Mike Stopforth

I’m a young, white South African who sells social software solutions to corporate South Africa. I call myself a blogger, this is my blog.

You’ll understand why then, when I heard that “Africa’s first citizen media and blogging conference” was being held in Grahamstown, South Africa, that I wanted to be involved. I called up the conference organiser Colin Daniels and was lucky enough to land a spot on a panel that would be talking about Web 2.0.

This was the only pretext I had to the event. You see, I was pretty self-absorbed. When I thought of blogging on the African content, I had a very South African-centric, business and or marketing-related view and to be quite honest had never really allowed my narrow mind to wander beyond SA borders.

I arrived at the Indaba to discover very quickly that:

a. There were four distinct groups of humans there; namely activists, media practitioners, civil society representatives and the rest of us - the ‘deers in the headlights’. In other words, I had no clue (because I had not thought much about it) that there would be such a diverse group and set of expectations. In retrospect, this is what made the Indaba the success it was (and I’ll qualify that). In truth, I suspect many people were surprised as I was to discover how off the mark we were - I had this image of a polished ‘04-like Silicon Valley Web 2.0 rah rah bloggercon. Thank God I was wrong.

b. There had been much criticism of the event leading up the start of the event.

Bottom line: I walked away deeply moved and challenged by what my rather naive eyes were opened up to - a much bigger African blogosphere than I’d ever hoped for or imagined, and a new sense of responsibility to that if I’m going to be arrogant enough to stand up and call myself a child of Africa.

This was not necessarily a direct result of the content of the Indaba (which, by the way, was of a very high standard). It was not only because we engaged in rich debate around issues that really meant something to all of us. It was because if the quality of the interactions I had with individuals that had braved the uncertainty and uncharted-ness that first-time conference are so often characterised by to tell the stories we rather blind deer-in-the-headlights-types so desperately needed to hear.

I’d like to tell you about some of those connections. However, if you couldn’t care less for my personal experience of the individuals at DCI and simply want a synopsis of the two day’s discussion Ethan Zuckerman blogged it with commendable detail in a series of posts.

You can also check out talented photographer Gregor Rohrig’s stunning account in pictures here, the DCI blog and the DCI wiki. There are fantastic audio and visual resources at both - Ethan Zuckerman’s keynote, Vincent Maher’s kick-ass Web 2.0 preso and more.

Now to my personal account, based on what I learned from one-on-one interactions. Roughly in chronological order.

Vincent Maher taught me that two virtual strangers can be friends at a handshake and that Grahamstown is the drinking capital of the world. Ian Gilfillan reminded me of the simple potency of a deep, thoughtful smile. Peas reminded me not to take myself too seriously, ever. Mark Comerford, without ever trying to, rocked my world. He taught me that life is simply not worth living unless it is lived balls-to-the-wall. He also imparted a few expletives that were previously not part of my already impressive arsenal.

I then had the distinct pleasure of meeting the likes of Emeka Okafor, Ory Okolloh, Alaa Abd El Fattah, Andrew Heavens and Anriette Esterhuysen. These people collectively reminded me how important it was to remember my context. To remember that if I am going to call myself African, I ought to think carefully about what that means - to me and to Africa. Emeka gave advice about authenticity - “make your content compelling”. Ory, a Harvard Law graduate and activist, reminded me that age (she’s 28) should never be used as an excuse for not doing something. Alaa inspired me with his courage - using blogs and the networked power of the internet to protest Mubarak’s over twenty years in office and the potential for a family dictatorship. Andrew, a photo journalist and photo blogger living in Ethiopia, showed in heart-wrenching detail how pictures can be so much more than just a thousand words. Some of his pics, proprietary ones, were used in a YouTube-hosted protest film.

Colin Daniels, Carly Ritz, Paul Page, Gregor Rohrig, Alex Maughan, Michael Salzwedel and of course Di, reminded me how important it is to do what you love and have fun while you’re doing it. I heard regularly during the course of the Indaba that these incredible individuals (most of whom make up the New Media Lab’s fourth year class) are one of the best groups to have worked their way through the course. Two things - it must be an outstanding course, judging by the quality of their work and secondly, if you’re going to hire someone in New Media, look to hire one of these gems. They are astoundingly skilled and mature young characters.

Lastly, I want thank Ethan and Janet (and George) for an excellent chat inspired by fine beer and a serendipitous Kit Kat. You both certainly got me thinking…

So, in retrospect, was the DCI a success? I think so. And I think my non-South African compatriots, white and black, activists and journalists, might well agree. There is work to be done, for sure, but the foundation is set for greater awareness, better action and even more constructive meetings in (I hope) the near future.