Is Safety in South Africa Really suc a big Issue?
In 1986 my parents moved us to a farm just outside of a small little God forsaken town, about 60 kilometers outside of Johannesburg called, Delmas.
As a young child, I had grown up with the apartheid era, and being white in those days had put you automatically in the “good’ side of the fence.
Now, as you can imagine, as a child of 10, rasicm and apartheid had no meaning to me. I had no idea what was going on, things were as they were, and have always been. We had a good life. We had enough money to live. We had not been rich, but at least we had food on the table, and a good sized house to live in.
We could play outside until late, sometimes our parents didn’t even know what we were up to, or where we were doing it. As long as we were home by the time it got dark, they were not worried about us.
The maid who worked in the house, had looked after us during the day, because my parents had to work. The gardener was also semi- in charge of us kids, because we were a bunch of hooligans, o say the least!
My parents had brought us up to be strong people, and to back up what we...
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