Notwithstanding the fact that I still reside in sunny South Africa, however the country of my birth has changed irrevocably since then. It has been refashioned to such an extent that it is no longer the same country that I remember as a callow youth. This alteration is more than a racial voting issue as the very fabric of society has been rendered asunder. This blog addresses these modifications and assesses whether they were for better or worse as the marriage in 1994 to the New South Africa was consummated.

Main picture: With my cousin Marilyn & her two boys circa 1976

At 6 years old

A carefree and languid youth

Perhaps it is wistful nostalgia, but as I recall the South Africa of my youth, the Old South Africa, was a place and a time of carefree and blissful freedom. Cocooned within this womb-like idyll, I recall having the childhood freedoms that every child needs to experience. Instead where today’s children are fetched and carried by their parents, children of my vintage were free to explore their natural environment. This also meant that for my 12 years of schooling, I either walked or, when in High School, cycled to school. On the other hand today’s children are encased within the confines of their parent’s grasp.

After walking the ten blocks home after school, the Hubert Hurd Primary School, in Newton Park, I was off to play. Without the constraint of cell phones it was off to friends three to four blocks away in the wild and forbidden haunt, the Baakens River Valley.

At home at 57 Mowbray Street Port Elizabeth

Supposedly there was a haunted wild whirl pool, appropriately, known as Devil’s Pool beneath a 300 metre vertical rock face. Tales were told are people being sucked down by its giant swirling motion never to be seen again,  hence the apocalyptic name.

Me circa 1977 in lounge

Friday night was soccer night when Michael Baker & I would go & watch PE City battling it out against the giants of the Soccer League. Teams such as Highland Park & Cape Town City would be regular visitors to the Oval in PE Central.

As the District Treasurer of Rotoract – 1978 to 1980 with Derek Carstens in the foreground

In order to save money, we would generally hitch hike back home. This would still mean a walk of about 10 blocks as I would be dropped at the junction of Cape Road and 3^rd Avenue at 11pm.

The Dawn of a New Country

Shortly before the dawn of the New Country, strange noises were heard emanating from the black political parties. Some were extremely disconcerting and worrisome.

My Rhodesian Interlude with Franci du Pisanie in 1977 working for Price Waterhouse in Salisbury. House in Highlands where we stayed

None accorded with what I remembered of the past. I wracked my brains but I remained perplexed.

The first accusation was that white males had acquired their positions by having white skins and not through any other means. As I retrieved my CA (SA) certificate, I became anxious. How had I surreptitious acquired this piece of paper? Was it by some nefarious means?

Official Graduation photograph

Casting my mind back, I recall having signed a five year Articles of Clerkship Contract at the tender age of 18 with a local firm of Chartered Accountants –Starling, Treasure & Blaker. The day commenced at 8am and we knocked-off at 5pm. It was then a mad rush through the rush hour traffic to lectures at UPE, the bastion of the Broederbond in Summerstrand.

That was no fantasy. I was not partaking of the stuff that the Beatles advocated – Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. I distinctly remember the daily university run in my decrepit 20 year old VW Beetle out past Humewood & Pollock Beaches along the beach front to the varsity.

I recall getting home dog tired after long days having to survive on a pittance. Nothing was given to me on a plate. After failing my CA on my first attempt, this regime was dragged out to a 6 year slog.

First house with Cathy Rijs, Mrs McCleland #1

Then we were told that the whites had acquired the land illegally. Again first an admission! Perhaps my memory is defective, but I remember purchasing the fallow land from a third party and personally arranging for Gough Cooper to build a house on the erf. I can swear to these facts. Perhaps the current government does not accept the bona fides of a person with a white skin, but I will avow that the facts are 100% correct beyond reasonable doubt.

By the Eighties South Africa had started transforming – but not always in a positive acceptable way. Most notably violence in all its manifestations became prevalent. Instead of a housebreaking, it now included the wanton murder of the inhabitants as well.

Snow at 219 Kastaiing Street in September 1982 looking towards Constantia Kloof where I now live

The scourge of car hi-jacking also made its appearance. South Africa & Gauteng in particular became the hi-jacking capital of the world. How did the average person fight back? They installed gear locks, immobilisers and ultimately some form of Tracking System. The criminal’s simplest expedient to overcome these defences was to hi-jack one’s vehicle in the drive-way. It was a stalemate. Technology was easily vanquished by the simplest of techniques and ruses.

With the violence especially that arising in the townships in opposition to the Apartheid Regime, a climate of fear and loathing was instilled. Like some medieval bulwark, high walls miraculously arose surrounding all properties as every dwelling became a fortress. As the local police were unable to assist with the defence of one’s castle, those not willing to acquire firearms for their own self- protection, employed the services of a Security Services Company.

With Liz Driver and a friend’s child

The carefree, relaxed lifestyle was swiftly being transformed into a violent, high-security way of life. No longer could one’s children walk two doors down to play with their friends. They had to be fetched and carried; their parents becoming chauffeurs to their demanding kids.

Fishing in the local stream with one’s friends was now verboten. Anything but a friend’s house was now off-limits. The fields and streams were now devoid of inquisitive children exploring the world. Confined to their homes, the only exploring that would now be done was the Internet and the local mall.

Blaine

The Birth of a new Racism

Of course there were the positives which occurred simultaneously. The scrapping of discriminatory measures, the white man’s burden, removed the treatment of the non-white population of South Africa as second class citizens in their own homeland.

Instead of the steady removal of all clauses in legislation referring to one’s race classification, a whole array of novel measures were implemented which required the retention of racial identities. These included such discriminatory measures as employment based upon demographics – a euphemism for race – and supplier preferences. No criteria such as ability, merit or cost transcended these considerations. Being an adjunct of government, the Civil Service implemented these measures with gusto. Incompetence steadily eroded these entities ability to provide efficient services and standards declined. All those who even alluded to these absurdities were labelled a racist of the worst kind.

Me with touselled hair and the wild man from Borneo look

The topsy-turvy world of ANC economics and social engineering was in full swing: South Africa’s very own Alice in Wonderland had been born.

The fruits of this policy are now being reaped: Eskom, SAA and the Post Office being just some of the egregious examples.

The song containing the words “when will they ever learn” springs readily to mind.

From a carefree idyll, South Africa has transmogrified into a crime infested, corrupt & inept country.

With a German friend.Before you ask: NO I did not

For that reason I contend that the New South Africa born with such high hopes and expectations like all newly-borns, has taken the low road frequently taken to perdition and disaster.

Just the fuse has to be lit now.

For many reasons and not exclusively for the the reasons mentioned above, South Africa is no longer the country of my birth.

It is a pale imitation of that world.

Lament its passing but not how the other races were treated – abominably and unfairly.

But never ever mourn the passing of the carefree relaxed idyll ideal for the raising of children for that it now but a faded memory.