Monday, 18 November 2013

Surf, Sex, Violence 85 - 86 (8)

I guess it was then the seeds were sewn, real deep in the back of my brain. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine one day leaving Durban and my family for good, but in the end I did.

It was then I realised things were not right, what I was seeing every day was not right, something was very wrong. I had never really thought about things before, I had never even had the chance to see the truth. The press was controlled, the propaganda machine was well oiled and worked just fine. I had only ever been outside South Africa once when I was 12, no ways could I have had a realistic view on politics then. I believed what I saw, I believed what I read and heard.

What I deciphered and saw at night on duty was not what I saw in the press. I was then I realised things were not right.
Everyone just got on with things like nothing was going on, a few bombs here and there a few bits and pieces in the newspapers about unrest in the townships, but nothing too serious. What worried everyone was the fact we could not play rugby or cricket against anyone.


I just pushed it all to one side and concentrated on surfing well again, my brace helped, it made it possible. Slowly but surely it came back. I started to compete again, slowly at first but soon surfing became my distraction from the reality of seeing the country slowly spiralling into chaos.


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