In Memory Of The Farm School
We started off on equal footing you and I. Things were never black and white, but a world full of colour changing with the seasons. You see, what made you and me different was not our race, but who our parents were. Mine, the baas while yours worked for the baas. A worldwide phenomenon that has nothing to do with apartheid.
Our days were filled with building our own farms yards and hide-outs and learning each other’s games, languages and customs. We played cricket and football and went horse riding together or joined our fathers in the veldt. But meal times and after hours were spent with our own families. Our milk and meat came from the same source and we both dreaded our inoculations from the sister in her travelling clinic. You were taught to treat me with respect, I was taught to treat you with the same respect. We were too young to understand that we were different because of our skin colour, but we understood that my parents could afford a car because my dad owned the land we lived on.
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