Before we talk about water, perhaps we need to talk about respect, because somewhere along the way, Spring Day, as it is now practised in some parts of our society, has lost much of what should make a celebration meaningful. What was once associated with the arrival of spring has, for many, become an excuse to invade another person’s space, drench strangers and laugh at their discomfort, all under the assumption that because it is the first day of September, everyone should simply accept being part of the festivities.
I know what that feels like because I have a personal memory that goes back to when I was a teenager. I remember walking home from school one Spring Day when I was ambushed and splashed with water. I fell face first in front of my peers, with my underwear exposed, and the humiliation of that moment has stayed with me far longer than I had thought it would.
What made the experience even more difficult was that the incident did not end when I picked myself up from the ground. I still had to walk home with soaked clothes and schoolbooks, knowing that my homework had been ruined and the explanation I had to give of what had happened. At the time, I remember feeling embarrassed because I somehow felt responsible for something that had been done to me. I had not agreed to participate in anyone’s celebration, and I certainly had not given anyone permission to turn my body and my dignity into a source of entertainment.
Decades later, I still remember that day, and perhaps that is why I find it difficult to accept the argument that what happens on Spring Day is simply harmless fun. There is an important question that we seem to avoid whenever we defend this behaviour, and that is, what happens to the person on the receiving end when they do not find it funny?
I watched the outrage unfold on social media and in the mainstream media this week, over this year’s Spring Day celebrations, and, of course, I was outraged too. However, my concern goes far beyond the sheer amount of water that is wasted on a day for entertainment purposes. I am equally concerned about what this behaviour says about us as a society and about how easily we have become comfortable with the idea that another person’s dignity and personal space can be disregarded because we have collectively decided that it is all part of the fun.
It concerned me that seeing large quantities of water deliberately thrown onto strangers for entertainment is so difficult to reconcile with the reality facing millions of South Africans. While some communities continue to experience unreliable water supplies and others depend on alternative sources when municipal systems fail, we have somehow accepted that it is perfectly reasonable to use the same resource for an afternoon of entertainment.
Then came the deeply unfortunate incident in Cullinan, east of Pretoria, where a 21-year-old was reportedly stabbed to death after a group of young people allegedly tried to douse a 53-year-old neighbour with water as part of the day’s celebrations.
The circumstances surrounding the 21-year-old’s death will, quite rightly, have to be established through the appropriate processes, and we should be careful not to draw conclusions that have not been established by the authorities. But we also cannot ignore the broader lesson that this tragedy presents. When behaviour that involves invading people’s personal space, ignoring their objections and provoking strangers is repeatedly excused as harmless fun, we create an environment in which confrontation can escalate very quickly and with devastating consequences.
Ambushing strangers with water is not harmless simply because the substance being thrown is water. A person who is drenched against their will may be embarrassed, frightened or angry. Once we remove consent from the equation, we should at least be honest enough to recognise that we are no longer talking about an innocent game between people who have chosen to participate.
What concerns me even more is the way society has normalised this behaviour. We see the videos online, we laugh, we share them and, in many cases, we encourage the people involved to go even further. We have turned the discomfort of strangers into social media content and, in doing so, have helped create a culture where the person being targeted is expected to accept the humiliation for the sake of everyone else’s entertainment.
There is another part of this conversation that deserves far more attention, and that is the water itself.
South Africa is a water-scarce country, and our water challenges are becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. The reality is that every community has a role to play in protecting the water that we have.
We do not even need to look far for evidence of how stretched the system already is. When President Ramaphosa unveiled the National Water Action Plan, it was revealed that 74% of water services authorities are performing poorly or are in a critical state, and that 81% of municipal wastewater infrastructure is in a similar condition. More telling still is the finding that non-revenue water, which is treated water that is produced but lost before it ever reaches a household because of leaks, theft or faulty infrastructure, sits at an average of 47% across our municipalities.
Put plainly, that means our country is already losing close to half of the clean water it produces before a single tap in a home is opened. This is the reality we rarely think about when we watch a group of young people empty buckets of water onto strangers for entertainment.
And I must admit that government certainly has a responsibility to educate communities, and I say this as a government communicator, about water conservation, to enforce the law where necessary, and to continue investing in the infrastructure and systems required to secure South Africa’s water future. The National Water Action Plan is an important step in that direction, and the Department of Water and Sanitation has an important role to play in its implementation. But it would be unrealistic to believe that government alone can change a culture that society itself has helped create, or bring non-revenue water losses down while some of us keep adding to the problem for a few moments of fun.
Perhaps most importantly, those of us who have watched this behaviour grow over the years need to acknowledge our own role in allowing it to become normal. We cannot spend years laughing at Spring Day videos and dismissing the behaviour as something young people do, only to express shock when the situation becomes violent. If we want a different outcome, we have to change the attitude that made the behaviour acceptable in the first place.
I do not believe that Spring Day itself is the problem. There is absolutely nothing wrong with celebrating spring; what needs to change is the culture that has developed around the day, particularly the idea that people who have not consented to participate can be targeted or embarrassed simply because it is Spring Day.
We have an opportunity to change the meaning of the day, but that change will not come from government alone. It will come when parents, communities, schools, young people and all of us who have spent years treating this as harmless fun decide that respect for one another and respect for our water resources must come before entertainment.
By Lebogang Maseko – A Communicator at the Department of Water and Sanitation
