Dreaming of a better South Africa

Last night, I had a glimpse of the South Africa I want to leave to my children – and I loved it. I was at the bread counter of our local supermarket when a man next to me pointed to the motorcycle helmet in my trolly and joked: “I didn’t know they sold helmets here?” “Yes, they’re on sale. If you hurry to aisle four, you may just get one of the last ones.”

On my way home, I realised what a precious moment that was. That man represented everything I want for the people who live in this country. He had an educated accent, and I dream of the day that every young South African can have an excellent education.

He sported a muscular build, which means that he has the disposable income to afford a gym membership and the time to exercise. And he was buying food in a middle-class supermarket, which means that he doesn’t need to beg at traffic lights to scrape a few rands together to stay alive, as far too many people sadly have to do nowadays.

He was polite and we shared a pleasant moment, despite the fact that we are completely different: I’m old and he is young, I am white and he is black. That made no difference to him – he just shared a pleasantry with another shopper and he probably didn’t give it a second thought.

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Our encounter lasted only seconds, but it told me so much about him – and I want to see the entire country becoming like him before I finally lay down my head one day. This is such a wonderful place. It’s a rich country and there is more than enough for every one of us to live comfortable lives.

Yet the majority of us live in poverty – and those who are not starving, are one pay cheque away from destitution. Things have obviously gone terribly wrong somewhere. Yes, we have made huge mistakes throughout the decades – and my own white Afrikaans ancestors are some of the biggest culprits. There is no time left to change things – we have to start immediately.

Until now, we have looked at politicians to give us the utopia we believe we deserve. How stupid! They are only helping themselves. We all believed things will change for the better when we voted in ’94. It didn’t. A luta continua…