Black and White

I remember in 1993 it was exactly when a new guy had come into our nursery school, Tiny Tots. I walked up to him, not knowing his name, and started up a conversation: at only 6 years, in your face and talkative, I was not shy on making friends. We chatted and played the day away, I had found a new friend. His name: Graeme Colman. Within a few days of being Graeme’s true friend, and co-builder of sand castles and Lego Skyscrapers I received a letter from Graeme’s mother that I was to give to my mother. Excited by this strange act and keen to find out what was in it, I got home and shoved it into my mother’s hands. Eagerly and impatiently looking up at my mother as if I was a young puppy and my mother was my owner bearing a juicy piece of steak, I was later to find that I was being invited for a sleepover at Graeme’s house. Granted! That was the beginning of my best childhood friendship with my great white friend Graeme Colman.

To tell you the truth, I have never really known what racism actually is. I had never experienced it. Sure I had heard of the word, I had watched documentaries detailing the ills of apartheid.
Sure I had seen that videotape that was displayed on Special Assignment of the policemen that set their dogs on a group of helpless, harmless and defenseless black guys. And yes I did get one of those teachers who expressed their deepest love for the Boeremag and eternal devotion to the AWB…but never ever did I get the feeling that Racism actually existed, at least not around me.
Not until I worked part time as a waiter for the local Ocean Basket in Witbank. During one of the busiest nights, I had asked for a lucrative section that people would enjoy sitting in and thus earn me a bit more money. Being a waiter isn’t all about serving people its also about getting the right section of the restaurant. When people are seated in the right place of the room, with the right view and scenery, their wallets become a lot less tight. This means more tips, more money in the bank, which means a happier me.
At round about 8 p.m. (which is our peak time), a couple walked in, because of the busyness of the day I quickly sat them down, took their drinks order and vanished to go and get it. While pouring their drink I decided to try and ease them into their seats with a good joke (one of my best jokes too). I would love to tell you that these two burst out laughing, embraced my wit and asked for my name, but I would be lying. They didn’t laugh no smile, no grin, not even a show of tooth. I felt like crap, but so as not to let it get me down I simply shrugged it off and convinced myself: “it’s not my fault they don’t have sense of humor.” I dashed away to go and remove the egg that was smeared all over my face and came back.
As walked towards their table I could see from afar that there was something they weren’t happy about, their faces had changed. Each one had a frown on their forehead and fold in their mouth that (in my culture) signifies disgust. Upon finally arriving at their table to enquire, they intolerantly mumbled something in Afrikaans that sounded like: “We want to speak to the manger.” I kindly went and summoned one of my managers over to that “lucrative” corner table.
From the time Paulo (the manager) had arrived at the scene (which I was far from), I had been questioning myself about what it was, exactly, I had done wrong. I had even started blaming myself for the jokes, my greeting and even the way I was standing.
When Paulo had concluded his apologetic conversation with them, he summoned another waiter to their table and made his way over to me. He explained to me that those two were a racist bunch and they would’ve preferred it if they had a white Afrikaans speaking waiter. At the time I breathed a deep sigh of relief and said “so it wasn’t me”, regaining myself confidence, I attended to my other tables. I did, however, keep an eye one those two and they seemed to enjoy their night away in the company of their newfound white Afrikaans-speaking waiter.
At cashing in time, I noticed that I had a continuous buzz of confusion in my mind. “Is this allowed in restaurants?” and upon consulting some of my co-workers, I found that it happened regularly under the new ownership. Upon hearing these statements from my co-workers the buzz of confusion grew even louder and chanted even more questions in my direction, “Is this allowed? Is this right? Stupid racists! don’t they know that the chef’s are black too? Are these the kind of work conditions that people get exposed to?” I tried to quiet down this confusion with two answers:
1) Some people will never change
2) It was their personal choice, everyone is allowed to have their personal choice right? And I left if at that…at least I tried to.
Another work day came and this time it was during the week a more relaxed night where people prefer to cook than to eat out. This time I had three tables and only one of my tables was occupied. I had just finished serving the guests with their main course and they were happily eating away. So I headed towards the door to hustle some more customers and lure them over to my section. When I got to the door I noticed two ladies who seemed to be approaching our door, so I stood up straight in a welcoming manner. I was wrong though they were simply walking towards their car that was parked a few feet away from our entrance. Realizing that they had in actual fact come from our next door neighbour, Cappuccinos, I kindly accepted my blunder and asked them to consider our restaurant next time they thought of eating out. With no luck appearing at the door I decided to check on my existing guests, I found that they had just finished their meal and were ready for their dessert order to be taken. Just after I had dropped off those dirty dishes and on my way to ring up the dessert, I noticed two (fat, rugby playing) white guys charging in my direction, being escorted by both the owner and manager. These guys were fuming and red in the face, when they finally made it to their destination they barked a number of threats. They threatened to break me into pieces and slaughter me alive if I uttered insults in the direction of their wives ever again. I was later to find that these men had come to set straight the guy who had allegedly offended their wives. They were apparently calmed done by the owner when he told them that all of this would be unnecessary and that he would give me a serious talking – to once they had gone. Once these two guys had finished their “we-going-to-mess-you-up-kaffir” speeches that whole buzz of confusion came buzzing right back, as I sure knew it would.
A part of me wishes that those guys would have at least laid a hand on me, because it would have initiated one of the biggest wars ever. We would’ve gone to court and proved that apartheid is indeed dead and buried. Another part of me is happy I got out of that without a scratch, God knows I am the coward of all cowards and those two racist fatties would’ve flattened me out. What made me even angrier was that both my manager and boss came to warn me of my supposed mischievous behaviour. They made sure to point out to me that had done me a big favour by stopping those guys otherwise I would be in hospital flat on a bed. They even cared to point out to me that the white men of that area were very sensitive people and I should make sure that I keep out of their way at all times. I wasn’t even asked about my side of the story, I was simply guilty (in their eyes) and apparently very lucky that I had not received a beating from those guys.
The buzz of confusion made sure to tell me that I might not be long in that place.
After those incidents, I made sure to wear my racist eyeglasses to work. I viewed all subsequent events through these glasses and boy did I see clearer.
On the 3rd of January to be exact, I stood up for a co-worker of mine who was being unfairly treated by the owner. I then got into a war of words with the boss making him very aware what I thought of his leadership style. I told him just how unfair I thought he was for allowing the ghost of Apartheid to re-appear in his shop and how, just for the mere fact that he allowed it; it was the same as if he was encouraging racism. I concluded by calling him a racist who hides behind the fact that he gives jobs to black people.
After those few months I realized that if there was any place in which the ghost of apartheid lived it must be my own hometown: Witbank

Aime Cesaire once said. “When I turn on my radio and hear that Negroes have been lynched in America, I say we have been lied to Hitler is not dead. When I turn on my radio and hear that in South Africa Apartheid has been legislated and inaugurated, I say that we have been lied to Hitler is not dead”.
Steve Biko adds: “When I turn on my radio, when I hear that someone in Pondoland was beaten and tortured, I say that we have been lied to, Hitler is not dead. When I turn on my radio when I hear that someone in jail slipped off a piece of soap, fell and died, I say that we have been lied to Hitler is not dead: he is likely to be found in Pretoria.”
I would like to add: “When I go to work and find that there are certain customers that I can’t serve, due to the color of my skin, I say that we have been lied to Hitler is not dead. When I turn my newspaper to the sports section and find that my favorite soccer team cannot play in their usual sports ground, due to some capitalistic white bullies, I say that we have been lied to, Hitler is not dead…he is likely to be found in Witbank/Emalahleni.
Yes I said it: because it can only be Hitler-like mentality that still believes (after 14 years of democracy) they are superior to other human beings. It can only be Hitler-like mentality that still has you felling offended after an honest young black man mistakes you for someone who is walking into the restaurant he works for. So yes I said it!
It is intolerable for such things to happen. Absolutely intolerable and it cannot be allowed to continue. If this is what happens to us during ordinary days, what happens to our parents (in the job sector) who depend on white people to put food on their tables? What happens to the ordinary schoolchildren that choose to go to predominantly white schools because of their obvious access to better resources?
I have tried over the past 3 years to ignore the fact that we have this disease. However every time I try to ignore it, the confusion keeps on re-appearing like an un-cultured ghost…each time being resurrected by experiencing and observing racist activities, when I come home for the holidays. Whether these racist actions are shown towards me or somebody else, the mere fact that it occurs haunts my humanity. I am haunted even more by the words of Karl Jaspers when he notes: “There exists among men, because they are men, a solidarity through which each shares responsibility for every injustice and every wrong committed in the world and especially for crimes that are committed in his presence or of which he cannot be ignorant. If I do not do whatever I can to prevent them, I am an accomplice in them. If I have risked my life in order to prevent the murder of other men, if I have stood silent, I feel guilty in a sense that cannot in any adequate fashion be understood jurisdicially or politically or morally…that I am still alive after such things have been done, weighs on me a guilt that cannot be expiated. Somewhere in the hearts of human relations, an absolute command that imposes itself: In case of a criminal attack or of living conditions that threaten physical being, choose life for altogether or none at all”
You see not many of us can claim redemption from such, whether it comes within our knowledge by experience, observation or even through word-of-mouth . One cannot claim that they are exempt from doing something to discontinue such threatening activity. Victim or not, one cannot sit by and allow even a fraction of our city to house human beings that believe and subscribe to the notion: BLACK IS INFERIOR.
Let’s say there are 3 known burglars that continue to rob and terrorize members of a small little village. If there are some members of that village that come to know of an incident where a radio was sold to another member of that village, that incident has to investigated and the dealers found. Once found all the members of that community have a fiduciary duty to find these partners and show them that their thieving activities will not be tolerated. This should be done within the boundaries of the law (i.e. do not kill them, remember they should be able to talk when they are questioned on the witness stand). Whether these robbers are found guilty by the justice system, they would reconsider their behavior because the village would have displayed their lack of tolerance for such behavior. In essence they would be left with nothing but two options.
1) Stay in the village and subscribe to the morals and values of the majority
2) Relocate to a place where their thieving activities will be accepted (wherever that is).
Why? In order for a community to live in peace, they must decide to live in peace. If a community wants to live in a drug free environment they must decide. And if the majority believes that something is wrong than the minority must either face the wrath of the majority or flee to a land where the majority is just like them. If racists know and understand that they are in the minority, if they know that their actions will not be stomached, if teachers are made aware that the community does not allow for white students to be preferred over black students. If they are made aware that it is either they are served by the waiter they are given or they have a braai at home…then they will be left with nothing but two options
1) Continue to live in Emalahleni and subscribe to the same values and morals as everybody else
2) Flee to a land where racism will be allowed.
But let me stress that WE MUST DECIDE, ALL OF US. Our decisions must be based on the values and ethics that we subscribe to as a society. Nobody must be a bystander or spectator; you cannot just sit on the fence. It’s either you are in or out.
One of the reasons we are living in a democratic South Africa is because many people decided in the direction of a democratic South Africa. They decided to lay down their lives for this rainbow nation that they so greatly desired, and hence we are basking in the sunlight of their dreams. These times too need firm decision makers, who will stand by their decisions no matter what the consequences are.

Over the years from Grade 0-3 Graeme and I developed a great friendship and enjoyed many sleepovers at his house. We burnt marshmallows, ate marmite and camped outside his house together. The boy even taught me to cook Phuthu, he loved it, and because of him I still cannot enjoy my Phuthu without a little bit of brown sugar sprinkled on top. I personally believe that if we could work together to fight such unnecessary things as racism we could easily build a great future. A future where kids of all races will eat pap, samoosas, and braaivleis together. Where they can visit each other with no conditions, where colour will not be known to be a limit. Where difference of colour is not an obstacle to progress, or a wall to embrace but a mere difference in pigmentation, painted by the artist GOD. Maybe if we stop all this hating God will smile on us and put an end to race and paint us all in the same colour, maybe grey or navy blue…but I prefer BLACK AND WHITE.

-SGM