Facing black reality

How white people are able no disengage because of our privilege

This morning, after a beautiful early walk with my dog and friend on the promenade, I needed to stop and get petrol. In the previous sentence I reveal so much of my privilege and what I take for granted. I have a car. I have time before going to rehearsals. I get everywhere easily and quickly because I live in the absolutely central suburb of Woodstock.

I stopped at a garage on the edge of Seapoint and got chatting to a yawning petrol pump attendant (literally one of the weird jobs created to employ a huge number of black people in SA). He was coming to the end of his 12 hour shift - 7pm to 7am. He was probably my age or slightly younger. He lives in Khayelitsha. We got talking about how many taxis he takes to get home, 2, and what it costs. It is R57 one way. This man spends R114 a day, six days a week to get to and from work. He has worked at this petrol station for 20 years.

He spends more on terrible ‘public transport’ than I do on petrol each week. Just think about that. He should be living close to work, but affordable housing will never happen in Seapoint, because people living there don’t want the proximity of people working there. They ‘love’ them, but don’t want them as neighbours.

Tafelberg will never really house people who work in Seapoint because the ratepayers and residents and developers won’t let it happen.

So instead, this man will spend 60% of his earnings on transport. To and from an apartheid created township to keep poor black people poor.

Please, white South Africans, just think about it for five minutes of your terribly important and busy day. And then tell Agriforum and Afriforum where and how high to jump.