The new South Africa
My name is Ida Mackenzie, but I prefer if you’d call me “Mrs. Mackenzie”. Every morning at exactly 7.30 a.m. my alarm rings routinely. Routine is important, especially to me. I believe in the three R’s: Routine, Reliability and Respect. And therefor in my opinion no home could be hold successfully without these three great terms. Because of this I hate when I get unexpected visitors.
At 7.35 a.m. I reach for the silver bell and shake it. The silver bell is placed right beside the bed on the table next to my clock. I have inherited the bell from my mother. As a recall to the bell my maid, Beauty, will come to my bed with coffee and homemade rusks, and go through a ...view middle of the document...
One day Beauty stayed away, and I felt abandoned, betrayed, disappointed and helpless. I have always and will always like how orderly things used to be, with the blacks getting off the pavements for whites and respecting the obvious curfew at nightfall. My maids life in Vilakazi Township have never been in my interest, the fact that she was reliable according to my routines and not failed my test was enough for me to trust her.
I realize things have to change, but giving-in to the black – that I despise. I compare these feelings with being a prisoner in my own country, our country not theirs. We are preparing to give everything up, and with that I mean respect and what our ancestors in their time worked for, they worked for feeding their individual families, and now we are completely giving-in to the blacks and their communist friends. Nelson Mandela believes we are all equal, and there should be no differences between skin-colors. Is that fair to our ancestors? They fought for our country, and we are now letting it all slip away. Nothing is like it used to be, and all whites don’t feel safe anymore.
In my block there aren’t any black residents yet, but most likely soon there will be. The sight of blacks and whites voting together in the television doesn’t approach to me. The equality is already among us. My parents taught me as a child that the world belonged to our kind, and my husband agreed. For me it’s all coming to an end. What I always believing in doesn’t matter anymore. It now occurs to me that my parents and my husband lied.
I, Ida Mackenzie, will not be celebrating in the behalf of the ANC.