Apartheid memories hurt

Published Oct 10, 2014

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The mind boggles at the statement that we should move on from apartheid. Nothing that is declared illegal is ever obeyed by all, as we have all experienced in our lives.

The many abhorrent violations of humanity in this country and around the world should never be forgotten, although they may be forgiven with grace.

The shameful apartheid system, the holocaust, slavery in all forms, human trafficking, female infanticide, prenatal female foeticide, the caste system (last three are still prevalent in India) are all examples of human rights violations.

Sadly, some of the apartheid evil is not past history, but is very relevant in this century.

We need to take a leaf out of the Jewish nation’s book. They have never forgotten their persecution, and they ensure that the world never forgets the Holocaust – probably the worst abuse of human rights ever, as there was no turning back for millions, but just a journey to certain death.

Many of the youth in South Africa are totally unaware of how apartheid ravaged previous generations, mine included. They tend to disbelieve us or laugh it off, or suggest we are exaggerating.

We need to ensure that future generations are taught, as part of history, about apartheid and how it affected us as communities and as individuals. Let us forgive, as that is a divinely ordained virtue, but we must never, ever forget.

Whole communities were affected by apartheid – separate schools for different races, separate hospitals, separate beaches, separate universities, and so on.

These practices kept the races apart for so long that trust went out the window, and this distrust unfortunately continues to this day.

Just because racism has now been decreed illegal does not mean things are now all hunky-dory with all of us.

White people feel we now have a democratically elected government and we should all just move on.

What hogwash. Subliminally, our minds were subjected to the belief that we were inferior to white people, no matter how much this is denied by many people today.

Individually, many of us cringe when we think about apartheid. I remember travelling on SAA from Durban to Johannesburg to catch an international flight.

Seats for those who were not white were at the back of the aircraft, and we obediently accepted these, even though we had paid the same fare.

At the domestic terminal, we were served through a hatch, while the white people sat in comfort in the restaurant.

At this stage, my husband and I were qualified doctors. We did not want special treatment – we just wanted to be treated like human beings.

As graduates of the University of Natal Medical School, as it was known then, we were not part of a proper university.

Our first year of science subjects were taught way down in Wentworth in an old army barracks, while a fully equipped science department existed at Howard College.

We were considered not good enough to be educated on the main campus.

Thankfully, we had good lecturers in Wentworth. But the facilities at Howard College, including the library, were not open to us lesser beings.

Some of the memories still hurt – like being made to use separate lifts, eating places and toilets.

During many trips to other parts of the country, toilet facilities for “non-whites” were a joke or non-existent. As a result, we stopped visiting other places in South Africa.

Apartheid affected us – body, mind and soul. Just being brown in colour determined so much in our lives. Our minds were conditioned into believing we were inferior, inadequate and less intelligent.

Our souls were wounded for life, and wounds heal with a scar that remains for ever.

No matter how we progressed – educationally, socially and economically – successive generations still felt the need to prove themselves.

My first real association with white people was when I was appointed as a consultant at Addington Hospital in the early 1980s.

I had two wards to supervise – the white ward in the very posh new hospital and a “coloured” ward way out in an old building. It was totally separate from the main hospital.

Initially, I was terrified to go into that hospital, as I was very concerned about the reaction from white patients and staff.

I was afraid to take the lift, as I was not sure if I was even allowed in it. But my ward was on the 12th floor, so I had no choice. Everyone in the lift looked at me as if I were an alien!

I never forgot the first few days there. I found the patients soon accepted me, and so did the staff, but they had no choice.

I am sure many will find all this unbelievable, but it is the truth.

I hope my comments are taken to heart, and I hope the history of apartheid (with all its gory details) is taught for many generations to come.

It tells of our journey – where we came from, where we have got to, and where we are heading.

Our history gives us direction. It should never be forgotten, like the other history of man’s inhumanity to man.

Peace to all – om Shanti.

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