Reflection

It’s the first day since Friday that I haven’t worn green – it feels awkward, uncomfortable… almost naked.

 

Is there anything more spectacular than the African spirit? This country just oozes soul from every pore.

 

I had the strangest dream last night – so realistic and probably brought on from all the beautiful displays of patriotism, healing and joy we witnessed in SA this past weekend…

 

I dreamt I had gone back in time to my primary school days, but with all the knowledge I have now. It was the day the headmaster announced that our school had become a ‘Model C’ school, allowing black children to attend.

 

Thabo, who was the first black boy to join my class, had arrived for his first day. In my dream I was watching him and feeling how terrified he must have been arriving into this completely white classroom. I had this overwhelming compulsion to tell him that everything was going to be okay – and that I could understand how scary it must all be.

 

After I woke up I thought back to the reality of the situation – what my classmates and I all really thought when Thabo arrived at my primary school. We were that weird ‘in between’ generation – with apartheid-aligned ideals beginning to crumble away.  We knew that racism was wrong – but we were completely oblivious to the major change we were living through.  When Thabo arrived we kinda knew that things were changing, but treated the new situation with the casual indifference typical of a bunch of 10 year olds.

 

By the time of the 1992 referendum – we all began to wake up to what was happening – mostly on account of the excitement and buzz in the air. After the ‘yes’ vote was announced I remember running around the neighbourhood with my parents to cut down the ‘Vote yes!’ advertising boards to keep as a memento of the dawning of a new era.

 

All my primary school friends just sprouted forth what ever they had heard around their homes – making it very clear what political agenda lurked behind the closed doors of each. Some would rattle off their parents’ plans to flee SA’s shores and tell horror stories about how all the white people who stayed behind would be chased into the sea. Others started to grasp that great things were about to happen…