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| article by Yolanda Godlo |
Heritage Day, 1994, marked my tenth birthday. One of the reasons why it's so easy to remember is because it was the first year that I didn't go to school on my birthday.
In my parents' backyard, I sat, quietly absorbing the morning while also realizing this new horizon upon us: democracy.
The other reason is that it felt too easy, almost like there was something else to come, a catch.
See, history has taught me that whenever there is an exchange of power, there will surely be battles. A battle for control even after the power had been exchanged. Yet here I was sitting in the backyard, and it was dead silent.
Life felt like it had taken a hundred and eighty-degree turn and was going to be good from here.
I sometimes wonder why, as a young girl in Gauteng's East Rand, this was part of my thoughts on the morning of my birthday.
We are now here, almost 30 years later, and our democracy is now a fully-fledged adult who leaves much to be desired. It is now that I repeatedly ask myself whether this is what I was fearing when I was ten years old.
For a long time, our country has been portrayed as an exemplary case of how power was exchanged between the oppressor and the oppressed in the best way possible.
For many years, we spoke of the Rainbow Nation." We had a new flag, seemingly more opportunities for all, equality, and the list is endless.
Had it not been for my attempt at survival and using my talent of DJ’ing as a means of income, maybe I would have never really seen a world that would shock me.
As a kid born in suburbia, I was shielded from many of the harsh realities faced by many of our fellow black South Africans. Poverty, unemployment, and a lack of opportunities, among other things, plague South Africa, which has been largely marketed as the most forward-thinking country on our continent.
What's even more heartbreaking is how many people have resigned themselves to this harsh reality and have almost given up.
I am also acutely aware of speakers of 'Africanism' who almost encourage that part of our identity and significance is to be associated with and even embrace poverty.
Is that who we want to be? Truly? When you have a few minutes to spend with yourself during the day, is this what you imagine for yourself? Maybe you were well into your teens, early 20s, or even older when 1994 came around.
Is this the life you imagined for yourself? Is this what you thought your nearly 30-year experience within a democratic state would look like?
If it is, then by all means disregard this article; however, if it isn't, then can you reimagine your reality?
Can we, as a collective, reimagine South Africa?
Yolande Godlo
