By this stage of the morning, I am starting to accept that circumstance won’t allow for me to be a marcher today.
Very very sadly. My personal and work life have gotten in the way of my rallying self. My toes and red takkis are itching just knowing that there are others gathering in this province with placards, passion and pleas to the ol’ non-existant Pres and government.
Those people who we elected to care for our lives. Those PUBLIC servants.
I hope many blog surfers do manage to show their face at the MILLION MAN MARCH AGAINST CRIME.
Or is that “convergence” rather? I read on the site this morning that there actually won’t be much walking. It would’ve just been too much of a logistical nightmare. Hmmm. Isn’t that the point of a march?
Anyone who does read this, and makes it there, shake a fist for me, shout the same slogan over and over again a coupla times for me. Ok?
Fkc. This is frustrating. Cause I really wanted to show face/ numbers at this march. Cause I think it is something we need to show national support against. We are telling the president and the internationals we have had enough (I’d like to say we are telling the criminals, but I don’t think words or displays of law-abiding strength really hits home with them).
That we are not a society that accepts such a shite scared way of living. That we are disgusted by our fellow countrymen being shot down at a city’s train station for some petty possessions. Or girls having their sex raped out of them. Bankers, builders, lawyers, street cleaners, journos, aid workers, nature conservationists, informal traders, professors, historians, customs workers, and tax collectors, the unemployed, the pregnant, the underage, the retired living in leafy well-off suburbs… whatever your title, you deserve protection from other’s greed and humanless actions and perspectives.
A professor deserves to walk home from UCT without being murdered on the street. A man deserves to live in rural KZN without being slaughtered. A girl deserves to walk back to her car after a hard night’s waitressing without ending up in Soweto being raped by two men telling her they’ve always wanted a white woman. A driver deserves to drive back from Polokwane without being pulled over by policemen and being told there are two ways to sort out the apparent committed crime. You deserve to draw money on a sunny weekend day without having a gun put to your head. A girl deserves to get ready for school without being shot dead.
I deserve to visit my best friend in Jo’burg CBD without my Mom and my boyfriend basically demanding I take in an armed escourt. To leave a case of CDs in my desk drawer and not have them stolen by someone fixing lights in my room. To not hear gun shots at 1pm on a Sunday afternoon in my own leafy suburb, then to hear a day later that neighbours are in intensive care for a botched hijacking. Not to get into a moral debate with friends about a young black thief being shot dead by a white man protecting his property….and the cops turning a blind eye to the entire incident. I deserved to walk two metres up the road to buy take aways without that fear in me. Or my flatmate to come home, park her car, and get inside her rented abode without being burgled between the parking and the elevator. And when we phone the police, for them to not argue with us over whether we should go to them or they should come to us.
Us South Africans deserve to not believe that any of this is either a past reality or a future possibility.
My maid said Thabo would be there at the march. I said I thought he was in Cape Town.
She said, “No, but he has to be there. They are there to meet him.”.
“When is Mbeki ever where he has to be!?”
I wonder if Opportunist Zuma will at least show face. After all, isn’t this all about the political votes – and who’s gonna vote for you when they are all dead or too scared to leave their houses.
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