The Beer Bottle Cut

Growing up in Kliptown, one of the many townships we moved through after being evicted from Albertville under the Group Areas Act, I learned early on about hardship, survival, and unexpected lessons that life throws at you. One memory stands out, not only because of the pain I endured but also because of the deeper lessons it carried for my family and me.

At the time, we were living in a rundown old farmhouse with broken windows patched up with cardboard and an old coal stove in the kitchen. My dad was a handyman, though his work was never stable, and my mom worked as a seamstress in a clothing factory in the city. Though money was tight, my dad and his friends would often gather on our porch to play cards and share a few beers. I often think about those scenes, still seeing people gathered on stoeps today jobless, yet somehow finding money for a drink.

One Saturday morning, when I was just five years old, my dad called me over and told me to run to the local tavern to fetch him a beer. There was no room for hesitation. I was told to hurry—no dilly-dallying—or risk punishment. With that warning echoing in my ears, I charged down the dirt streets of Kliptown, barefoot as we often were, rushing through the litter and broken glass scattered on the road. Fearful of what might happen if I took too long, I didn't notice the broken bottle lying in my path.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp sting in my foot. I looked down to see blood pouring out of a deep cut. Panic set in as I stood there crying, unsure of what to do. A passerby who knew my family quickly came to my aid, running to get my mother. She rushed me to the local hospital, where I ended up needing 15 stitches to close the wound.

When I got home, I was safe from any punishment. But my dad wasn’t so lucky. My mother was furious with him, and for days afterward, he received her verbal whipping—not because I had taken too long, but because I’d been sent on such a dangerous errand in the first place.

Looking back on that day, the lessons I learned were more than just about physical pain. There are deeper takeaways that resonate with me to this day:

1. The Impact of Unintended Consequences

In our rush to fulfil demands or expectations, we sometimes overlook the risks involved. My dad likely never thought about the broken glass in the street when he sent me on that errand, but the consequences were real. It’s a reminder to all of us to consider the safety and well-being of others, especially when giving responsibilities to those younger or less prepared.

2. Parental Responsibility and the Weight of Choices

Parents, especially those in difficult financial situations, often carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. My dad’s decision that day was rooted in a common habit, but it came at a cost. The experience was a reminder that even small choices can have lasting impacts, and as adults, we must always weigh the risks of our actions on the ones we love.

3. The Strength of a Mother’s Voice

While my dad was the one who gave the orders, it was my mother who stood up for me afterward. Her words, though harsh at times, were driven by love and a fierce sense of protection. There’s a lesson in the power of a mother’s voice and her role in holding the family together, even in tough times. She wasn’t afraid to speak up when she knew something was wrong, and that courage is something I’ve carried with me.

4. Resilience in the Face of Pain

That deep cut left me with a scar, but it also left me with a story of resilience. We all have scars, whether they’re physical or emotional, but they don’t define us. What defines us is how we choose to heal from those wounds, learn from them, and move forward. The pain of that day was temporary, but the lesson in resilience is lifelong.

5. Breaking the Cycle

In many communities like Kliptown, it’s easy to get stuck in cycles of poverty, alcohol, and hardship. Seeing my dad and his friends gather for drinks while struggling with unemployment was common, but it also showed me how important it is to rise above those habits. The incident with the beer bottle made me realize that there are healthier ways to deal with life’s challenges—ways that don’t put us or others at risk.

6. The Value of Time and Awareness

Had I been more aware of my surroundings, or had I taken my time despite the fear of punishment, I might have avoided the injury. Life has a way of teaching us that rushing through things, especially when fear is driving us, often leads to mistakes. This memory reminds me of the importance of slowing down, even when it feels like everything is urgent.

This childhood experience taught me more than just the physical pain of a cut; it showed me the power of decisions, the importance of family, and the resilience that lives within us all. My dad may have received his verbal whipping, but the real lesson was that every moment in life carries the potential to shape our future. It’s up to us to learn from those moments and use them to grow into better, more aware individuals.