Giles and Pheobe were delighted to see us
and demanded out attention non- stop, but
then I suppose they deserved it. We had
been away for more than two weeks and
yet we were, all four of us, still talking to
each other! In our last few days in Jo’burg,
Andy, Marc and I did the tourist things like
museums, but the most interesting and I
suppose most significant event, was to go
with Marc and Brigid to their local polling
station when they voted. To see and stand
in line with a mass of black and white faces
queuing to make their choice is an encour-
aging and strangely emotional experience.
My only brush with apartheid was in the
early eighties, when I refused to go on
what would have been a dream trip; Preto-
ria, Durban, Cape Town and Johannesburg, refurbishing their EMIScanners, because I wanted no part
of their system. Now, although there is still a long way to go and there may be problems on the way,
South Africa has made giant strides in the right direction.
Next morning Maltha, the ‘lady what does’ for Marc and Brigid, proudly displayed her thumb with its in-
delible black mark on the quick of her nail, that proved she had voted. Then she told us about what it
was like to vote in April 1994, for the very first time in her life - she is not a slip of a girl - and her face
just glowed.
That was about it really. We had met old friends and, I hope, made new ones. We saw where history
was made and where mistakes made history. We had learned to drive on sand and seen wild animals
wild. We had seen different parts of Africa and learned a fraction more about what Africa is. We know
it is not for sissies, but we are also certain we have to go back.
-- Roger Whittle
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