SA’s rainbow and the looted pot of gold

Where the good people in the ANC to join forces and prevent looters from smudging South Africa's canvas with crime grime?


Came across a stunning oil painting of a rainbow, reminding me, a South African, what it symbolises. That’s what our people have been doing for nearly three decades of ANC rule – looking to the heavens, hoping for the master’s stroke to create the promised rainbow nation. But law-abiding citizens have come to terms with it, realising while government harbours miscreants, allowing them to plunder and fan the flames of racism, the rainbow – a thing of beauty and purity – will remain a dream. But there’s hope. Believe me, there was a moment it existed and I gloried in…

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Came across a stunning oil painting of a rainbow, reminding me, a South African, what it symbolises.

That’s what our people have been doing for nearly three decades of ANC rule – looking to the heavens, hoping for the master’s stroke to create the promised rainbow nation.

But law-abiding citizens have come to terms with it, realising while government harbours miscreants, allowing them to plunder and fan the flames of racism, the rainbow – a thing of beauty and purity – will remain a dream.

But there’s hope. Believe me, there was a moment it existed and I gloried in it – albeit in a small, isolated enclave. And it appeared in the 1960s at the height of apartheid’s harsh rule, encompassing the clamping down on freedom of speech, the indiscriminate jailing of reporters and the closing of newspapers.

The rare scenario played out in a rundown factory owned by an independent newspaper publishing company that existed despite the horrible rulers’ discriminatory intentions.

Editorial staffers were deliberately made up of an equal number of black and white editors, reporters, advertising reps, typesetters and production people.

A veritable family, working, fraternising freely and debating political, cultural and religious issues without raising voices or throwing punches. I happily basked under the warmth during office hours.

Had the Nats been flies on the wall of the humble cafeteria, they would’ve had apoplexy: a mosaic of black and white around a rickety table, eating from lunch boxes and even swapping sarmies and recipes.

Sadly, the newspaper was forced to close, shutting out the rainbow. Nevertheless, it was an unforgettable lesson learnt by a providentially hand-picked group, some of whom are still alive.

Rainbows appear only over homes, offices, churches and streets where the storms of prejudice caused by the people against entrenched traditions and backgrounds have abated.

Those who’ve seen the light need to hold the pose for the artist to complete the masterpiece.

Who knows, the good people in the ANC might draw inspiration from the painting and join forces so as to prevent looters from smudging the canvas with crime grime?

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