As I always like to experience a series of resurgances in whatever online community I am in were I post alot of stuff and contribute then disappear into the mist I have decided to grace you all with my general life story relating to Aparthied and my experiences before and after , from the Union of South Africa to the Republic of South Africa.

First let me say I am a Boer, or Afrikaaner as we prefer to be called. My family was one of the many Dutch and German families that started immigrating to the Cape starting at about 1652.

My mother's side is Afrikaans and her mother is also a Boer while her dad was born in Germany.

My father's side is pretty much the same. His mother is an Afrikaaner and his father is an American.

This means Im pretty much 1/2 Boer, 1/4 German, and 1/4 American, basically, but I still consider myself 100% Vollterusim

Now let me stop boring you with my genealogy and start the story.

Part 1 : The beggining

I was born January 29th 1989 in Durban, South Africa, Kwazulu-Natal Province.

I do not remember much about my early years as a child. I remember playing with my father before he left with 16,000 Randz right out of my mother's pocket. I remember my sister before she became addicted to heroin and other drugs. I also remember my mother in a constant state of panic and stress.

Obviously at the time I had no idea what this was, I was obviously care-free. Then I noticed my little friends, who were all equally as sheltered Boers like myself, just started leaving.

Then I had an event that changed my life.

I do not remember the exact day except that it was summer, and that I was practicing my English because mother had told me to do so. My mother then burst in the room looking like she was about to cry.

She told me to put on the black and grey stripped dress shirt and come outside. Most of the neighboorhood was out there and I knew something was about to happen. Then I saw 3 men in military fuituges wearing red berets and had rifles slung over there back, and they had what looked like a curtain rod. They were wearing sunglasses and smoking in a corner, indifferent to what we were doing. They would occasionly yell at us to shut up in a raspy accent of English or occasionally start to cuss in Xhosa or Sethoso.

Then someone went over the flagpole in the park and instructed us to all follow. My mother later told me it was my father who actually started this. We all assembled next to the fire-pits and near the pool area to look at the Flag, this was to be the last time we saw this flag flying high or saluting it.



My father then instructed us to begin singing. We did. We sang "Die Stem van Suid Afrika" and then looked at the flag in silence for about 30 seconds. The 3 men in military fituiges then came over with what I thought first to be curtain rods and unrolled it. It had the modern flag of South Africa inside. We watched the flag we had just sang to be taken down, one of the men then used his cigarette to light fire to the flag and laughed as they dragged it back to their jeep.

In its place the modern flag of South Africa was flying high.

Die Stem van Suid Afrika :