I am from…

1975. Fish Hoek. “Slegs blankes; whites only!“ Rinse and repeat for the next 15 ½ years.

I am from student protests, strike action, detention without trial, military invasions, black consciousness. I am from the deaths of Steve Biko and Soloman Mahlangu 

I am from Albion. Ireland, Scotland and the low countries. Baked in the soil of Africa. 

I am from the 1980’s Scripture Union where for a few weeks a year I could share a dorm room or a table with people who legally could not live next door to me. 

I am from the abundance of Christmas dinners, roast chicken, lamb, beef, potatoes, and trifle. I am from that thirteenth cheque redeeming another year of (white) working class struggle.

I am from discovering a new other world of magical culinary delights – breyani, mutton curry, salomies, gatsbys and daltjies.

I am from the white working-class anthems of “do you think money grows on trees” and “I don’t cook for fun.” Yet still insulated from real poverty by a system of white economic empowerment. 

I am from “buurman se huis is uit”, “last goal wins” and “be home before dark”.

I am from the unshaking, healing love of a mother. I am from the anger, verbal abuse and alcoholism of a father. 

I am from “just teach the Bible”- or our interpretation of it at least. “Don’t get involved in politics”, “racism is a heart issue” and “we never knew”

I am from hip-hop, gospel and jazz. Public Enemy, Miles Davis and Lauryn Hill. 

I am from “Farewell to Innocence”; “Justice takes sides”, “Transforming Mission” and “I Write What I Like.” 

I am from the great cloud of witnesses living and dead that have trusted me with their stories, their pain, their hope; knowing I could do little other than listen and hold those stories gently.   

I am from “We shall all be free someday. Oh, deep in my heart, I do believe, we shall overcome someday”

I am from a place of pain, of struggle, gentrification, terraced housing, and the sound of the adhan, from gaatjies yelling, from “ten rand a bag” and labarang, from Salt River Blackpool, and Community House, from illegal dumping, apathy and neglect. 

I am from Sunday koesisters, free Palestine, and warm welcomes, from Cissie Gool House and Mr Parkers Store, from forced removals, religious tolerance and the heart of the collapsed textile industry.

I am from “go and make disciples” –the priority of proclamation; after all more Christians equal a more just society. Like 87% of apartheid South Africa, you mean?

I am also from “he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor… proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.” The new, greater and never-ending Jubilee, broken into history.

I am from a city that redrew its boundaries to steal, exclude and oppress. I am from apartheid spatial planning and forced removals. I am from District Six, Hanover Park and Lavender Hill. I am from Langa and Nyanga, the sun and the moon. “Our Pride” and “Our New Home.”

I am from the dream of a city that will once again redraw its boundaries, to “rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devasted” (Isaiah 61:4). A city built on justice, healing, hope and flourishing for all. 

I am from Umntu Ngumuntu Ngabantu