So its a Tuesday morning and I'm sitting in the office reading another dose of miserable, sad and heart-breaking stories about my homeland. Maybe I shouldn't let it affect me so much but it really does. I want to take away the anger, I want to take away the hurt, most importantly I want to make some kind of difference.
But alas, what can I do?
So instead I feel like telling my story briefly just to illustrate that not all in this world should be taken at face value. I am a young, white male who recently moved back to the Cape after a 5 and a half year stint in Johannesburg (ok will maybe not that young anymore). In the last 2 months I have been told on at least 2 occasions that I am not a true African and that this country does not belong to me because I am white.
I am by no means belittling any of the history and wrongs that were made in the past but I feel this comment is a seriously unfair one.
I was born in the late 80's, 1987 to be exact, at the back end of Apartheid. My father was a manager on the Sapekoe tea estates near Tzaneen at the time. The hospital where I was born was Elim hospital right in the heart of the Gazankulu homeland.
This was a Swiss missionary hospital and I have been told I was one of the very first 'white' babies born there. This I can't verify but what I can tell you is that I definitely was the first white baby that Sister Maboko, the midwife, had delivered.
As a gift the local Shagaan people asked my parents if they could give me a name which my parents extremely gratefully accepted. I was given the name Ntsako, which means happiness. My full name is Jeremy James Ntsako Hammond and consider it a great honour and blessing. An honour that I never truly appreciated till later in my life.
I have been blessed with two of the most loving, kind and liberal parents and thus I was brought up never even knowing that there was a racial divide. In fact the first time I ever realised this and possibly where I made my first white friend was in primary school 6 years later. I honestly could write for days but I will fast forward a bit to standard 8 (grade 10), at hostel in my high school years.
This is the year where another learner found my ID and read my subsequent full name. I dont want to be painting myself as a victim in any way, shape or form so I guess I must choose my words wisely. But I was mocked for being a white boy with this name (probably more out of kids misunderstanding more than anything else), and I actually got upset with my folks for giving it to me.
Its funny when you are at school you somehow want the approval of other kids so badly.
Looking back now I'm extremely saddened that I didn't just stand up and say stuff you I am proud to be called Ntsako. The beauty of hind site and being a little wiser I guess. I am a South African (I would say proudly, but right now I am not all that proud of my country) and this is my home, its in my blood and its who I am. No one and nothing can ever take that away from me.
I don't know if anyone may find this interesting but I wanted to share it anyway.
This is my home and I don't want to feel like a foreigner in my own country.