The Not-So-Black-and-White Rainbow

I love South Africa. And not in a boerewors-en-braaivleis kind of way. I love her properly. In that innocent way that children love their parents, despite their faults. I make excuses for her. Our president has a dirty laundry list longer than his arm, and my heart goes, “That’s not South Africa, that’s just the president”. Bad things happen, and my excuse is that bad things happen everywhere. She embarrasses us. She lets us down. She seems irredeemable, unsaveable, lost in a downward spiral, and yet my love for her continues, steadfast and completely unshakeable.

I’ve realised lately though that my age has made me lucky. Add ten years and I might not be so lucky anymore. I don’t remember the apartheid stuff. I don’t remember when black people had no rights and had to obey certain curfews. It’s easy for me to say, “oh that’s over, it’s not like that anymore” – but for some it really isn’t.

My child’s nanny is a tiny black woman who goes by the name of Sally. I have no idea what her real name is. She hasn’t realized yet that she doesn’t have to change her name for white people anymore. And none of us ever told her that it’s ok if her name is Nomphumiso or something else that us “whities” can’t say or spell. She has branded herself. Sally. That is who she is now. And this meek and mild woman scurries around my house, constantly in a state of absolute terror, as if one of us is going to do something to her. Whenever my child is being impossible she looks as if she is expecting me to yell at her. When I yell at my kid for being impossible, instead of blaming her for his tantrums, she seems confused. The fact that we are kind to her, ask after her children, offer to make her coffee when we boil the kettle and never speak angrily to her has made no difference to her frightened demeanour. It is her lot in life to be the slave. To take on a beating and come back for more. The scolded puppy with nowhere else to go. I watch her sometimes and it breaks my heart.

But there’s another kind of heartbreaking block and at the moment it’s kind of partially responsible for the fact that I now have to start looking for a new job. Now really I don’t care about my job. It’s convenient because it’s half day only and I can bring my kid to work. It takes nothing out of me and therefore leaves un-scarred the emotional energy needed to be a somewhat functional “writer”. But not liking my job isn’t really the point is it? Losing it because of prejudice is. And if there’s one blemish on our country that saddens me more than any other it’s this one.

Let me backtrack for a second. Uganda is in the process of passing this ridiculous law that outlaws homosexuality. The thought makes me sick to my stomach and actually gives me cold chills. They were talking about it on the radio the other day and I started talking about it to a girl that I work with. She didn’t really see the problem. I think my mind went completely blank in disbelief. Really! She was totally ok with it and didn’t see it as a problem!!. When I compared it to being exactly the same as racism she looked at me like I was mad. Racism is wrong. Hating gays is apparently just fine. And my aching heart wants to know why the people living in our country can’t see that there is absolutely no difference between hating someone because he is black and hating him because he is gay. I had the same shivers a while back with the heavy xenophobia problems we had. “It’s the same thing!” I would yell at the news casters, almost in tears with frustration that something so purely evil was happening in my home, while these straight-faced whackos were reporting it as if it was just another piece of news.

So back to today: I’m not entirely sure that I’ve been put in such a position that leaving my job is my only viable option because of racism, but there seems to be, among other ridiculous amounts of unfounded politics that I absolutely refuse to take any part in, an undertone of the-white-people-should-all-go-there-and-we’ll-stay-here. And I refuse to be any part of it so I have basically chosen to walk away without fighting. Perhaps it’s my imagination – but is it really? And if it is so – how sad that our nation is still so damaged that the colour of our skin still dictates our trustworthiness and overall worth to those who should be our fellow citizens. How sad that this level of jadedness still exists for such a large number of people. To how many black people am I not to be trusted because I am white? And was I so naive that up until now it never even occurred to me that the tables would turn on us? For how much longer will we be paying for the sins of our fathers? And for how much longer is apartheid going to be held responsible for the problems we experience every day as South Africans?

I once watched a beauty pageant where one of the contestants was asked why she thought the youth of South Africa seemed so disinterested in politics and her response was that it is because we just don’t care. And no…we don’t…not in the same way at least. For the most part we don’t feel it the way our seniors do. The black/white thing is no big deal. Our playgrounds and friend groups had black and white children alike. We made politically incorrect jokes without offending each other. We joked about jungle fever. Some of us dated each other. These days when the black-to-white racism rears its ugly head we are genuinely surprised. And when the white-to-black racism happens we jump on it. You don’t get to be a racist dick on my watch! Not at OUR age. Not in OUR groups.

But what about everyone else? Are the older generations really doomed to living in apartheid forever? Frail beings made irreparably meek by their fear and subservience to the white man? And will the generation after them truly never be able to indulge in the freedom that they were lucky enough to be a part of in their time? Will they always swim in this sea of bitterness and resentment while the nation around them is trying so hard to rebuild? How many generations have to die before our nations children can truly be considered equal by all of its inhabitants?