Have you ever heard a joke so many times that it stops being funny?
That’s how I feel about South Africa, I’m afraid to talk about it now,
What can I say that hasn’t been said already?
I don’t mean South Africa is a joke that I’ve heard so much, but it’s strange to be in a situation where you are basically repeating yourself regarding the same basic issues: poverty, disease, death and most importantly, justice. That’s what it comes down to in my meagre opinion, Justice, who’s fault is it that it’s them, and not me, or you?
I can’t point any specific fingers anymore, the government? Yeah, of course, but it’s not today’s government, this is inherent of decades of a form of social brainwashing, and I’m not sure if it’s forced anymore, it does seem to be slightly inherited.
A sort of ‘I am therefore I, well, I’m in this situation and that’s it’
Very hard to describe, I’m poor therefore I’m poor, is that good enough? No obviously it isn’t, yet is there a point me writing every single blog about the hardship I see? Probably not. Yet here we are, Why?
It’s strange, but when you hear a joke enough times it stops being funny, My Dad is a fantastic storyteller, never tell him I said this, he’s allergic to technology so he will most likely never read this, but he is, he can tell a great story, stories about his friends, who are mostly mad so it does aid the story telling ability when the characters are, well lets just say, interesting. But Dad can tell a story I’ve heard a dozen times before and I’ll still laugh, so no, sometimes the punch line can revert to humour, in the same way that sadness and the need to highlight this lack of justice can be reawakened.
I have a Godson, Dylan, he’s damn class, Ok, I realise that I’m biased, but in fairness he is, he’s a little dude and I am crazy about him, very smart child with bright eyes and a lovely smile, just a joy, except that he’s got more energy then a Duracell factory in a lightening field. But I think he is the business, the bee knee’s, the cats pyjamas and the dogs, eh, curtains.
He’s just 10 months now and his room over Christmas reminded me very much of the late late toy show (With Gay obviously) now I won’t say I didn’t donate to that situation myself but what can you do, if you can’t spoil your Godson then something something.
10 months of age, with two parents who love him, grandparents (He’s the first on both sides so he’s spoilt atm) His Aunties and Godparents adore him, he’s a pretty happy kid, and you know, he’s a pretty lucky kid, or is it that all the kids in South Africa living in rags, in small smelly dank cells are unlucky?
Is it lucky to have parents alive and healthy, qualified in their professions, with a comfortable 2 or 3 bedroom house, grandparents and aunts and uncles all about him, tv’s and books and bedclothes and bath stuff and all that other crazy stuff that he loves, and the forward planning, good schools and good advice from parents and others who have been, external tutoring and grinds, giving him idols to aim for, showing him the world that is so very accessible to him, where he can be happy, hopefully, do well in school , get onto college and do what he wants, get involved in sports, maybe Karate like myself and his Dad, or Public speaking like his Mum and, (Cough, me) or a very average soccer player like his Godfather then move onto to qualifying and getting a lowish level position in his profession where over time he’ll do well and grow, meet someone if he hasn’t already and settle with them.
That’s what we’re used to with children, we take it as the norm that the parents, the extended family, the friends and all other stakeholders will do their utmost to encourage the child to get on to it’s very best in this life. It’s part of our psyche to want the best for any children that we are in someway related to, to be honest I think any children we come into contact with, we want the best for, why wouldn’t we?
But what if we didn’t have that choice? In South Africa for millions of families, wanting their kids to get a decent education and get a qualified job is the same as Dylans parents deciding that they want him to become the next King of Wales, really not going to happen, and that’s what these people carry around with them every day of their lives. It’s like you’ve heard of the ‘American dream’ where any American has the potential to “Be all that you can be”, They should coin the phrase ‘South African nightmare’, cos that’s it, even Mandela was given a hand up as a young boy to a level of education and status in society, but normally that is not the case, somewhere in Kokstad there is a little boy born on the same day as Dylan who, if he’s lucky is still alive and doesn’t have HIV or TB, that’s if he’s lucky, but obviously it’s all relative and he’s not, not at all.
Have you ever heard a joke so much that it stops being funny?
I don’t care,
The kids that will never read this because the internet will never be something they could even imagine, Dylan will, but I suppose that answers my issue for me. It’s not their fault, it’s not Dylans fault, it’s not my fault, it’s not your fault, Yet I do believe that someone has to take some responsibility for something,
What Respond!/Sivile! do in South Africa with TLC and Yondlabantu is very important, if you can give time, money, clothes or anything else please do.
Kevin.Conway@Respond.ie
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