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   Chapter 32 Ilan Ossendryver

Apartheid Rendezvous By Antonette Liebermann Characters: 6723

Updated: 2018-05-15 11:38


Short Stories of Apartheid by Ilan Ossendryver.

As a young boy, a White young boy growing up in South Africa, I saw many strange things happening around me. These strange things were happening to the Blacks and not the Whites as far as I could see.

Distinctly, I remembered the days when around my house, in the White suburbs where the quietness of the day would be broken by loud whistles and shrieks of run! Then came the ugly Bedford trucks carrying police. They would brake with a screech and out would pour police with batons and whips in hands, running after terrified Blacks, mostly old women. They would be caught and violently shoved in the back of the waiting Bedfords. Then it would be quiet again until the police came around again to search for Blacks without permit - passes - to be in White areas.

I remember the day I wanted to play jazz in my garage with the gardener who was a jazz musician. When I got around asking him to come play, he said he couldn't because he was Black and that according to the laws of Apartheid, it was forbidden to socialize with Blacks in White areas. The laws of racial segregation. I remember being extremely angry and confused. As a White living in South Africa, it became difficult to look into the eyes of the Blacks, the African majority ruled by White minority.

The turning point in my life, came when I was still a young boy. After teasing and teasing and teasing my Black nanny one night when she was babysitting us, I called her a 'Kaffir.' As long as I live, I shall always be ashamed of what I said to her. I knew at the time the word was bad, but I used it to hurt, to cause pain. And when I saw that pain in her eyes, I felt as though someone had ripped my heart out. It hurt, and when I think about it today, it still brings back that hurt. Through this, I learnt about the horrors of Apartheid, the system of race segregation and its sickness, its leaders, the corruption of the legal system, the health system, the transport system - the whole

dered, tortured, disappeared for life. I wonder what would have happened to me had I stayed.

Nelson Mandela is free and Apartheid gone. And there is even now a new President of South Africa, after the Mandela era. (An era the world cannot forget. South Africa is a free country with equality for all. A new and wonderful flag flies in the blue sky. But there is a new fight on the horizon that must be taken care of very quickly, like starting yesterday. Crime that is so out of control that is appears unstoppable. The tragic result of Apartheid must be dealt with to ensure the future of South Africa. South Africa is a wonderful country with lots to look forward to.

My work in the next pages deals with an ugly past. Some of the images can still be seen today in various parts of the country.

My only hope is that for the country and its children, and people, that they may live in harmony without suffering. And that they may all live a wonderful life.

Author's note : I just love these stories, be it by a black or a white. It gives you a better picture of what actually happened. It makes you see that not every white supported this and also that the ideology instilled within the people of South Africa was no one's personal choice. People were forced to accept the ideology of supremacy but it still didn't make it okay.

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