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Race relations in black and white

Mzukisi Makatse writes on a personal experience in the ECape

The Question of Race Relations in South Africa is a Complex One

I remember being rudely reminded that by the way, we still have SOME racist malcontents in our midst. I lived in Pretoria for almost ten years before I moved back to the Eastern Cape Province. With my parents aging I decided it was a good move. I had always missed the fresh air and friendliness of the people of the Eastern Cape Province who will greet you even if they didn't know you. So I was looking forward to the prospect.

Having settled for a while, I decided one morning to attend the Proteas vs Sri Lanka match that was played in East London early this year. It was my first big cricket match to ever attend and the atmosphere was electrifying. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. At least from where I seated, there was this unspoken welcoming hand from white people, you know, more like stretched out to welcome their black counter parts to the game of cricket that was previously the bastion of white South Africans.

We all cheered and celebrated the best strikes by the likes of Graham Smith, Hashim Amla and others. The mood was even made special by those guys, white or black, carrying empty beer cups with a note hanged around their necks and written: ‘Please donate a beer'. We all laughed as we donated our pints of beer to the ‘beggars'. It was hilarious!

The game ended and South Africa won the match and we celebrated even more but for a short while as we had to head home. But an after party was scheduled to take place later that evening somewhere at Hemmingways Mall. Enthused by the grand atmosphere earlier that day, me and my friends decided we will attend the after party. I mean I had attended a dozen of after parties whilst living in Pretoria and they were all good for entertainment and this one couldn't be that different either, I told myself.

We arrived at the venue that night and understandably it was dominated by whites in terms of numbers. There were a significant number of blacks as well though; I thought maybe it was because DJ Fresh was playing at the venue that night. I didn't have any funny feeling about this demographic disproportionality as I have been exposed to it before without any problems. So we bought our tickets at an exorbitant price. I had a silly feeling that the cost of the tickets was meant to price out blacks from attending the party. But what the heck! Let's get in!

Inside, music was buzzing and the mood seemed electrifying. The demographics were still the same as outside, but this time complemented by a kind of separate dancing groups. Most whites danced on the one side with very few blacks around them; and a small group of blacks danced on the opposite side with very few whites around them. This must have come naturally out of preference in terms of who you wanna dance around, I thought.

We decided to go buy drinks so that we can as well join the party properly, you know what I mean. I had already made up my mind that I will dance on both sides just to try influencing the divide. When at the counter my worst nightmare befell me. Besides the fact that only white guys were selling the booze, whilst blacks were only told to go fetch this or that drink, or collect bottles around, there was something else.

We called for one white dude to sell us booze. He just ignored us preferring to concentrate on the other side that was full of whites. I didn't mind this at first so I approached the second dude to sell us beer. To my amazement, this dude called on the white chicks that were behind us, asking if they needed something.

At this time I was livid! I tried the next dude and the next dude but to no avail. They were all concentrating on selling whites first irrespective of the first come first served rule that is an unwritten law of any selling place. They made us to feel that we were not welcomed there. At this point I thought of the atmosphere at the stadium earlier that day. How I could be so fooled to even think that whites were welcoming to blacks, I thought to myself. Was it most whites who would do this or just a bunch of white dudes like these in front me? I wondered.

I was now seething with rage to a point of almost crying (ok I confessed I did share some quick tears). I was thinking of all the sacrifices we as black people made just to make sure that we are able to live together as one nation. I felt my dignity being torn apart by a bunch of barmen trying to show me that they were superior as a race than me, a black person. This ordeal went on for about forty minutes and that's when I decided to give up.

I left the counter feeling sick and contemplating leaving the party. My friends influenced me to stay as they persevered at the counter whilst I went out to catch some air. Outside I couldn't stop feeling so angry and I was visibly trembling. I was beginning to be filled with doubt if we can ever live in harmony in this country as one race: the human race.

My convictions were being tested to the limits here. Non-racialism, what is that anyway? I started asking myself lots of questions and whether this country has committed white people who dream of living together with other national groups under one race group, the human race.

As I was going back inside I was starting to make radical decisions about my political outlook and my attitude to the question of race relations in South Africa. Then boom! To my surprise, my friends were enjoying their beer in the company of some newly found white ‘friends'. Across our table was a group of white chicks dancing with a group of black dudes. How was I supposed to relate to this situation?

I was still feeling very angry not only to those white dudes at the counter by now but to my friends as well. How could they hang out with white dudes after such a humiliating experience at the hands of white barmen? I was ready to show faces of discomfiture towards my friends but as I arrived I noticed a genuine appreciation of each other's company between my friends and their newly found white friends.

That made me a bit confused as I now didn't know how to react towards all of them. As I was preparing my approach one white dude suddenly called me by my name and introducing himself at the same time. I was shocked but quickly thought that my friends must have told them the name of another friend of theirs who just went out to catch some air. I wondered if my friends had told them the story of the silly barmen. But that subject seemed to fade as we introduced each other and chatting about the game, girls and booze.

I was not sure if I should feel angry about the bar-men incident the following day. I mean yes it happened and I hated every bit of it. But I felt more of myself again that morning: a non-racial democrat with a deep sense of political militancy. Also, the fact that I went to sleep last night having enjoyed myself to the fullest, bar the barmen incident, with a funny and very nice bunch of white dudes made me to delve deeper into the question of race relations in this country.

I concluded that the disturbing bar-men incident and my experience with that bunch of funny and nice white dudes was a microcosm of the broader societal contradiction we face. The human osmosis and human intercourse that has taken place between the different races in this country since 1994 is no small development. My belief in a contradictory and spiral web like development process was thus affirmed.

Even though there are those stiff necks that would rather die racist, there is a big group of other people who are prepared to move with the times and who understand that in the final analysis, we are all human beings. Yes it will not be an easy process to change the deeply entrenched and institutionalised racial stereotypes. Just like naturally giving birth to a child, it's never a painless undertaking.

The labour pains and the birth pains is what we are currently experiencing as a country. However, as the birth of a new-born child is celebrated, the birth of a non-racial society will be celebrated by all. We will celebrate and ululate, giving thanks and praises to our ancestors, to God, to Ala, to Aum and to whomever or to whatever else that we pray to.

Needless to say, the mother, our country, will bear all the hallmarks of a child bearer. She will have scars, extra or less weight, exhaustion but above all, she will be filled with unquestionable joy. She will be natured, her scars rubbed with soothing ointment until she becomes her normal self again. She will look beautiful and full of life and promise again. Everyone will look up to her with a sense of awe and reverence. Above all, she will be alive with possibilities!      

Mzukisi Makatse is a member of the ANC and ANCYL. He writes in his personal capacity

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