A few months ago, I found myself in a stuffy room crammed with people from every walk of life.
It’s been a roller coaster week for us Young Lions.
There have been rumblings from a number of quarters across South Africa that the negotiated settlement reached in the early 1990s was rubbish. It was “selling out”.
Let’s play a game. I say something and you say the first thing that comes to mind.
Before I delve into why I don’t want to braai any more, let me start with why I should be.
I have had a superlative kick-off to Heritage Month.
Many years ago, a tall, skinny guy with a comically high-pitched voice walked into Parliament and appeared before a subcommittee on arts and culture.
Years before President Barack Obama became the first person of colour to be elected to the highest office in the US, New York had its own Obama moment when David Dinkins became the first black mayor of the city.
Years ago as an 18-year-old “boy” studying in Cape Town, I often found myself in the company of a group of Xhosa men who were all the same age as me.
Many years ago, a young farmer and his new wife had to move house quite suddenly.
When I was six or seven years old, I saw the Freedom Charter on the walls of Solomon Mahlangu Freedom College in Tanzania. A kid slightly older than me read out each of its eight commandments, explaining what it meant.
It was exactly 102 years ago that my hero was born.
City Press on Twitter
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I run because I run, and lately it feels like I’ve been running for my life.
Ordinary people are adversely affected by load shedding, and there may well be disastrous consequences for jobs, livelihoods and our sinking economy.
We hear it all the time, especially during the festive season. Many of South Africa’s taxis are death traps.