It’s the little things that get me.
For the last fifteen years we’ve heard all about Apartheid. In fact, I’d be willing to wager a small amount that in the last decade and a half, people have used every possible medium to spout the varied evils of the previous administration. From the Newspaper headlines screaming “Third Force at work!” to flowery speeches on the television assuring us that the new administration is diametrically opposed to every single nuance of governance that came before, a lot has been shoved in our faces about how evil Apartheid was.
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Looking back at the absurdities of pre-1994 South Africa one can almost admire the amazing thoroughness of Apartheid social engineering. Virtually walled suburbs or towns… multiple entrances and exits to public places… even separate bridges!!! Not to mention the issue of alcohol! Never…. NEVER were white and other permutations to share a drink. What? And rot our pure culture by having black alcohol fumes mingled with white? Fuck me! And we were so thick, that the bulk of us couldn’t see the greater evil lurking behind the iJuba serving beerhall.
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OK, so let me get something straight; if they sit on the same park bench, or even if they swim (not that too many of them can anyway) on the identical section of the OCEAN as you, you might, WHAT, catch something? Slowly set in motion a process that would turn you black too? Pick up their nasty habits; like talking in a very animated manor, having a great sense of rhythm (now that was uncalled for) or speaking loudly to people although you may be close proximity to each other?
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September 1st, 2009
Carla
Growing up in the jewel of the east that is Benoni, I was never really aware of the petty apartheid laws that were in force during the 80’s. I lived to a large degree in a tiny bubble oblivious to the segregation, the brutal violence enforced by the SAPS, the overall disgruntled society and dictatorship that were the NP government.
Even now, as I sit here trying to write about it I find it hard to come to grips with. Perhaps it was due to the fact that I was not on the frontline. (For want of a better word.) Having graced the world with my annoying presence in 1983, I was a small toddler when apartheid was in full swing. As is typical with all toddlers I was interested in simpler things. My soft plush toys, terrorising our cat and my weird fascination with coins were the order of the day. (I’m still not quite sure what that last one was all about.)
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Petty Apartheid.
Age 8.
“Non-whites may not (insert list of basic human rights).”
How could ANYONE ever have thought this was a good idea?
Where were my parents?
Why didn’t they speak up?
What were they thinking?
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Petty Apartheid
n.
A system of racial segregation that focuses principally on public places, such as restaurants, hotels, and public transportation.
Petty Apartheid, named by the “regime” for the branch of Apartheid laws that dealt with keeping people separate on a daily basis. These are the laws that kept blacks and whites apart on the beaches, public toilets and disallowed interracial relationships.
From the first drafts and minor edits, I can tell you that this topic is definitely going to cause a lot of frustration, anger and shame but we’ll get through it together and we’ll hopefully get some dialog going that will lead to even more understanding.
Keep the comments and suggestions coming in!
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