Afrikaner Heritage

I think  that my father’s emotional bond with his job as policeman changed him as person – made me unconsciously cautious to change and to a profession that could drain  or affect me emotionally and mentally. This even though I admire both my father and mother’s work they did for people and the community. My mother was a nurse before she switched to admin, working with medical aid, to have better hours to spend time with us and raise us.

A few of my extended family worked for the government and some still do. Two of my uncles are still in the police force and one uncle followed in my grandfather’s footsteps by working for Transnet.

My grandfather was a short man but was looked up to by all children. He and my grandfather raised my mother and her brothers and sisters in a household with strict rules and morals based on Christianity. But they were also raised in the Apartheids-years which sadly rubbed off on especially his sons. Unfortunately the first image of my grandfather that comes to my mind when I think of back to the school holidays that we spent at their home in Graafwater, were of him watching the 7 o’clock Afrikaans news and swearing at any person of colour appearing on the screen. I could never understand the relation between Christian values and racism. But also just thinking about it – it being a recurrent topic in my thoughts and everyday life experiences – I found it being one of the most sick mind sets one could possibly have. I believe white people were brainwashed to think they was better than people of colour. And I in fact feel a sense of pity for those infected by this way of thought.

Even though I loved my grandfather I hated that side of him. I never want to be like him. This probably sounds harsh and my mother would probably be pretty upset with me when she found out that I shared this with everyone (just because she loved him so much and want to remember him in dignity) but I have to be true to myself. This is a part of where I came from but is not where I want to go…

I would rather treasure the positive aspects in my culture and share them with my children one day.

My mother and her brothers and sisters did “volksdanse”. This was a Afrikaner tradition where the young people participating was called ‘niggies’ and ‘nefies’. Traditional dances were danced to songs like Siembamba and Japie my Skapie. This tradition took place where friends and families came together, like at picnics and other festivities. “Volkspele” was a movement that was established to spread the custom of the Afrikaners. Traditional outfits were worn by the youngsters which derived from the Voortrekker costume – “niggies” wore dresses with fitted waist, full skirts and volumous sleeves and was pared with headpieces called, “kappies”, drawstring small handbags and handkerchief neckpieces; the “nefies” wore waistcoats decoratively embroided with South African flowers.

I can vaguely remember being teached a few of these traditional dances in primary school. Her’s a few pictures of my mother in her teens enjoying the tradition: