The School Cap

1997 in South Africa was a heady year!

Our fledgling rainbow nation was working together to overcome the scourge of the apartheid era.

Kwa Zulu Natal was right there leading the way.   The powers that be were breaking new ground in every field and hopes ran high.

Our family had chosen to move to KZN in the 70’s because of its progressive leanings.   People of all races lived together and respected one another far more than in other provinces as far as we were concerned. We embraced the elections in 1994 with jubilation despite the terrible war between the IFP and the ANC in the rural areas and the surrounding townships.   Finally we had all come together and put aside our differences and celebrated our diversity.

That year, 1997, a momentous occasion happened in Pietermaritzburg when two Agricultural Unions in the Province decided to join hands and amalgamate.    KWANALU. Kwazulu-Natal Agricultural Union was born.   This union was to represent all farmers in the province no matter what their colour or language was.

I had heard along the grapevine that a launch was to take place at the Royal Showgrounds and as I was Public Relations Officer for a relatively new school in town I wanted our school to be part of the proceedings.   I approached Lolly Stuart, the doyenne of Eventing, who had been tasked with putting the programme together and she said if we could sing the new anthem of South Africa (which very few school choirs could at that point) we would be included.   I was elated.   Our music teacher, Petra Byloo, had already taught the choir to sing this very important song and I invited the organizing committee to come and listen to them.

Mrs Byloo, a very talented teacher was very reluctant but with some gentle persuasion she complied and long story short we found ourselves heading off to the Royal Showgrounds on the appointed day.

Another first for KZN – King Goodwill Zwelithini, Dr Buthelezi, Head of the IFP and the President of our country, Mr Nelson Mandela were going to share centre stage!   Security was tight.

We shuttled the children from school in our school kombi which took several trips.   They were issued with white sun visors and they looked very smart in their pin neat uniforms.   White shirts and grey shorts, navy socks and blue tunics for the girls emblazoned with the school badge and motto ‘Deus Ducit – God Leads’.   We were so proud.

The programme was long and many speeches were delivered before it was our turn to shine.   I had decided that as a tribute to our President we would present him with a school cap.   As school caps had been phased out a few years previously at our school it had become a tradition to present important people with the highest honour our school could bestow and that was a school cap.  I wrote our school motto in the inside of the cap and ‘To Mr Mandela from all of us at St Nicholas Diocesan School.’

When I saw that all the dignitaries were seated in a marquee in the middle of the field and all the entertainers were positioned quite far away on the left hand side my heart sank.   How were we going to present him with the cap? Bodyguards and snipers were positioned all around him even up on the roof of the stadium.

I called two little boys to one side and instructed them to take the cap to Mr Mandela while the choir were filing on to the field but that if they were stopped by the bodyguards they were just to turn back and join the choir.   They agreed and off the children went following Mrs Byloo on to the field.

Our headmaster, a very English gentleman, stood with arms outstretched as he was holding the many little sun visors for the children up and down his arms.

‘Who would have thought?’ he muttered.

‘This is so surreal’.

I had to agree with him.   Who would have thought that we would be part of such a momentous occasion?

I saw the two little boys break ranks and I held my breath.   They walked directly up to Madiba and presented him with the cap.   The bodyguards did not even see them!

Madiba bent down and enfolded them both in a huge bear hug and promptly put the cap on his head and folded his arms.   A grin spread across his face.   The two boys scampered back to the choir and we all stood to sing the Anthem.   Tears poured down my face.   At last I felt that I was part of a country.   A truly democratic country!

When the anthem was finished Mrs Byloo started another song called ‘ mBube – the Lion sleeps tonight’ a traditional hunting song, the stadium erupted.   People were dancing in the aisles and the atmosphere was electric.   We thought the dignitaries would leave but no…

From the marquee a lone figure emerged doing his famous dance and he sported a navy blue school cap.

The children had been threatened to watch their teacher at all times but they could see a movement out of the corner of their eyes.   They found it hard to concentrate even with the firm, furious gaze of their teacher focused on them.

Madiba moved over to stand directly next to Mrs Byloo and the children grinned from ear to ear.   He danced and clapped his hands and when the song was finished he turned, took the cap off his head and shook Mrs Byloo’s hand.   I remember seeing her throw her head back and laugh.   She could not believe that the President of our country was standing next to her shaking her hand.   He thanked the children and then turned to go.

Tribal dancers from Fezokuhle School then came on to the field and led the dignitaries to where a lunch had been prepared for them.   The Madiba magic was broken but not before 50 odd little boys and girls had been touched by it not withstanding their teachers, their Headmaster and especially their Public Relations Officer!

That night as I watched national TV I was elated to see our school choir, Mrs Byloo and Mr Nelson Mandela featured in the slot on the launch of the new Agricultural Union in KZN.

Better still the next day on the front page of the Witness there was a lovely photograph of Nelson Mandela in his special Madiba shirt sporting a navy blue school cap and the headlines read ‘ Madiba Shuffle’.

What a red letter day for our school!

I wonder where the cap is today.

I dreamed of Africa!

I dreamed of Africa!

Have you ever read the book ‘I dreamed of Africa’?   It had a deep and wonderful impression on me when I was young and I always dreamed of travelling up to deepest and darkest Africa.   We never had the opportunity in our youth but now that we are nearing retirement the doors have opened.

We have been invited to a fishing lodge on the great Zambezi quite close to Victoria Falls. What a wonderful experience this has been!

After three days of travel through South Africa, up Botswana into Zimbabwe at Panamatenga and across the Matetsi Reserve we eventually arrived at Msuna Fishing Resort.

To say that we were in the thick of the bush would be to put it mildly. The people living in the Zambezi valley live very simple uncomplicated lives.   They have very little access to shops so live off the river and grow their vegetables on the flood plains which are very fertile.   We had to bring everything in with us even water to drink.

The friends with us are all likeminded and love the bush.   They enjoy fishing and are great to be with.   Such fun and much laughter.

We wake to the sounds of the Heuglin’s Robin which can repeat it’s call up to 16 times!   The fish eagle is our constant friend and the sound of the hippos chatting goes on right through the days and nights.   It is wonderful to get right back to nature and relax

Zimbabwe is in turmoil again as the people have not been paid by the government for months and the drought and cost of goods escalate.  Cross border traders are being hampered by government legislation and the poor get poorer while the rich stow their money in other countries.   Yet the people are peaceful, kind and their laughter rings over the valley as they go about looking after the herds of cattle and goats or fish in the river for their supper.   It is a very simple hard life yet they sustain themselves.

All along the road here we saw many churches and mission schools.    The children are being educated and they are enthusiastic about their education yet there is no prospect of doing anything with it after they get their M levels.

We visited a crocodile farm run by the previous manager of Msuna Fishing Resort.   He has leased a piece of land in the valley and is laying the foundation for a very profitable crocodile farm.   Apparently there is a great demand for crocodile skin products in America and Europe.   Handbags, shoes, belts, luggage, shoes, wallets.    You name it and they want it!

He has also introduced a wonderful water recycling system that will fully sustain his venture in years to come.   He draws water from the Zambezi at the moment but that water has to continually move to keep the crocs healthy so he takes the used water off into various ponds that have filtering plants and by the time the water goes through each pond it is ready for use again in the crocodile pens.    He has also planted an orchard and a vegetable garden which he waters with the filtered water.   He uses solar power to charge batteries for electricity in his home and is fully off the grid.   He lives alone as his wife is in Australia but he reckons he loves the life.   I am not sure I could live such a lonely life but hats off to him.   He is generating employment for the locals and income for himself eventually.

The life here is very colonial still.   All the houses have outside kitchens where men cooks are in charge.   The food is taken out at the beginning of the day and a menu drawn up. I am enjoying not having to do the housework and the cooking and am taking advantage of the time off to do my writing.

Africa is deep in my blood and although Ireland and Scotland and Wales are still on my bucket list I first want to explore my country.   I pray for Africa as it has seen so much destruction.   People have exploited her resources and plundered her minerals for their greed.   They have left empty mine shafts and crumbling old buildings and equipment in their wake.   Others are trying so hard to uplift the people and make it a better place for everybody to live.   There are schools and missions, clinics and hospitals.    If only they would work properly!!!

China has her eye firmly placed on Africa and there is evidence of them building roads in Botswana in a big way.    I only hope it is to the benefit of Africans!

God bless Africa, Guide her leaders, Guard her children and may Peace be with her eventually.  

Launch of my first Novel!!!

I have just published my debut novel on Kindle Books and am very proud of myself.   If I can you can too!  
After 7 years of hard work suffering writer's block and procrastination and interrupted by building a house, I have eventually realized my dream.

Please feel free to download a preview.   Go to

http://www.amazon.com/Twisted-Huguenot-Museum-Franschoek-Western-ebook/dp/B01E4HOSMA/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1460649965&sr=8-1&keywords=TWISTED+BLOOD+VINES

It is called TWISTED BLOOD VINES.

A STEP BACK IN TIME!

On our annual ‘trek’ to the Cape this year for husband to ride the Argus for the tenth time I decided that we would have to do a detour en route.   A step back in time for me!

I had been dreaming about the house and town I used to live in whilst a small child and had not visited in 50 years.   After my mother passed away I had found many photos of the town and civil society functions that both her and my father had participated in.   They are very important pieces of history and I felt compelled to deliver them into the hands of the people who would preserve them.   So a stopover in the city of WELKOM was planned.

At first my husband dismissed my request as ludicrous.   Who would want to visit such a backwater?   However he soon realized that I was serious and he capitulated and even entered into the fun of things mainly by teasing me a lot!

A bed and breakfast was found on the great Travelgound search engine and a very old friend of the family contacted to meet for dinner.   We set off from the heat of Maritzburg in March and arrived at midday in a very different heat zone.

In my mind’s eye Welkom was a dustbowl with very few large trees and shrubs and lots of wide roads and many circles.   I always remember the many dust storms we experienced when the ploughed mealie fields surrounding the town surrendered their top soil to the unrelenting wind and it swirled savagely through the centre.   I tried to explain to husband that he was not to worry about road names etc I would just lead him in the right direction as I expected the town to be exactly as I l had left it.   In fact I expected it to be a GHOST TOWN.  We had heard how mines were closing left, right and centre and how it was affecting small mining communities.

What a surprise we got!   The town had burgeoned to such an extent that the outlying ‘Koppie Alleen’, a small hill which was miles outside of the town and a real landmark, was now incorporated into the suburbs.   The streets were all still the same as the town planner had done an amazing job of laying out the town in the early 50’s and in no time at all I had guided husband to our old house.  

The house had been bought by an estate agent and was run as a business.   I went in to ask permission to take photographs and was welcomed with open arms.   They took us on a tour around the whole house and it was wonderful.   The house had been especially built for my parents by the company they had worked for in the 1950’s and a lot of the original features were still there.   The garden, originally designed by my mother had huge trees and many shrubs but what really caught my eye were the beautiful cannas and roses that bloomed everywhere.   They were my mother’s absolute delight.

From there I found my way to the school and the church my parents had been instrumental in starting and when I left were fledgling communities.   They were now green oases in the middle of the bustling city.   People from all walks of life sat on benches under the huge trees dotted all over the place.   Eating their lunches or just sitting contemplating.   We joined them and spent a wonderful few hours going down memory lane.   I was able to give the parish office photos of the church when it was just built and photos of the first service with the Bishop of the Free State of that time.   They were very excited to receive them as they had only recently started their archives.  

I also found the sports club my parents played bowls at and gave them the many photographs and speeches of which my mother had kept copious copies of. She had started the Northern Free State Bowling Association from there.  As a child I grew up on the banks of the bowling green and it was a huge endless world to me.   As an adult I looked at the area with different eyes but the memories it evoked were all happy loving ones.

The city of Welkom has become a thriving metropolis with malls and hotels, casinos and a huge Racing circuit for cars and motor cycles.   We were lucky to find a bed as the weekenders were arriving en masse for some big racing competition.

I have to say that we had a fun time exploring this backwater and would never have experienced this unusual city had I not been brought up there.   It was certainly a step back in time for me but an eye opener of how the new South Africa can work if we set our minds to it.

Road trip down memory lane!

Tomorrow we set off on a road trip down memory lane as we head to Cape Town for the Argus.
 
Our first stop will be Welkom where I grew up.   I have a lot of memorabilia belonging to my mother who started the Northern Freestate Bowling Association in the 1960's.   I intend giving it to Rover's Bowling Club where she was a founder member.

I am also meeting up with one of my brother's very old friends and we are going to dinner with him and his partner.
I cannot wait to see the old convent I started school at and the church where I had my first communion.   It is very vivid in my mind's eye.

From there we head to Beaufort West then the next morning we meet Hilda, my husband's sister, for breakfast in Laingsburg.   She farms close to the town.

What an exciting trip it will be!

The Butterfly

THE BUTTERFLY

It had been a hectic day for Tom and Jenny and as they made their way into the apartment the clock gonged the midnight hour.

‘Yipes we are late’ giggled Jenny, ‘I will never get to work on time tomorrow’.

‘Mm, I don’t know why they let these meetings go on so late especially as it is only Tuesday,’ coughed Tom.

‘Are you getting a cold?’

‘Not sure I think it is more like indigestion I have a pain in the middle of my chest’ Tom explained, ‘that’s why my speech was so bad this evening.   I just could not seem to get through my report.’ He started coughing again but this time had to run to the bathroom to throw up. 

  

‘I’ll get you some Eno’ said Jenny as she made her way to the kitchen yawning widely.

Suddenly there was a very loud snoring noise coming from the bedroom.   Jenny stopped in her tracks.   Surely Tom could not have fallen asleep so quickly, she turned abruptly and went to investigate.   As she went through the bedroom door she stopped and stared in horror.   Tom was arched backwards over the bed his eyes tightly closed, his face the colour of beetroot and his jaw locked.    The noise that emanated from him was like nothing Jenny had ever heard before.   Something was very wrong!

What happened next was a complete blur to Jenny but she must have called the ambulance, the doctor, her children and the priest because they all arrived within minutes and took over.

She had tried to administer CPR but battled.

Life as they had known it was shattered!   Tom died there in their double bed.   Jenny was numb.

The weeks after the funeral seemed to Jenny to happen on the periphery of her existence because she felt disconnected from reality!   She had gone back to work and she was there physically but mentally she was not.   It took all her strength to force herself to meet deadlines.   To sign the endless forms connected to winding up the estate.   To keep up with the many invitations of support from her friends and colleagues and her children were very worried.  

Not only had they lost their special father but their mother was slowly slipping away from them as well.

Everyone told her time would heal the hole in her heart.   Yet as time went on the hole just seemed to get bigger.

Circumstances made her sell the apartment and downsize.   Everyone said it would help her to de-clutter and start anew.   Yet that just seemed to open the wound and make her realize even more what she had lost.

It was at night that the loneliness pervaded her soul.   Jenny took to surfing the internet and kept up to date on her facebook.   She found solace in seeing the posts her children put on their pages and loved looking at the photos of her wonderful grandchildren.

Then one night as she was paging through the endless motivational stuff posted by her many friends she came across a poem.   It was like a jolt from the blue!   It read ‘Let me go!’

‘Miss me a little –but not for too long,

And not with your head bowed low.

Remember the love that we once shared

Miss me –but let me go.

For this is a journey that we all must take,

And each one must go alone

It’s all part of the master plan,

A step on the road to home.

When you are lonely and sick at heart

Go to the friends we know

And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds,

Miss me – but let me go.’

Author unknown

Jenny sat and read and re read the poem for hours.   Surely it was wrong.   Surely she should mourn her mate, her best friend, her lover.   Surely she should hold him close to her heart forever.  

Eventually it came to her in the early hours of the morning as she lay weeping into her pillow.   Tom had gone.   He was never coming back.   She would always have the memories they held so dear but she was alone now and needed to live her life.   Living in the past was not doing her any good.   Her heart was broken but she was still alive and she had to meet the mornings without him.   She fell into a deep sleep and slept fitfully for the first time since Tom’s death.

The following morning when she awoke she looked at Tom’s pillow on his side of the bed as she usually did and suddenly she sat bolt upright.   Hovering above the pillow was a beautiful butterfly.   As she stared at it a feeling inside her made her feel at peace.   She felt it was a sign from Tom to say that she had made the right decision or was it just a coincidence?

BIBLE STUDY TODAY

Today at Bible Study we watched the film called 'Son of God'.   It was a fascinating reminder of the story of Jesus.   From a small mustard seed a large tree will grow.   From one man's sacrifice we all learnt about life after death and the way to prepare ourselves for it.   From a small band of followers the Word spread until today when people are still being killed for their beliefs.
What are we doing to follow Christ this lent?