Comment on Public Works ‘misspent R3.65bn’ by Sizani Ventshu

It looks as if we living in different time zones you have time when I don’t have. That in itself is no obstacle for us to communicate. I’m left with 11 days then I’ll be 58yrs old. I was born in the Free State, by a mXhosa father and a Motswana mother. That alone will tell you that I knew at a very early age that there is more than only me in this world.

The basic form of apartheid ( tribalism and ethnicity) were purged from my head at very tender age. I knew very early ” ukuba umntu ngumntu ngabantu” In 1976 I was taken in for questioning for an essay I wrote about the Industrial Development in South Africa. My sin I didn’t mention the contribution of the Afrikaner in it. I simply talked about the availability of the resources, the imported skill from abroad and the cheap labour that was easily available.

I said I couldn’t mention them because there is nothing to mention in that regard. I was branded a commy, by then I didn’t know what a communist is. The only thing I knew I did and shouldn’t was reading ”Cry the Beloved Country” a banned book.

I had a bridge year and in 1978 was supposed to go varsity, my application didn’t go through and nobody could tell why. A friend of mine got a clerical job for me at a technical school to accumulate some funds. It is hear that the people we then called the Special Branch approached to work for them underground. I refused, they told me I could apply until I was blue, I’ll never be allowed in their varsities. Some time later they again came this time to tell me I must resign as I couldn’t to work in their employment if I’m not willing to do their bidding.

Needless to say by then I hated the Afrikaner with a passion. In fact I used to say, if I were to die and go to heaven and were to bump into an Afrikaner, I’d ask God to transfer me to hell. I’ve since learnt not all Afrikaners were like that. In my line of duty, I’m an estate agent by the way, I work with a lot of Conveyancers and guess what I speak the Afrikaans that I refused to hear anything about in 1976. Only this time I’m compelled to.

The young man who sworn rather to go to hell than be a neighbour to an Afrikaner in Heaven, his Pastor is an typical opregte Afrikaner. I want to demostrate what a pa

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