As I devoted my nights to burning the candle at both ends in the early 80s ahead of the General Certificate of Education, GCE, I was wont to reade Peter Abraham’s book, “Mine Boy”, which was one of the recommended literature text for the examinations. Published in 1946, Peter Abraham’s “Mine Boyhttp://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=afrbooclu-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0435905627” was one of the first books that hinted me on what life as a black person meant in South African society during the days of Apartheid. Paradoxically, contemporary South Africans are seemingly transferring the aggression of what their forebears suffered in the days of apartheid to nationals of other African countries who unarguably stood behind them in the days of trial. After all, the difference between apartheid and xenophobia lies in nomenclature.
I must confess that I was so engrossed with the book as a result of its main character, Xuma, who was a man in transition. He leaves his home in the north in search of job in the big city of Johannesburg at the gold mines. He ends up in Malay camp; a suburb for blacks. There, he meets Leah, a tough but kind woman, who gives him a place to stay. Though everyone in Leah’s house does not like the idea of Xuma working in the mines, he is determined to work there, despite the harsh conditions that blacks are forced to work under.
Xuma is naïve about the city and its ways. On his first walk around the city, he is shocked to see his fellow blacks take off from whites when they have not done any harm. Rather than run, he stands his ground. When a policeman attacks him, he strikes back. For being pig-headed, is friends call him a fool because of his naivety.
Leah is a tough and strong willed woman, unapologetic about her way of life. She brews alcohol, something illegal for blacks but not for whites. When other women bootleggers in her camp are arrested, Xuma feels bad because Leah did not warn them. To which Leah says, “Life is so in the city.”
In as much as the book is not under review in this context, permit me to admit the fact that it ignited the fire of wanderlust for South Africa in me until the ignoble of xenophobic cases became a cause for concern.
Also, among the other people that live in Leah’s household are Johannes and Daddy, both of whom find their solace in taking liquor.
In fact, If there is any country in African continent that has for years vicariously subjected me to bouts of wanderlust, it is undeniably South Africa. The reason for the wanderlust cannot be far-fetched as the country has remained a destination to be. Many visitors to the country have at different times and through various medium captured their diverse experiences with inspirational travelogues. No doubt, from the perspectives of the travelogues written by different authors that this writer has for umpteenth times read, there is no denying the fact that South Africa is a destination to be.
Without any iota of exaggeration, Mine Boy, as a literature book gave me an exhilarating insight into the country that earned the coinage of “Rainbow Nation” from one of its internationally respected leaders, Archbishop Desmond Tutu. For those who are yet to read the book, “Mine Boy” is a book that exposed the apartheid condition which the black South Africans passed through under the white regime. The must-read literature book presents a portrait of labour discrimination, appalling housing conditions and ignoble level of racial discrimination.
Added to the impetus of wanderlust I derived from the book was the late Evangelist Sunny Okosun, who for the most part of his life, used the medium of music to spread the campaign and struggle for independence and majority rule in the then apartheid South Africa. His albums which are still regarded as evergreen were the rave of the moment. One of his major hits that somewhat rekindle the fire of what one may in this context refer to “South Africanism” in me was “Papa’s Land. My obsession for South Africa was so high that if I was offered the opportunity of relocating to the United Kingdom, United States of America and South Africa that I would to the consternation of my friends and close relatives opt for South Africa.
As a catalyst to my unequalled love for the mining country, the exemplary leadership style of the late sage, Dr. Nelson Mandela was irresistible that I was in December 2014 inspired to write a panegyric piece titled “Mandelaism” A template for African Leaders”, which was published on an online medium News24nigeria. Since the great leader passed on to great beyond, I have been nurturing the plan of visiting South Africa; if not for any reason, at least, to have a look at the building that accommodated the late sage who was not created solely for the South Africans but for the world.
Apart from aspiring to just have a glimpse of where Dr. Nelson Mandela’s lived in his unarguably fulfilled earthly journey, I also nurture the dream of visiting destinations like Sun City Resort, Hluhwe-Umfolozi Game Reserve, Blyde River Canyon, Kruger National Park, Cape Wineland, Table Mountain and what have you. Not only that, I would have made sure I visit Soweto which Late Evangelist Sonny Okosun sang about in one of his hits.
However, at the moment in the face of the recurring xenophobic trajectory which some South Africans have taken, it may be difficult for me to relocate to South Africa or even as a Journalist honour an invitation to cover an event or attend a short course. You may have wondered that my decision is rash. Yes, you may be right. But the decision was taken as result of a nightmare I had on South Africa.
I had the nightmare precisely on Tuesday, February 21, 2017. In my thinking, the killings of Nigerians and nationals of other African countries that I pondered over the previous day may have triggered the nightmare. In fact the last story I read in the newspaper bothered on the killings of other Africans in South Africa, and the newspaper eventually got bedraggled as a result of my sweat. While going through the features which was indeed pathetic, I slept off and went into a deep sleep that left me with a vivid and frightening detailed images. It is expedient to mention in this context that even as I commenced writing this piece this next day that I was in a state of panic and fear.
I dreamt that I was in South Africa, and immediately I alighted at the airport I was almost lynched by hoodlums who chased me with clubs and cutlasses on account of my nationality, Nigerian.
At this juncture it is not unexpected from the reader to ask, “what is the essence of this piece?” The essence is that South Africans should fear God, and keep his commandments by respecting their Nationals of other African countries in South Africa. They should not forget so soon how they were helped to become free from Apartheid. They should not turn South Africa to a nightmare.
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Isaac Asabor, a Journalist, writes from Lagos
