.Here the story of South Africa from someone who was there….
I am proudly South African and absolutely love my country. What’s not to love?
I am also not a racist having spent 3 months in an African jail for my views on the unfairness of Apartheid
I had just started school when it was rudely brought home to me that the great life that we had was about to be turned on its head. My mother, who was pregnant with my youngest brother, was driving home from town (Bulawayo) when her car was stoned by a furious crowd of protestors and she barely got out of there alive. She gave premature birth to my brother at home that night as we could not risk taking her to the hospital. My father, an ex-navy man, was a member of the neighborhood watch. About a week after my mother’s harrowing experience, he was out in the early hours of the morning on neighborhood patrol. The dogs warned us that something was amiss and grandpa bravely went to see what was wrong. He found my father, barely alive, having been beaten severely and dropped on our front porch. At the time this served as a warning that “we know who you are and where you live and can get you any time we want”.
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