Memoir | Road Trip | Part V of VI

Embarking on an official road trip from Pretoria, South Africa, to Botswana was far more than just an adventure for me; it exposed me to profound revelations about the country.

I was accompanied by two South African employees, Mr. Babadu and Joshua, who drove me to Botswana. Joshua was young and talkative, while Mr. Babadu was a quiet, older gentleman.

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Before sunrise, we embarked on our journey in an SUV, surrounded by the cloak of night.

We made a brief stop at McDonald’s to fuel up with breakfast sandwiches, orange juice, coffee, and water. With our hunger sated, we continued our path, and it was during this drive that I was struck by the vast stretches of unoccupied land that unfolded before me.

I couldn’t comprehend why the government didn’t allocate some of this enormous land to impoverished Black South Africans. The reason was clear to me — racism.

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In the distance, a cluster of brightly colored tin shacks caught my eye. I turned to Joshua and asked him about those structures. He explained that it was Soweto, an acronym for South Western Townships, where a tragic uprising had once occurred.

The sight of those rundown tin shacks filled me with a deep sense of sorrow.

“The Soweto uprising was caused by apartheid. Schools were separate for black and white students, and the education received in the schools for black students was mediocre. When it was decided that Afrikaans, a language developed from the Dutch spoken by early settlers, would be used as the language of instruction in all schools, the students in Soweto protested. They were already receiving a lesser education, but with instruction given in Afrikaans, they would learn even less, as it was not their native language. Thousands of black students protested on June 16, 1976, for the right to a better education.”

Apartheid was a policy of racial segregation and discrimination enforced in South Africa from 1948 to the early 1990s, including education, healthcare, and residence.

Observing the living conditions of Black South Africans was a stark reminder of racial housing discrimination, which was comparable to the housing projects where I was raised in the United States.

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As we continued our journey, we encountered vast grasslands engulfed in flames on the side of the roads. Concerned, I suggested calling for a fire truck, only to be laughed at by Mr. Babadu and Joshua.

My curiosity was piqued, so I asked them why the land was on fire. They told me that these controlled fires were intentionally set to stimulate new grass growth or manage the development of thorny scrub.

Witnessing the vast expanse of land ablaze left me utterly awestruck!

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During our drive, Joshua turned to me and referred to me as “Coloured.”

Puzzled, I asked him what he meant by that term. He explained that it meant I was a Caucasian woman.

I corrected him, saying that I was a light-skinned African American woman with the skin tone of a Caucasian woman. I went on to explain that my father is a dark-skinned African American man, and my light skin tone comes from my Caucasian grandfather, who married my dark-skinned grandmother.

I shared with him that my African American community often marginalizes me, and my darker-skinned family members sometimes harbor resentment towards me because of my lighter skin color.

I was unaware of the racial classification system in South Africa.

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The road trip illuminated the stark realities of housing and educational discrimination, as well as the pervasive issue of colorism, giving me a deeper understanding of Black South Africans’ ongoing struggles.

It also revealed their unique method of burning grass to manage the growth of thorny scrub across vast grasslands.

The road trip through South Africa was truly eye-opening!

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