By Robyn Vogels
I think I speak on behalf of South Africans across the globe when I say we feel somewhat useless. We feel slightly alienated from the visions we see pouring out of our homeland. I, for one, had an immense sense of guilt getting into my warm, safe bed last night and I am sure like others around the globe, checked my phone regularly.
Our brothers have both figuratively and literally taken up arms to protect businesses, families and the livelihoods of their neighbours. For this, we are proud.
Have we been more scared? People are comparing this to the 1980s. I don’t remember, as a sixteen-year-old then, ever being this afraid for the country. We still had structure, healthcare and education. I don’t ever recall my uncles and parents having to unite on the pavement against an enemy outside of my school playground.
For me, the only similarity to the 1980s is perhaps that feeling of camaraderie. Those who grew up in the 1980s pulled together after a bombing at the rugby, or when a shopping mall was blown up. The spirit of Mandela was to bring camaraderie and peace to everyone. We had a country that was brought together with the potential to flourish, to be that rainbow with a pot of gold.
For those of us around the globe, there is a sort of numbness. The contrast of watching WhatsApp videos of violence sent on group chats overnight, versus the serenity of a father pushing his daughter on a swing in the park this morning when I drove to work. How can there be such contrasts in the world? How can I drive past workers planting trees this morning, when back home people are burning down their factories, their own livelihood?
If we are being honest, there is a sense of relief that we are not there. I say this with regret on one level, but with love on another. Regret that we are not directly feeling that sense of camaraderie that those protecting street corners are feeling. Love that my husband did not have to go to the safe and take out his gun and head into the street, come what may. Guilt? Guilt has many angles. The guilt I feel for getting into a warm bed last night, is different to the guilt some feel for leaving the country. There should not be guilt. We took a stand. A stand to leave quietly, and for that there should be no guilt.
We may have left South Africa, but it never leaves us. Our roots, our forefathers, our history. It is in the very being of our makeup. We share this common ground with everyone there, nothing can change that, not even to ignore it. Let us not feel useless, guilty, or sad. Take comfort that we all applaud their stance, we spiritually stand beside them.
None of us is alone in this world.
