspapers reporting the case found the details to be ‘quite unfit for publication’. Nevertheless, the boy had legal representation and much was made in evidence over whether the boy’s mouth had been covered by Witnalder as the ‘unnatural offence’ (sodomy) was being committed. It was found that the boy had allegedly been silenced by the other prisoner, Witnalder, and was therefore a victim rather than a co-conspirator. The police constable was reprimanded for withholding this crucial evidence from the court. Collard was found not guilty, but retained in custody to bear witness against the older man. He was then sworn in, and tearfully gave evidence that he had been assaulted by Witnalder and had not consented to the man’s attentions. The boy’s ordeal in the stand lasted an hour, following which other witnesses were called. The jury retired for only ten minutes before returning a ‘guilty’ verdict. Witnalder once again faced the extreme penalty of the law.

On Thursday 5 February 1863, the Executive Council met and considered Witnalder’s case. It resolved that the death penalty would be carried into effect. Some members of the public expressed outrage (albeit muted because of the nature of the prisoner’s alleged offence). The local Hobart newspaper implored ‘the Councillors of the Governor with whom rests the prerogative of mercy, to weigh well all the circumstances’. A submission from an unnamed advocate was reprinted in the Mercury’s columns, comparing Witnalder’s predicament with Summers who after being convicted of sodomy in July 1862 had his death sentence commuted to transportation for life. Summers, the writer contended, had been in ‘full possession of his senses’. The injustice in upholding the death sentence upon Witnalder, a man ‘little better than a savage’ was made apparent: ‘Summers is surely more responsible than this half tamed brute. And as Summers was not hung, will not the sacrifice of Whitnalder’s [sic] life be a Judicial or rather an Executive Murder?’ The appeal failed, and several days later the Mercury reported that Summer’s case had ‘special circumstances’ which did not apply to Witnalder’s. The reading public was assured that despite the public deploring the application of the death penalty, the Executive had considered all facets of Witnalder’s case in minute detail before deciding to uphold his sentence. The under-sheriff visited Witnalder at the Hobart Town Gaol to read the warrant for his execution. While there, he found the Protestant prisoner mistakenly had been attended by the Roman Catholic clergy since being condemned. On Friday 20 February 1863, Witnalder was roused from his cell at three thirty to prepare for death. He was joined by the Reverend Mr Hunter, who guided him in prayer. By eight that morning, a small crowd comprising the under-sheriff, keeper and under-keeper of the gaol, eight police constables and their sub-inspector, and reporters from the daily newspapers had assembled at the gaol. The only other witness was a Mr Lowe from Victoria. Witnalder emerged from his cell in Hunter’s company, the prisoner’s arms pinioned at his sides. The prayerful men were followed by the executioner. Because of Witnalder’s diminutive size, heavy weights were attached to his feet so he would not suffer more than was necessary. Witnalder ‘saluted’ the onlookers with ‘an abrupt bow’, before the cap was drawn over his head, the noose adjusted, and the flooring removed from under his feet. He was said to have died easily, and had asked Hunter to tell those gathered that he was innocent of the crime for which he had suffered." - Kristyn Harman, Aboriginal Convicts: Australian, Khoisan and Māori Exiles. Sydney: University of New South Wales Press, 2012. p. 188-192.

[dargression]

"This film focuses on the uncertainties and inhumane acts of police and state brutality faced by the predominantly Rastafarian, KhoiSan identifying community of Hangberg in Cape Town, South Africa."

watched a few minutes, heartbreaking but captivating. this guy speaks such strong truths. I didn't know the realities of communities living in Cape Town. Such beautiful mountains and the sea right next to them, yet such strong oppression pushing itself in between. recommending for a dinner watch or something

[harrycosmo]

Took these screenshots from three episodes of ‘Tribes, Predators & Me’ years ago when it was on TV.

1. Kids of the Solomon Islands 2. San mother and daughter 3. Papuan girl

[kimludcom]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by David Meihuizen (@talltravler)

[islandofspice]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by NILEVALLEYHISTORY (@nilevalleyhistory)

The San people also have the epithetic fold of the Asian eye - they have genetic features of all the world’s people.

[daydreaming-in-daisies]

Baby faces of the San tribe ♡ ♡ ♡

[oratilwemotlapele]

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"At the end of 1809, a group of prisoners escaped from Robben Island probably using a whale boat to reach the mainland. The escapees included both Stuurman brothers and their two companions. After splitting up to help avoid detection, Bootsman Stuurman was recaptured. However, David Stuurman, Michiel and Wildschut, managed to rejoin the Xhosa. A long stand-off ensued, during which time Governor Cuyler tried to entice Stuurman to surrender but to no avail. Stuurman lived among the Xhosa throughout the fourth and fifth frontier wars and was not recaptured until near the end of 1819 after being at large for a decade.

Stuurman was returned to Robben Island at the end of December 1819. Following another escape in August 1820, Stuurman was recaptured and sentenced to be transported for life to New South Wales. After being forced to watch as some of his surviving fellow escapees (some died during the attempt) were flogged, branded or hanged, Stuurman was returned temporarily to Robben Island until room could be found on a convict transport to convey him to the Australian penal colonies. Under the Dutch, it had been possible for Cape Colony officials to banish miscreants. But under the English, the option of transporting convicts to the Australian penal colonies became a possibility. As early as 1815, Governor Somerset at the Cape requested permission from London to have people transported from the Colony to New South Wales. In response, the Admiralty instructed convict transports to stop at the Cape.7Cape Colony courts found transportation a particularly attractive option in dealing with its various non-European populations. Sending Khoisan, slaves and others across the ocean with little hope of ever returning home provided a much more exemplary punishment than simply shipping them to Robben Island, in sight of Table Bay. Even a sentence to seven years’ transportation to the Australian penal colonies effectively became a life sentence. The few Australian Aboriginal convicts who survived incarceration were repatriated when their sentence expired, but Khoisan were simply left to their own devices.

Overcrowding and illness on convict transports meant that it could be a long wait between sentencing and the sentence of transportation actually being carried into effect. Stuurman remained at the Cape following his 2 September 1820 trial through to February 1823 when the Brampton arrived at Table Bay. The transport had sufficient room to take on board convicts from the Cape.

Another of the fourteen convicts loaded onto the Brampton with Stuurman was also described as a ‘Hottentot’, Jantje Piet, convicted for murder. Piet was to have been executed on 29 April 1820, but the Governor of Port Elizabeth, Sir Rufane Donkin, ‘did not think it decorous’ to carry the sentence into effect because this was the day on which the accession to the throne of King George IV was proclaimed at the Cape of Good Hope. Instead, Donkin granted the man a respite and wrote to Earl Bathurst, Secretary for War and the Colonies, for consent to have Piet’s sentence commuted to transportation to New South Wales.

On 28 July 1822, the Brampton sailed from London under the command of Master Sam Moore, a violent and abusive man, and with Surgeon Superintendent Morgan Price on board. Its cargo was to comprise Irish men under sentences ranging from seven years to life, as well as several free settlers. Most were from the labouring classes, with occupations ranging from errand boy, shearer and ploughman to brogue maker, music dancing master and linen weaver. Some were known to be rebels. Many had already spent a considerable time in gaol prior to departing from the Cove of Cork on 8 November 1822. The convicts were guarded by a detachment of the Third Regiment (Buffs) during the voyage."

- Kristyn Harman, Aboriginal Convicts: Australian, Khoisan and Māori Exiles. Sydney: University of New South Wales Press, 2012. p. 156-157.