It is hard work being called the most famous white woman in South Africa. As I sail into my 82nd year, still with a 12-year-old’s heart beating with excitement, I realise that no education could have prepared me for this moment.
No hobby or interest could have armed me against this total onslaught of life, and no government could protect me from a world outside and the turmoil within.
So I am irritated by a Women’s Day and a Women’s Month.
We don’t have the luxury of enjoying those 31 days in August, or that dreaded 9th day of the month, because we are busy working for a future.
The government notices us during August and if their promises could come true, our world would be a happier place.
By now we know that most of it is just an attractive shop window filled with products that are sold on our tears and pain.
Money is collected to prevent more unhappiness - somewhere. We look forward to the resulting changes in our lives. We also have urgent ideas to contribute. We just hope someone will listen to us once this month of August is over.
There are more women in our nation than men and in spite of a constitution that protects us, some of us are more frightened than ever before.
The trouble is we can’t compete with the symbol of what we are meant to be. Extraordinary is a word often used for a successful woman.
And yet every day I meet women who change the world around them without fame or fortune. No one photoshops them. No house of fashion gives them gowns.
They are seldom reflected on our small screens in soaps or dramas. There is seldom a red carpet for these women to walk along, seldom a spotlight for selfies and snaps, seldom a special day for them to kick off their shoes and just relax because someone else will do the chores.
They are the mothers who work all day to put their children through an education while fetching water from a tap at the top of a hill or a river at the bottom of a valley.
The gogos and grannies who protect their small offspring against the poverty and violence that threaten life and limb.
The daughter who tries to finish school while being mommy to others who have no one.
The working women who scarcely take home enough cash to treat their family to a fresh meal.
The so-called disabled women who use their disabilities to prove that the truly disabled ones are us who’ve forgotten how to use our abilities to enrich lives and encourage hope.
These citizens don’t have time to celebrate a Woman’s Day. They are just the millions of ordinary women doing extraordinary things, for whom every day is the first day of the rest of their lives.
* This is part of a Women’s Month series.