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And as we drive along the coast road to the beach, a bus fares down towards me and above the driver’s head is a big sign that says Whites-only. As we arrive at the beach, there is a big fence down in the middle of the beach dividing the beautiful white big sandy section into a small little black rocky section.
So I turn to my mom and I say, “Mommy, where is there a fence on the beach?”
And she says, “Honey, that’s to keep the white people separate from the black people”.
So I am 10 years old and on this journey alone, I have already learned that black people are dangerous because they might hijack our car. And black people need to be kept separate.
I am 10 years-old and I’m already a racist.
Later in his story he says:
So imagine the scene, I’m driving down the street at 10 o’clock on a Monday morning two weeks later to move into this new house that I’ve never seen before. And the street is deserted except the two men sitting drinking beer on beer crates. And I open the door to my new house. I am thinking, “Wow, several steps down from the house I used to live in, right, which was that one. But I’m pretty grateful because I could have been living in that with no running water.
So I got out of my car to unload the boxes off my car. And as I do, a crowd started to gather around the car. I’m thinking oh, man – it must have been 10 to 15 black people standing there. And a woman comes forward to me and she says, Umlongo, what are you doing? Umlongo, means whitey in their local language which is called [kotta].