When I first moved to South Africa six years ago, I was given some rather daunting advice by a fellow journalist for the state broadcaster, SABC.
As we waited for a press conference to start, she informed me that because I was white, black South Africans would hate me; because I was English, the Afrikaners would hate me; and because I was female and a journalist, the politicians and functionaries of the ruling African National Congress would hate me.
Thankfully, her prediction has turned out to be largely pessimistic. If black South Africans or Afrikaners hate me, they hide it well. It’s true that ANC politicians and functionaries aren’t enamoured, but I think it’s probably because I’m a foreign journalist and write articles highlighting corrupt and crony governance, and the national embarrassment their chosen President Jacob Zuma has become.
This week, the President prompted howls of outrage when he told a group of female journalists – as his wife, Tobeka Madiba Zuma, and young daughter stood by – that because he lived in a “white man’s society”, he could not compliment them as he might wish to.
Mr Zuma, a polygamist with four wives, said that even an “innocent” comment he might make could be construed as harassment in this “modern” world – and as a result, he had to rein in his bodyguards when they too might want to make a play towards attractive females in his orbit. He also cautioned that as a result, the women would miss out on “good men and marriage”.
But Mr Zuma is far from alone in such views in macho South Africa where first Afrikaans, then Zulu and Xhosa cultures, hold men to be superior and virility is prized.
There are some pleasant sides to this. Female beauty is celebrated and women here of all shapes and sizes dress up to the nines with confidence and splendour. If you try to lift a heavy load, the chances are a man will spring forward to help. And given that crime is rampant, men are often sweetly protective about ensuring female friends and colleagues get home safely.
But on the flipside, barely a week goes by when I am not encouraged by a car mechanic, technician or government department to put them in touch with my husband – or, if they want to project a veneer of political correctness, the “homeowner”.
I can push for weeks for something to get done before a single phone call from my husband gets miraculous results. Just moments ago, I overheard our nanny tell him that she was washing up so that “Mama Ash” – who was in her office writing an article – didn’t have to do it later.
Sometimes, particularly in rural areas, I find that men will speak to my male photographer rather than me, even if I’m the one asking the questions. Female friends have commiserated that they’re often invisible next to men.
That said, I have rarely been on the receiving end of the kind of attentions Mr Zuma might like to deliver were he allowed to – far fewer in fact than I ever experienced while working in the UK.
It’s possible that having babies since I’ve moved here has made a difference: ‘Mamas’, as they are known here, hold a special place in the African heart and command a level of respect our more toned pre-child women may not.
My adoptive countrymen might correct me, but I also think being a foreigner has something to do with it – there’s perhaps an added layer of deference in interactions that make such come-ons more unlikely.
Local women, however, have no such luck. This afternoon, I conducted a straw poll on Facebook and within minutes received a deluge of responses about the most horrifying behaviour my friends have had to put up with.
One was told by a high-level government spokesman that she had to sleep with him before he got married “because I’ve never had sex with a mlungu (white woman)”.
“We were stone-cold sober and in a work environment,” she added.
Another, in PR, called a male colleague to ask for some information she needed for work and was told that she could only have it if she had sex with him. She assumed he was joking and repeated the request a few weeks later, only to receive the same – deadly serious – response.
Our nanny is currently house-hunting and on two occasions was told that to supplement her modest rental offering she could go to bed with the landlord as well.
Such behaviour becomes all the darker when you consider that South Africa has one of the highest rape rates in the world. According to crime statistics for 2014/15, a total of 53, 617 sexual offences were reported to the South African police that year – that’s 147 cases a day (and they’re just the reported ones).
As with everything in South Africa, race comes into it.
First Citizen Zuma showed an awareness of this by saying he lived in a “white man’s society”, suggesting that South Africa’s race-dominated politics has denied him his cultural right as a prolific Zulu male.
Violence in South African parliament as opposition challenge President Jacob Zuma over corruptionPlay!00:34
Mr Zuma has form on playing the culture card: during his trial for therape of an HIV-positive family friend, for which he was acquitted, he said (in Zulu) that in his culture a woman only wore a short skirt if she wanted sex.
What the president knows only too well is that if he equates misogyny with his nation’s culture, people are often too nervous to criticise for fear of being labelled racist – something inexcusable in all contexts but particularly given South Africa’s painful past.
What redress then, is there for women who have been harassed, and subject to sexism in South Africa? Not much by all accounts, it seems that mostly women put up and shut up – or engage in some Twitter shaming at worst.
South Africa has a strong union culture and civil society groups that provide support. But for the most part, sexism is the poor relation to the more universally accepted evil of racism.
That – along with the country’s sky high unemployment rates, endemic poverty, violent crime and widespread corruption – means that sexual innuendo and sleaze end up at the back of the queue.