ISSUES AT STAKE: A white man deprived by apartheid
Don't get me wrong, I never experienced the injustice of pass laws or the dehumanising effect of separate amenities, the label of 'third class citizen' or, worse still, the torture and cruelty of punishment simply because of the colour of my skin or my political views
I had never really given it much thought before, but I am a victim of apartheid.
Don’t get me wrong, I never experienced the injustice of pass laws or the dehumanising effect of separate amenities, the label of ‘third class citizen’ or, worse still, the torture and cruelty of punishment simply because of the colour of my skin or my political views.
I understood these things, growing up in a home where my mother was violently anti-National Party and a Black Sash sympathiser.
She grew up in the Transkei and schooled with Donald Woods, so we well understood what was happening around us.
She also volunteered at a school for handicapped black children long, long before 1994, and we treasure a front page of the Daily Dispatch of a big group of these kids clinging onto her loving arms, I think from the 1980s.
So, you have every right to ask, how was I, a privileged white, disadvantaged?
Well, I was denied access to the culture, insights, customs and thinking of my fellow citizens of colour.
I was deprived of opportunity for the many friendships I treasure today across the race and colour spectrum.
I was starved of witnessing the sporting prowess of the Bryan Habanas of that era, and seeing them proud to wear the green and gold.
Nor was I allowed to test my own sporting ability with and against those who were probably far better than me and more deserving of provincial honours.
I could not enjoy going to places where the kwela music dazzled and the jazz notes crept into your soul.
I lost out on meeting a young Mandela or a Biko.
It’s when I’m with my colleagues and friends today, most of whom are less than half my age, that I realise just exactly what was denied me.
It’s emphasised when I listen to the young poets and playwrights, and hear talks from wise, grey-haired elders I never had the privilege of listening to decades ago.
I count myself blessed that today I can share in and appreciate that which I was denied in my younger days.
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