I was 18. Voting for the first time, just like millions of my countrymen and women.
We were in the tiny seaside town where I grew up. In 1994 there were no designated voting stations. We pitched up with our green bar-coded ID book and voted. All of us.
It was heady, surreal and we knew it was HUGE - even without twitter, facebook, 24h TV, text messages or the internet, we could feel the vibe. Could feel the world's eyes, the enormous exhale, the teeth on edge, the fingertip tingling belly cramping slightly nauseous inducing excitement and apprehension: what next?
For us, what was next was to go down to the beach, huddle out of the rain in the deserted life-savers' shack, play cards, drink quarts of beer, smoke cigarettes, play djembe drums, and try and imagine how this would change the course of our lives.
On that grey and rainbow-hued day, I think this was kind of what I had in mind.
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| Frieda and her bestie - June 2013. |
This country is so radically complex, but basically: humanity wins. Amandla.
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