My South Africa is not Europe!

2013-09-19 21:47

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My South Africa officially houses 50 million people of all colours, creeds, religions and genders. If we include the unofficial refugee population from Zimbabwe, Mozambique, Angola, Namibia and Somalia it might be closer to 65 million for all we know.

My South Africa today has a thousand shades of black and the rainbow needs urgent re-inventing.

My South Africa is blessed with the gifts of communication. We have eleven official languages. No one can ever say they didn’t know what was going on. Someone will eventually say it in their language.

My South Africa has not changed its name with the birth of its democracy, but many of our roads, streets and towns need to reinvent their addresses. How long can we drive down Hendrik Verwoerd Boulevard, John Vorster Avenue or PW Botha Street without throwing up?

My South Africa is not Holland where they think they understand Afrikaans and don’t want to be reminded that Verwoerd, the Architect of Apartheid, was Dutch and not Afrikaans.

My South Africa is not the United Kingdom, because happily many of our racist youth have left our rainbow shores to create their own a De la Rey-style Blankostan Homeland in the London suburb of Richmond.

My South Africa is not Europe no matter how hard some of us try. Black people were once referred to as ‘Non-Europeans’, which ironically meant that many Australians and Californians used the toilets meant for blacks.

My South Africa is not Australia, even though so many South Africans emigrated to that far-off colony that the average IQ of both our countries went up.

My South Africa is not Russia, although most of our ANC Politburo scraped through Moscow University or Leningrad College, and hide their Stalinist bent under frothy liberal chit-chat and gesture politics.

My South Africa is not China, but there’s a new China shop opening every week on the main streets of our country towns, giving truth to the old rumour that by the end of Robert Mugabe’s 100-year reign, the Chinese will rule the world.

My South Africa is not the USA. Once the Americas inspired us with their Indian Reservation System, on which we then based our apartheid Black Homeland policies. We’ve moved on. They still have them. And now we Afrikaners can proudly claim to be an inspiration for the current American President. We once locked up our political prisoners on Robben Island without trial. Today, Barack Hussein Obama does the same thing on Cuba.

My South Africa is not Cuba, although we also have a Communist Party with plans for the future, and are waiting to give the Castros political asylum in Pretoria if Obama decides to extend Guantanamo Bay.

My South Africa is not Israel where they have built an 8m high concrete wall of separation to keep their enemies out, while we created a democracy to try and keep everyone in. But thanks Tel Aviv for the nuclear bombs, our apartheid regime needed to show some muscle against an unfriendly democratic world.

My South Africa is not blood-drenched Iraq, which has now imported all our ex-South African police to do security service. We probably have the biggest unofficial army there! You can ask for a ‘lekker dop’ and get it.

My South Africa is not Afghanistan, even though we have as many SUVs clogging our roads, not driven by tough soldiers clutching loaded machine guns, but by tipsy politicians, the nouveau noir and anorexic mothers with cellphones pressed to their ears.

My South Africa is not Zimbabwe. Yet.

My South Africa has the greatest Constitution in the world. We have a Bill of Rights. We had an unbelievable Truth Commission. We are inspired by Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu. And who do the rest of world have? The Kardashians.

My South Africa had the greatest incidence of HIV/Aids in the world. We lost one thousand people a day thanks to a government that did nothing for ten years. Now our Number One leads by example from the shower.

My South Africa is exciting, frightening, hot, cold, dry, wet, hilly, flat, crowded, empty, arrogant, friendly, dangerous, gentle, non-racial, racist, wealthy, poor, healthy, sick, hopeful, corrupt, unbearable and addictive.

My South Africa has not forgotten the past while looking forward to the future.

My South Africa is where no democrat has been before. It is the blueprint for hope where everything once looked hopeless. It is building a future in the faded footprint of despair.

My South Africa is a nineteen-year old teenager on the edge of adulthood with all the confusions, expectations, demands, fears and fantasies that entails.

My South Africa is my home.

- and

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