Before you yell at me, or call me all sorts of names, let me explain that I am also a black professional.

I am writing you this letter to invite you for a frank conversation about transformation. In particular, about our role in transforming our workplaces.  

Earlier this year, I wrote an article, Our Black Professionals are Apologists of a White Supremacy, published on(line) Sowetan, a weekly South African newspaper. Weighing in on student protests over financial exclusion, bilingual medium of instruction (Afrikaans and English), and other contentious issues on transformation at our institutions of higher education, I said, “For a change, let us forget about the African National Congress (ANC) and its failures and focus on our universities and their failures to transform. Let us forget about … President Jacob Zuma and his failures, and focus on his critics, the black professionals at the universities who are good at criticising him, but not so good when it comes to transforming their own institutions.”

The article goes on to pose the question: “What is it that our black professionals, especially the so-called political analysts, are doing to transform these institutions?” This is the question that, we, the black professionals, who work for a white monopoly capital should ask ourselves and have a frank conversation about it.

Nearly a fortnight later, two prominent black South African academics, Tinyiko Maluleke and Xolela Mangu, also weighed in on the student protests. In the article, Someone Please Dial 911 for Varsities, Maluleke, who is an African spirituality and culture lecturer at the University of Pretoria (UP), calls for an “external help” to resolve the students’ grievances. In particular, he is calling on the government, non-governmental organisations (NGOs), the chapter nine institutions, parents, and ordinary citizens to intervene.

Ironically, Maluleke, who also serves as an assistant to principal and vice-chancellor Cherly de la Rey, does not explain what he has done to transform the universities where he held numerous executive positions. Before joining the UP, he was deputy vice-chancellor at the University of Johannesburg (UJ). He also served in various capacities at the University of South Africa (UNISA).

Mangu, an author and sociology lecturer at the University of Cape Town (UCT), where the black students had erected a shack to highlight a shortage of residential accommodation, does the same in the article, UCT Needs Leaders, Not Managers. He does not explain what he has done to transform the university. Instead, he blames vice-chancellor Max Price for the shortage of residential accommodation and a lack of transformation at the university. I do, however, concur with him that our institutions of higher education need leaders, not managers.

Instead of engaging the students on their grievances, for example, the university managements reinforced the security in the campuses and ran to courts to seek orders against the protests. In some instances, the university managements engaged the students through the media. This did not surprise me, though, as our country is in a palpable leadership crisis across the board, both in private and public sector, as well as the civil society. In contrast, the students showed a great deal of leadership throughout the protests, setting aside their political affiliations and spoke with one audible voice to demand a no fees-increase for the 2016 academic year.

Taking Mangu’s assertion further, Rick Joyner differentiates a manager from a leader in the book, Leadership, Management, and Five Essentials of Success. He says a manager is more “detail-oriented,” whereas a leader is more “concept-oriented”. A leader should be able to conceptualise a bigger picture to solve a problem at hand.

The question, therefore, begs itself as to whether the black professionals who hold executive positions in the white monopoly capital, including the institutions of higher education, are able to conceptualise a transformational project and a role they should play thereof to transform their workplaces in order to reflect the country’s demographics. As the black professionals, we should have a frank conversation about this question.

Since our democratic dispensation in 1994, transformation has been a buzzword, both in corporate sector and sports, especially cricket, rugby, and other predominantly white-dominated sporting codes. Yet not much has been said as to what really constitute transformation. Is it when a company has employed many black executives, even if they earn six times less than their fewer white counterparts on the same executive level and lack an executive authority to make independent decisions? Alternatively, is it when a sport team comprises more black players than the white ones, despite a quality of talent thereof? Neither of the two hypothetical questions symbolises a transformed South Africa.

A true symbolism of transformation is a company or a sport team that comprises a diverse workforce with equitable opportunities across different levels of development. Therefore, to strive for “a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunity,” as envisaged by our late-former President Nelson Mandela, we, the black professionals, should unapologetically wage a struggle against a white supremacy, which primarily manifest itself into an institutional racism, also known as an institutionalised racism, at our workplaces. This would require us to draw a lesson from the students, set aside our levels of education and hierarchy, political affiliations, or any other difference we may have, unite and speak with one audible voice against the institutional racism and its subtle forms. After all, we bear the same pain, although its degree differs from one person to the other.

As defined by Keith Lawrence and Terry Keleher in a paper, Chronic Disparity: Strong and Pervasive Evidence of Racial Inequalities, the institutional racism “is a discriminatory treatment, unfair policies and inequitable opportunities and impacts, based on race, produced and perpetuated by institutions (schools, mass media, etc.).” From this definition, one can add that it exists mostly, as I have alluded to earlier, in a form of salary disparity to maintain an apartheid legacy. That is, a white privilege trampling over a black pain.

In the article, Accelerate Change, published on City Press, Black Management Forum (BMF) president Mncane Mthunzi proposes a five-point plan to accelerate a pace of transformation. The one that inescapably caught my attention is litigating companies that disregard the Employment Equity Act and the Broad-Based BEE Act to explain their recruitment policies and decisions.

From a legislative perspective, the ANC-government has thus far played its part to transform a corporate South Africa. The onus now lies with us, the black professionals, to transform our workplaces. Again, we should draw a lesson from the students who waged the war against their own institutions, as opposed to the government, which is playing its part through the NSFAS, although it is insufficient to pay for all the students.

Instead of fighting against the institutional racism and its subtle forms, Mthunzi and his BMF coterie want the white monopoly capital favour the black South Africans for CEO and other executive positions. Offering them these positions without the executive authority to make independent decisions amounts to a transformational grandstanding. Offering them these positions and pay them six times less than their white counterparts on the same executive levels amounts to an exploitation. Transformation should happen across different corporate levels with equitable opportunities, from a cleaner to a CEO. Our role is this regard as the black professionals is to wage the struggle on transformation from an institutional perspective.

Molifi Tshabalala is the author of the book: The Thoughts of an Ordinary Citizen