At least we still build dreams

Every so often you hear them comparing hardships: “I walked 5km to school every day”; “well, I walked 10”; “but I walked barefoot”; and “I had to carry my little brother…” It’s a ritual comparison and you’ll hear it at almost every family gathering or school reunion.

Their alleged suffering a badge or medal they wear with pride. It’s not a conversation in which I participate, for the simple reason that I never walked to school.

My parents drove me. Every day, through rain and snow, I sat in the back seat of my father’s blue Ranger with the heater on listening to everything from Frank Sinatra to Abba.

And on my 16th birthday, my dad bought me a motorcycle. So, darn, no hardship medal for me.

I sometimes wonder if the support personnel at the United Nations have the same ritual comparisons. Imagine the conversation in the tea room: “My president has stolen a million”; “what an amateur, he must be new. Our president has stolen a billion”; “that’s nothing, Uncle Bob has stolen it all. Yes, there’s not a single Zimbabwean dollar left anywhere.”

While in room 313B: “We’re building nuclear warheads and intercontinental ballistic missiles and then we’re going to obliterate Guam”; “oh, puh-lease.

We already have 200 nukes … no, wait… we used two … we have 198 nukes and my president says we’re gonna give you a fire and fury display for Christmas.”

And on the rooftop smoking area: “We are building a 1 000km wall to keep those Palestinians from reclaiming the land we stole, I mean legally annexed”; “we are going to build a 2 500km wall to keep those Mexicans from stealing our jobs.”

I reckon, even at the UN, the South African delegation will not get a hardship badge. We still have a functioning economy and our very own currency.

We may have overspent on arms, but we’re not nuking anybody, even though we did have the capacity to, and our armed forces are playing a vital role as peacekeepers on the continent.

Most of all, instead of building walls, we are still, as a nation, building houses and dreams.

Danie Toerien