Have you ever wondered why it is that men who are happy to question everything about women, including their ability to think rationally and lead organizations intelligently and profitably, say nothing about multitasking?
I have a theory. I admit it is no science or divinely revealed knowledge, but it is a theory nevertheless.
You see, growing up in my grandmother’s house in Soweto, South Africa, I did not know that as a male child I was not inherently able to multitask.
From an early age, I was responsible for certain chores. For example, it was my responsibility to pick up litter around the yard. Later, I also became responsible for cleaning the toilet, which in the original township houses was always in a corner at the end of the yard.
With my cousins, boys and girls, we were all responsible for more than one task. We had to juggle these with playing, doing schoolwork and keeping up with the latest hits on the radio. I had to pick up my younger siblings from crèche, do my father’s dry cleaning and whatever other extra chores my mother had commanded.
While playing street soccer with my friends, I remember watching the length of the shadows to determine when my grandmother was about to arrive home, which meant that I had to run home to boil water for her tea.
My point: I had to read books to learn that as a man, I was not a natural at multitasking. This, according to mass media, happens to be a woman thing.
At first it was a disappointment. You see, I grew up in a South Africa obsessed with emphasizing how inherently different human beings were. As a result of my political consciousness, I questioned anything that suggested some people were lucky to be born with certain genes and those who were not just had to grin and bear it.
Then it dawned on me: If I had a partner whom I could praise for being a natural multitasker, my life would be so much easier.
I could get away with doing very little around the house. I would do only one thing at a time and if, for argument’s sake, it coincided with my favorite sport on TV, it would have to wait.
After all, it was not my fault. I was a mere man and therefore deprived of that which enabled women to multitask.
My partner, on the other hand, would have to do all the housework and help the kids with their homework. Even as we switched off the lights at night, her amazing ability to multitask would continue, as she worried about what to wear the next day and how to find ways of pleasing me.
Again, it was not my fault that she had been blessed with the multitasking gene, which somehow enabled her to fit so much into the finite time she had.
That was the plan.
Now that I have sons and a daughter I know it would be remiss of me to perpetuate the nonsense that men or women have special abilities that members of the opposite sex do not have.
I cannot imagine my daughter being the partner of my younger self.
My sons will be adults in the 21st century and must shed the mentality that they have a one-track mind that renders them unable to walk and chew gum at the same time. They certainly will be multitasking in my house, just like their sister.
Women have an equal responsibility to revisit the idea that multitasking is in their blood. It might mean they can take on a lot simultaneously, but as leaders and managers it also diminishes their ability to delegate. These women often end up being surrounded by people who do not trust them.
In an ever-changing world, we have to think on our feet and think laterally. I cannot imagine any organization that hopes to thrive by accepting that only certain people can be trusted with doing more than one task at a time. And not because they are lousy at their work, but because the dice simply rolled unfortunately for them.
Of course, women can choose to believe that multitasking is their divinely given privilege. From where I sit, the beneficiaries of such a belief will be lazy and inept men, while women become superwomen.
I cannot speak for women, but in my experience, women of whom a lot is demanded become increasingly resentful and grumpy. And eventually, the quality of their work or their family life suffers.
You do not need a degree in medicine to know that unhappiness is infectious. And you certainly do not need an MBA to know that any organ-ization made up of sourpusses does not make for a great workplace.

The multitasking gene

Anastasia Tsichlas and Ria Ledwaba’s names are synonymous with football in South Africa. The two are seen as female powerhouses and adored by fans and players alike—both were owners of hugely successful Premier Soccer League (PSL) teams.
Tsichlas and Ledwaba have made names for themselves in the male-dominated football world, but women are still underrepresented in all areas of the sport. Even the South African Football Association (Safa) is lacking on this front—most of its senior management is male.
“We want to see transformation. As the first woman to have made it in football, I felt one of my responsibilities [apart from developing soccer abilities], was to develop other women,” says Tsichlas.
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It’s not been an easy road, says Ledwaba. Being a woman involved in football meant treading a difficult path with few mentors and little sponsorship.
“Finance plays a big role in running a successful team. When I entered soccer, I entered it because that was my heart’s true calling. The environment was hostile, but I persevered because I was determined to get the best for the players and to get my team promoted to the Premier Soccer League,” says Ledwaba.
Tsichlas, the first woman in Africa to be elected to Fifa, owned Mamelodi Sundowns before it was taken over by mining magnate Patrice Motsepe and Ledwaba owned Ria Stars.
“The dream of Ria Stars was realized. My team played in the PSL for two seasons but due to lack of sponsorship I could no longer manage to run the team successfully. I’m still involved in football through the commercial committee at Safa and the Safa Women’s Soccer Committee,” says Ledwaba.
Transformation is a word both use often. Ledwaba was recently appointed deputy chairperson of the Transformation Commission set up by Sports Minister Fikile Mbalula.
Tsichlas was the general manager of Sundowns at a time when most scoffed at the mere idea of a woman holding such a position. Her strategy there was to employ women in strategic positions as a way to address the gender imbalance.
“I like to develop women not only in the sport but also in jobs with responsibilities,” she says.
Sundowns was the best team from 1990 to 2000. Tsichlas recalls endless days in the townships during the stormy 1980s—“the glory days of football,” she says.
“The power of football is tremendous. It is unbelievable how it can bring people together,” says Tsichlas.
Today, South African football is a shadow of its former self. Tsichlas says the problem lies in a lack of development and the absence of big stars.
“Big stars come from development, from the townships. We need to develop players. We can’t keep buying the best players. I’d rather have a player who came through my structures and loved the club, a player with a real hunger to play. These are players who have soccer in their hearts and not in their pockets,” says Tsichlas.
Ledwaba says the country has world-class facilities, but development lags.
“Transformation is required in most schools. Soccer needs to be part of every primary and high school sport curriculum,” she says.
It’s a sentiment Tsichlas echoes.
How then does South Africa get back into the game?
“With the proper technical and administration, we’ll get back into it. We also need to learn to build from the bottom up,” says Ledwaba.
Tsichlas, who has earned the moniker ‘The Iron Lady’, is more forthright and places the blame on too much politics in football.
“It can be done if we all speak the same language. We have the resources—money through sponsors—and the ability. But we don’t have unity because there is a lot of politics in our football, that is why we keep failing as a football nation. We blame the coaches and the players but we don’t look in the mirror at ourselves, as administrators. It starts at the top and trickles down to the clubs. We have to unite football like years ago when we were the top team in Africa,” she says.
Women’s football on the other hand, seems to be in better state. Banyana Banyana qualified to play at the Olympics.
“But with women’s soccer, the marketing of the national team needs to improve and we need to fill the stadiums when they play,” says Ledwaba.
Unlike their male counterparts, women footballers do not earn salaries but rather bonuses as they are not seen as professional players. Tsichlas believes a women’s section in the PSL is key in developing women’s football.
Ledwaba’s exit from Ria Stars was fuelled by big companies’ tendency to support the big teams.
“But the PSL teams now get a sizeable monthly allowance from PSL so every team is on an equal footing,” she says.
Still, Ledwaba has no regrets.
“My dream was realized—I succeeded against all odds. No regrets, just plenty of lessons. I learnt my limits and I got to understand the dynamics of a male-dominated industry,” says Ledwaba.
Tsichlas has several football feathers in her cap. She is the first woman elected to the National Soccer League (NSL)/PSL executive, as well as the first woman to be elected to the executive committee of Safa. She is also the first South African woman representative on the Confederation of African Football.

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The multitasking gene

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