All my life I have lived within the shadow of the colour of my skin
In a country where no one of darker hue was ever acknowledged as kin
In a place where forced removals and alienation lived by my side
Where because of race, colour and creed, access to the vote was denied.
A place where guilt stalked my conscience as surely as freckles colour my skin,
Where my pigmentation guaranteed me a host of untold rights
Where, because of Caucasian heritage I was amongst the “whites”.
In the years of my childhood I fleetingly went to a “mixed” school
Then the apartheid government flexed its muscle and imposed its rule
The suburb was declared a “coloured area” and school moved away
We said goodbye to friends and hoped to see them on another day
Because we were so very young and innocent we did not realise
It would be nearly forty years before we could look them in the eyes
Stripped of our humanity, the government made us objects to despise.
My parents were born and grown before the apartheid laws ruled the land
Before it raised its evil head and tore the fabric of our country apart strand by strand.
And even though the colonial rule was discriminating of class and creed
Of the separation and classification into us and them there was no need
The values and mores of truth, justice and equality, and, above all democracy
Were part of our childhood and our youth and our parents’ everlasting legacy,
Brought up to believe that the only valid measurement and standard was decency.
But we lived our lives in this bitter, twisted environment where difference was to be feared
Under rulers that followed those who disagreed, swiftly making sure they were not heard,
Our friends went to die in far off foreign African lands for causes never known
Those who returned came back bitter and afraid, innocence and youth had flown,
Kept apart by laws whose contravention could mean death
One either fought the might of the oppressor or saved one’s breath,
Convinced that one day the wheel would turn and we could all stand together, not alone.
Many packed and left, taking memories and prejudice packed up in their bags
Deftly erasing memories of shanty towns and hungry kids dressed in rags
Going to new Caucasian countries where there would be less opportunity for hate
Of those left behind, some fell into the racist trap, devastating those less fortunate,
Taking a perverse pride in perpetrating acts of cruelty to horrific to enumerate
But were exposed by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission under our beloved Tutu
In horror we listened to atrocities committed secretly, worse even than those borne by the Hutu.
In small but precious ways we tried to break the rules, help those with nowhere to go
Regardless of creed or colour, waiting for the horns to signal the fall of the walls of Jericho
Treat all with respect and human dignity and, most of all, with a sense of equality
Building bridges tiny block by tiny block, reaching across the racial divide
Deprived of common language, the task ever more difficult but never set aside
The day our new democracy dawned and the queues to vote stretched for miles
My mother said for the first time she felt proud to be South African, her face all smiles.
But the gap between the haves and the have not’s like a cancer grows
Now the creed is status and the colour money – across all races it shows
Xenophobic attacks left populations of the displaced to tremble in fear
Samuel from DRC lives in our garage away from hate – it is safest for him here
But today the face of the world has changed in ways hard to understand
An African American president elected in America will change more than just that land
For the first time in history the Western world has opened it eyes and
Voted not for race but for democracy and the measure of the man.
In this troubled country, we with our bloody and horrific history,
How important this step is, is something we can truly understand.
For liberty, freedom and equality in this precious moment in history,
I raise my hand……thank you to the land of the brave and the free!
In a country where no one of darker hue was ever acknowledged as kin
In a place where forced removals and alienation lived by my side
Where because of race, colour and creed, access to the vote was denied.
A place where guilt stalked my conscience as surely as freckles colour my skin,
Where my pigmentation guaranteed me a host of untold rights
Where, because of Caucasian heritage I was amongst the “whites”.
In the years of my childhood I fleetingly went to a “mixed” school
Then the apartheid government flexed its muscle and imposed its rule
The suburb was declared a “coloured area” and school moved away
We said goodbye to friends and hoped to see them on another day
Because we were so very young and innocent we did not realise
It would be nearly forty years before we could look them in the eyes
Stripped of our humanity, the government made us objects to despise.
My parents were born and grown before the apartheid laws ruled the land
Before it raised its evil head and tore the fabric of our country apart strand by strand.
And even though the colonial rule was discriminating of class and creed
Of the separation and classification into us and them there was no need
The values and mores of truth, justice and equality, and, above all democracy
Were part of our childhood and our youth and our parents’ everlasting legacy,
Brought up to believe that the only valid measurement and standard was decency.
But we lived our lives in this bitter, twisted environment where difference was to be feared
Under rulers that followed those who disagreed, swiftly making sure they were not heard,
Our friends went to die in far off foreign African lands for causes never known
Those who returned came back bitter and afraid, innocence and youth had flown,
Kept apart by laws whose contravention could mean death
One either fought the might of the oppressor or saved one’s breath,
Convinced that one day the wheel would turn and we could all stand together, not alone.
Many packed and left, taking memories and prejudice packed up in their bags
Deftly erasing memories of shanty towns and hungry kids dressed in rags
Going to new Caucasian countries where there would be less opportunity for hate
Of those left behind, some fell into the racist trap, devastating those less fortunate,
Taking a perverse pride in perpetrating acts of cruelty to horrific to enumerate
But were exposed by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission under our beloved Tutu
In horror we listened to atrocities committed secretly, worse even than those borne by the Hutu.
In small but precious ways we tried to break the rules, help those with nowhere to go
Regardless of creed or colour, waiting for the horns to signal the fall of the walls of Jericho
Treat all with respect and human dignity and, most of all, with a sense of equality
Building bridges tiny block by tiny block, reaching across the racial divide
Deprived of common language, the task ever more difficult but never set aside
The day our new democracy dawned and the queues to vote stretched for miles
My mother said for the first time she felt proud to be South African, her face all smiles.
But the gap between the haves and the have not’s like a cancer grows
Now the creed is status and the colour money – across all races it shows
Xenophobic attacks left populations of the displaced to tremble in fear
Samuel from DRC lives in our garage away from hate – it is safest for him here
But today the face of the world has changed in ways hard to understand
An African American president elected in America will change more than just that land
For the first time in history the Western world has opened it eyes and
Voted not for race but for democracy and the measure of the man.
In this troubled country, we with our bloody and horrific history,
How important this step is, is something we can truly understand.
For liberty, freedom and equality in this precious moment in history,
I raise my hand……thank you to the land of the brave and the free!
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