Yesterday, after dropping Marnie off in Little Somalia (Mayfair), I had the pleasure of spending four hours in a car dealership, waiting for our sad little purple Corsa to be serviced. The wait allowed me plenty of time to get some reading done, as well as to speak with the owner, Jim.
You may recall Jim as the racist yet otherwise decent fella who sold us our car. He hails originally from northwestern England, is attempting to write a historical fiction novel set during the Industrial Revolution, and has to buy Mother’s Day cards a year in advance (it falls earlier in England). Usually, when he begins a sentence with, "Our black brothers and sisters", you can bet what follows will be unpleasant, though he did empathize with O.B.B.S. not being able to afford World Cup tickets. Jim told me a story which best summarizes how he came to his particular worldview:
One early morning, a black woman calls saying that her vehicle won't start, having purchased it five months prior. Jim explains that the mechanics aren't due in for another half hour, but that one would be sent soon. Shortly after seven, the mechanics drive to the woman’s house a few blocks away. Five minutes later, she arrives at the dealership, saying she's a nurse at the hospital, is late for work and can't wait any more. Jim calls the mechanics back to the dealership, telling them to drive the nurse to work and to repair her vehicle afterwards. The nurse is asked for her car keys.
She doesn't have them, she says, because she lost them six weeks ago. That is why the car won't start. When Jim points out that this is not his responsibility, she says she is tired of not being able to drive her car, and threatens to call the police if he doesn't amend the situation. He tells her she can find her own way to work, and she walks away, trailing a volley of obscenities in her wake. Minutes later, the police arrive.
This type of thing, Jim tells me, is not unusual. People will call him after they’ve been in an accident, or when they’ve blown a flat and can’t find the jack, expecting him to take care of the situation. South Africans, Jim says, but in particular O.B.B.S., have serious entitlement issues.
The problem is, I can't disagree. While racism is an ugly, repugnant thing, I understand why whites here are so jaded. The view amongst many poor blacks (and their representatives in government like Julius Malema) is that whites became wealthy through black exploitation, and that they are entitled to that wealth, either through violence or through government nationalization of white enterprise. Blacks have been afforded more power and responsibility in government and commerce, without having the necessary education or experience, to disastrous effect.
While you’ll rarely hear someone outright say they supported apartheid, plenty of whites wistfully remember the days when people left their doors open, and walked the streets at night with impunity. As the stories of robbery, rape and murder mount, and more and more whites flee this country, taking their valuable capital, education and business with them.
Given that whites aren’t likely to give away all their money and land, blacks aren’t likely to accept living in appalling poverty, and the government is interested only in perpetuating itself, the situation doesn’t look to be resolved any time soon.
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