The chapter explores data-related provisions in preferential trade agreements and analyzes trends and patterns in their evolution based on a comprehensive dataset. The chapter explores in particular indicators aggregated from the data that attempt to capture various salient dimensions of the data flow–related provisions in PTAs and uses those indicators to enquire into the trends over time, exploring the rule-makers’ roles through both text-as-data analyses and manual coding of data-related design features. The chapter concludes by outlining possible next research avenues in the area of digital trade governance.

As students, the cast sing a protest song and toyi-toyi on the spot, miming carrying guns.

Lenj’ uBotha isiqhel’ amasimba ngokubulalisa

Isizwe sethu

Sizozibulala ezi zinja

The three actors change back into their main characters.

MAMBHELE [speaking over the song]: Why must they come this way? Why didn't they take the other way?

MAMPOMPO: I told you a long time ago that these children are troublemakers; these songs mean trouble.

SDUDLA: It is not the songs that cause the trouble but the Casspirs.

MAMPOMPO: I can't go to my place in Crossroads and I can’t leave these chickens here. I’m afraid of dying.

MAMBHELE: What do these children want? Maybe they are going to the dead comrade's place to say a prayer.

MAMPOMPO: They were asked not to be there; they are just looking for trouble.

SDUDLA: Mampompo, you must choose which side you are on. Our children are not frightened, they criss-cross the streets from yard to yard. They are not frightened by these police. If they run they are shot; if they walk they are arrested.

MAMBHELE: Let me try and do something before these children come here. I can't lose my chickens …

MAMPOMPO: Hey, Mambhele! The children have stopped singing.

MAMBHELE: It is right on top of us.

MAMPOMPO: The plague bird is making a big wind around us and everything is moving around.

They huddle together.

SDUDLA: It has been circling over us all day waiting to snatch its prey. We see you and we are not frightened.

MAMBHELE: It won't go away until the Casspir has gone.

MAMPOMPO: Nkosi yam, it's moving away. Now maybe the children are going to another place. I’m running away now.

SDUDLA: Mampompo, if you don't stay you will find yourself carrying stones as if you never bore children.

MAMPOMPO: My children are not here, they are all in Transkei.

MAMBHELE: You are selfish.

SDUDLA: These are all our children. Can't you see we are living the lives of chickens waiting to be killed?

MAMPOMPO [turning upstage]: The Casspirs are around us. I can't go anywhere.

MAMBHELE: They are blocking off the road. They won't let the students go through.

MAMPOMPO: The children are starting to sing again.

MAMBHELE: The soldiers are giving them five minutes to disperse.

SDUDLA is singing the hymn softly as the lights go up.

SDUDLA: Hey, buy an orange and the juice will open your eyes.

MAMPOMPO [looking around downstage]: Where are the people today? It's getting late. I must sell more chickens, otherwise Mrs Ntlebi will give me the sack.

MAMBHELE: Why don't you sell your chickens on credit?

MAMPOMPO: Hayi, hayi, Mambhele, you know Mrs Ntlebi won't allow me to do that.

MAMBHELE: Mampompo, can't you see that there are green flies on your chickens?

SDUDLA: Hayi, it's because your chickens are very expensive, nobody wants to buy them.

MAMPOMPO: Sdudla, do you remember that day Mrs Ntlebi came here and shouted at me because I didn't sell enough chickens?

MAMBHELE: That one, she does what she wants with you, pays you R2 a day. Have you seen the smart car she bought herself? While you stand working here in the rain and sun, she is driving in it. What is this bonus business you are talking about?

MAMPOMPO: If I sell a lot of chickens she gives me an extra 20 cents for every chicken.

MAMBHELE: How many extra chickens?

MAMPOMPO: That depends on how she is feeling.

MAMBHELE: Now you know why I am my own boss.

MAMPOMPO: I can't afford that. At least I’m sure of my R2 a day. You don't know how much you are going to get and sometimes you sell very little, just like today.

SDUDLA starts making the sound of a helicopter. MAMBHELE and MAMPOMPO join in. They mime as if it is flying overhead and duck as it goes past.

SDUDLA: There must be trouble somewhere, that bird has been flying over us all day.

MAMPOMPO: Don't let it come here, let it happen in the other townships. Mrs Ntlebi will deduct money from me if anything happens to her chickens.

MAMBHELE: People say her house in the township is beautiful – just like a white person’s. Why don't you leave her?

MAMPOMPO: Shit, it's nice working here. I’m even used to this brutal murder. I even dream about the sound of chickens.

SDUDLA [makes the sound of chickens, making fun of the other two]: Chickens, chickens.

MAMPOMPO: Thula, Sdudla. Thula, Sdudla.

MAMBHELE: She is starting again.

MAMPOMPO: Sdudla, go and sell somewhere else. I’m sick and tired of your nonsense.

MAMBHELE: I wish that thing would go away. I’m losing money. My chickens will be bad. Since this mzabalazo has begun my business has gone from bad to worse. Trouble here, trouble at home.

Enter SDUDLA.

SDUDLA: You think the struggle started now? It started a long time ago. It started with our foreFATHERs, Hintsa, Ngqika, Mshweshwe and Dingane.

MAMPOMPO: Sdudla, what are you talking about? Are you telling me about men who are dead a long time ago? Is Dingane going to help me now to get to Crossroads?

SDUDLA: If you don't want to listen now it does not matter, but the day will come when you will listen.

MAMPOMPO: Mambhele, it's better for you because your house is not so far from here. How am I going to get to Crossroads? There is no transport. Nozulu won't listen to this story. I haven't even cooked for him.

MAMBHELE: My house is near, but when the trouble starts it is difficult to get there. I’m standing here thinking of my two sons. Did they come home safe from school?

SDUDLA: When there is a blockade here, Langa, Nyanga, Gugulethu, it is everywhere. No one can get in, and no one can get out.

MAMPOMPO: I’m waiting for Mrs Ntlebi to come and give me my money. She must give me R2. She will say something because I sold few chickens. There is no bonus today for me. The money that Nozulu and I earn is not enough for us to live on, never mind sending to my children in Transkei. I last sent money home three months ago and it wasn't enough. I wonder how they are managing.

MAMBHELE: I don't know who to contact first if I want money – the whole township is full of my debts; people are getting tired of lending me money. I was hoping to make a big profit so that I can buy my younger son a pair of shoes and pay back some of the people I owe money to. [She jokes.] Hayi mfazi, I’ve been thinking my children will be social workers, lawyers, doctors. He wethu, I can't even afford to buy a pair of shoes, ha!

MAMPOMPO: He mfazi zala uzoxoxa. I thought that my children would be teachers and nurses, but I don't have money to feed them.

MAMBHELE: I wouldn't stay at that job. Yaw, men think we are toys for them to play with. No, no! That's why I told my husband to go, but he doesn't want to.

SDUDLA: These men think they can control us. I remember attending meetings a long time ago where men stood up and said that the government could not give us black women passes because that woman is under the control of a man. They thought we would not listen to them anymore.

MAMPOMPO: Ja, the man is the head of the house, you do what he says – it is our tradition.

MAMBHELE: You people from Transkei are old fashioned. Aren't we working hard, earning the money to support our children? Must we still do what they say?

SDUDLA: Mampompo, for years now we black women have been fighting for our rights. It is a long, hard struggle. We are treated like children by everyone, but as wives and mothers it falls upon us to make small wages stretch a long way. It is we who feel the cries of our children when they are sick and hungry. It suits the men to keep us like fools.

MAMPOMPO: Sdudla, you are mad! There must be something wrong with you upstairs. You have never taken a pass, always working here in this place, and now you want me to tell my husband what to do … Hayi uyandinyela. You are shitting on me.

MAMBHELE: Everyone is telling you what to do – your MADAM, the Boer, your black boss, your husband … when are you going to do something by yourself?

MAMPOMPO: Nonsense! I told myself to come to Cape Town. If I don't like a job I can leave.

SDUDLA: What job can you get? [No answer.] Mampompo? You see you are qualified for nothing and you will do what others tell you your whole life.

MAMBHELE [to a customer]: Mamqwambi mfazi, you know very well I don't give credit near the end of the month. No, I can't hear about problems. Everybody living under this system has got problems. You still owe me money from last month. If you give me the money you will get a chicken. [Sarcastically] You think I can give you another?

MAMPOMPO as FATHER. She wears a hat used to denote the character. SDUDLA as NOMA. NOMA runs into the house from outside to count her money. FATHER walks with a stick, has a limp, mimes smoking a cigarette. He comes into the room while NOMA is counting the money.

FATHER: Hello, Noma.

NOMA [hiding the money]: Hello, Tata.

FATHER: You know your FATHER loves you very much, you look just like me. How was your business today?

NOMA: It went very well, Tata.

FATHER: How many chicken heads and legs did you sell today?

NOMA: About 30 legs and 20 heads.

FATHER: Mmmm, how much did you make?

NOMA: I don't know, I didn't count it yet.

FATHER: Your mother was just joking, give it to your Tata. I will count it.

NOMA: But Tata uyazi, if I give you this money Mama will give me a good hiding.

FATHER: Noma, give me the money, my friend is waiting for me. Give me the money so that I can go and buy something and we can cook before your mother comes home.

NOMA: Where are you going to, Tata?

FATHER: I am going to Madlamini's place with my friend.

NOMA [withdrawing]: You want me to give you Mama’s money?

FATHER [pulling the girl towards him]: Look, Noma, I’m the boss in this bloody house. Your mother took my name. Remember the shoes I bought you.

NOMA [cringing]: Yes I do, Tata. But you are not working now.

FATHER: I’m going to get a job soon and then I will buy you a dress.

NOMA: When will that be, Tata?

FATHER: Soon, soon, my child, come to your FATHER and give me the money.

NOMA shakes her head and tries to run away, mumbling under her breath. FATHER catches her.

FATHER: Don't be silly. Give me the money and I will give you some back.

NOMA [shaking her head and mumbling under her breath]: But Tata, my mother will give me a big punishment. I can’t.

FATHER: You are only 12 years old and you want to give me orders in my house. Give me the money. Give me the money!

They struggle and he takes the money. NOMA cries.

FATHER: Don't worry, I’ll bring some back.

He exits and NOMA sobs, going down on her hands and knees.

A blue light placed centre stage swivels round and three shadowy figures run on stage making the sound of a helicopter. The three women huddle together centre stage continuing the sound of the helicopter. They focus on the light in fear, then split up and run in different directions, continuing the sound. SDUDLA runs upstage on the rostrum, MAMBHELE downstage right, MAMPOMPO downstage left. A dim light comes up on SDUDLA, who is standing upstage centre.

SDUDLA [speaking over the sound of the helicopter]: In the dead of the night there comes a plague bird …

MAMPOMPO: Hateful bird!

MAMBHELE: Ugly bird!

SDUDLA: … that runs above the location. The whistle blows, the people fear, mothers hush their children back to sleep, lock the doors. They creep, for that bird takes away our innocent sons and daughters. [During the speech the helicopter light fades.] At the heart of the location the bird lands. Quietness fills the whole location, weeping mothers protect their children as chickens protect their chicks from the hawk.

The sound of the helicopter breaks through and the women run around the stage looking for their children.

All is quiet.

SDUDLA [anguished]: Nyanisa, Nyanisa, Nyanisa, my child.

MAMBHELE: Titi, uphi? Titi, where are you?

MAMPOMPO: Mendo uphi na lo mntwana, Mendo uphi?

MAMBHELE: Hide, Titi. Come and hide, my child!

MAMPOMPO: Hide, Mendo. Hide, hide!

SDUDLA: Hide, Nyanisa, hide!

MAMPOMPO [a cry]: M-E-N-D-O!

SDUDLA: There was a full moon in the location. Knocking at the door was the man without pity. He took my child – when I gave birth to her I was happy for a moment when pains of labour arrived for I thought I was delivering a baby, but I wasn’t. It was a victim of oppression.

MAMPOMPO and MAMBHELE mime picking up stones to throw at the helicopter. The women begin to sing, pointing at the helicopter.

ALL: Le ntaka, Ndizal’ abantwana, Ndizal’ amakhosi Iya kufik’ ibatshabalalise.

Blackout.

The cast makes the sounds of Casspirs, Hippos and the singing of ‘Die Stem’.

MAMPOMPO: Nazi! Nazi! A Hippo! They are coming to our township like a line of ants. [She sings ‘Die Stem’.]

SDUDLA: What law is this? What race of men? What is this? You make weapons to give you the strength that you lack; you enslave us, whip us, use chains or guns at your pleasure. Do you think we are cows to go on bearing children for you to yoke or kill? What you are unable to create you destroy.

MAMBHELE: Hey! White boy, what are you thinking of, as you sit there like a king on top of the Casspir? Have you forgotten your black mother, who cleaned up your vomit when you were sick?

MAMPOMPO: Or dried your tears when you were crying? We kissed the sores and scratches on your small body to make them better, because your white mother was too busy playing tennis, or shopping.

MAMBHELE: How many of your shit nappies have I changed? You have shown us what you want in our township … killing only!

MAMPOMPO: Our children grow up with hate and fear.

MAMBHELE: They have spoilt our children. They have shown them things that children shouldn't know about. To kill without respect for a human life.

MAMPOMPO: They have torn our families apart – everything is upside down.

MAMBHELE: It is the children who are telling the parents what to do.

MAMPOMPO: Didn't I tell you about these children? Running around the township, no mothers to look after them. Growing up with no laws.

SDUDLA: These, my children, who spill blood as easy as saying voetsek; created by the system and the men in blue who protect it. These are not the children who we laboured to give birth to and held in our arms but the monsters created by the system of oppression.

MAMPOMPO: Thula, thula. I hear voices.

MAMBHELE: There is someone speaking from the bird in the sky.

MAMPOMPO: I can't hear what he is saying – thula! Thula!

SDUDLA [going to sit on a drum]: Ag man, once they speak from the bird I know that they are only giving us orders. Don't listen to them.

MAMPOMPO: And there was this small window.

Light dims. She turns and knocks twice on the imaginary window upstage centre. SDUDLA, as OLD LADY, enters, bumping MAMPOMPO.

MAMPOMPO: She is supposed to be open now.

MAMBHELE turns, changes into PRETENTIOUS WOMAN and joins the queue. The women queue, waiting for the post office to open, eyes fixed on the tiny window. They push and shove.

MAMPOMPO: Molo. [She waves and pushes backwards.] Sontombi [pushing forward]. How are you today? Good. Good. Are you also coming for this? [She indicates money.] This is my fifth month now coming here. [OLD LADY hits the person next to her. MAMPOMPO falls backwards.] My fifth month – Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays. I was very worried about my children. [She faces the audience.] What are they going to eat tonight?

PRETENTIOUS WOMAN is pushed by OLD LADY.

OLD LADY: Ah, it's very hot in here. I can't take it any longer. How long have you been here Noni sisi?

Both face forward, OLD LADY trying to get air.

MAMPOMPO: Long time I’ve been here, Granny.

OLD LADY: She should have opened by now.

MAMPOMPO: Who sends you money?

OLD LADY: Mm? I can't hear, my child.

MAMPOMPO: Who sends you money? Ngubani okuthumelela imali?

OLD LADY: My son.

MAMPOMPO: Where is your daughter-in-law?

OLD LADY: Mm?

MAMPOMPO: Where is your daughter-in-law? Uphi umolokazana wakho?

OLD LADY? UseKapa. She's in Cape Town with her husband. I’m looking after my two grandchildren. Please people, stop making this noise, otherwise I won't hear her footsteps when she is coming. You know [she pushes to the right], my son promised to send me money last month but I didn't get it, that's why I am here. [She pushes PRETENTIOUS WOMAN, who is getting visibly angrier.]

MAMPOMPO: Ahh.

Distracted, she turns to the window.

OLD LADY: I don't know what happened to him.

PRETENTIOUS WOMAN: How long must I stand here like a fool waiting for my money? Makhulu sukundiphusha. Don't push me! Five years ago I left you people like this and you’re still the same. Nothing changes here in the Transkei.

She exits with a flourish.

A PATRIARCHAL SOCIETY

Before 1996

The position of women, both black and white, in South Africa at the beginning of the 20th century was subordinate to that of men, who took all major decisions both in society at large and within the home.

African women did not enjoy the same legal status as men, under either the statuary laws or the enforced version of customary law. A black woman was deemed to be a perpetual minor in law and had no independent powers. Under customary law women remain perpetual minors under the guardianship of their FATHER before marriage and their husband after marriage. A woman could not marry without the consent of her guardian. She had no contractual capacity and could not acquire or dispose of property. Black women in South Africa suffered from both the disability of apartheid and the oppression of gender and class.

After 1996

The Bill of Rights, a cornerstone of democracy in South Africa, recognises women as equal citizens enjoying all the rights guaranteed by Section 9 of the South African Constitution of 1996.

Despite the progress made with regard to the rights of women and their access to education, they are still more likely than men to be employed in low-skilled occupations. This difference is driven by the fact that many are still employed as DOMESTIC WORKERs, who experience the highest poverty rates and rely on income grants from government to make ends meet. Gender-based violence remains a profound and widespread problem in South Africa, having an impact on almost every aspect of life. It is systemic and deeply entrenched in institutions, cultures and traditions.

BANTUSTANS/‘HOMELANDS’

The Transkei was one of the Bantustans or ‘homelands’ established by the apartheid government, to which many black people were moved to prevent them from living in the urban areas of South Africa. The idea was to separate black people from white and give them the responsibility of running their own independent governments with limited powers, thus denying them protection and any remaining rights in South Africa.

TOGETHER [in the rhythm of a train]: Chook-chook-chook- WORK

Chook-chook-chook-WORK

Chook-chook-chook-WORK

chorus: Work-work, work-work-work;

Work-work, work-work-work;

Work-work, work-work-work;

Work-work, work-work-work.

MAMPOMPO [walking across the stage as MADAM]: Oh Florence, late for work again! I really can't have this, you know. You are unreliable – either you are late or you have got some weak excuse for taking days off and then you expect to be paid. I think it best you leave.

MAMBHELE: Madam, I had to take my child to the clinic, the doctor doesn't know what is the matter with her.

MADAM: You must understand that I work as well and I simply can't have someone who is unreliable. Who will be here when my children come home from school? I never know where I am with you, Florence. I’ll give you your money and you must go.

TOGETHER: Chook-chook-chook-WORK

Chook-chook-chook-WORK

Chook-chook-chook-WORK

Lights change.

SDUDLA [as SUPERVISOR]: Listen, sisi, if you want a contract as a cleaner in an office building …

ALL TOGETHER: Work!

SUPERVISOR: … you must be prepared to work the early morning shift.

ALL TOGETHER: Work!

SUPERVISOR: You will have one floor to clean; five toilets.

MAMBHELE: The toilets are so big a family could live in them. Two kitchens bigger than my whole house.

SUPERVISOR: You must start with emptying the dustbins and ashtrays, then dust, even the pictures on the wall.

ALL TOGETHER: Work!

SUPERVISOR: The pay is R70 a week.

ALL TOGETHER: Work!

SUPERVISOR: Do you want the job?

MAMBHELE: What can I say? I need the money. I can't refuse the work.

ALL TOGETHER: Work! Work! Work! Work!

The actors begin to mime various activities in a laundry to a regular rhythmical count of four. SDUDLA is ironing sheets, MAMPOMPO is sorting washing into trolleysand MAMBHELE is working with a heavy pressing machine. All their actions are stylised. They make a sound expelling air to co-ordinate with downward movements. The rhythm continues throughout the sequence.

MAMPOMPO and SDUDLA: Work, work, work, work.

MAMBHELE: I was pleased to get this job at the laundry.

MAMPOMPO and SDUDLA [speeding up the rhythm]: Work, work, work, work.