What you are moving where?!

6 Tulip street, it's changed a bit but what hasn't changed is the water flowing in front if it.

This may be the 7th iteration of this post, I started writing a week or so after the previous one, anyway here goes... This past week marked our 39 year anniversary in SA. If you missed the first one in the series, you can find it here https://unscrypted.blogspot.com/2022/08/the-beginning.html

We were in Swaziland for about 5 months or so when pops received an offer to go and lecture economics at the then University of Transkei, fondly referred to as Unitra now Walter Sisulu University. We hadn't dropped anchor in eSwatini so the move was whatever for us. All I remember from eSwatini is the national anthem, an Alsatian attacking Kwaku, learning how to ride a bike and climbing a tree and the branch breaking and leaving a scar at the back of one of my thighs. I was 7 years old when we left. For the folks though this was a pretty wild decision. Imagine uprooting your young family to South Africa in the early 80's, a country where it was law that the darker you were the less human you were. A system of oppression, that was made law and effectively dehumanised the majority of the people who lived on that land for decades! Yes that was the land that we were moving to. Shows how crazy life must have been back home in Ghana if that was a viable option for the family right? We were fortunate though because we were moving to one of the homelands (short but clear article about homelands -> https://www.sahistory.org.za/article/homelands). 10 of these homelands were created for different ethnic dark South Africans. They were almost a country within a country. They were set up to make sure that South Africa was largely in the hands of the lighter minority. We moved to Umtata (now mThatha), the then capital of the homeland called Transkei, one of the homelands designated for Xhosas.

One of the consequences of the set up of these homelands is that there weren't enough doctors and teachers to cater for the communities in the homelands so our parents who were either teachers or doctors were 'imported' to assist. If you meet any Ghanaian or Ugandan, who came to South Africa in the late 70s, 80s or early 90s chances are that either they or their parents were doctors or teachers.

As a child you are so oblivious to what Bernie Mac would term, the 'goings ons'. 

We left on Royal Swazi Air, landed in Umtata circa 24/01/1984. Someone picked us up and took us to what would be our home for a few months, the Holiday Inn. That place was so cool. Nana, the youngest, was 2 years old, super adorable with a big mop of curly hair so he was an immediate hit with the staff at hotel and the rest of us were treated kindly too. We were put up in inter-leading rooms, the folks and Nana in one and Adoma, Kwaku and I in another. Nana Sarpong, our eldest sister would only join us a few months later, she was still in Ghana. Hotel life was cool but also restrictive. Fun for me as I recall, was running up and down the corridors and watching the big silver ice machine make ice. We had to be careful going outside of the hotel building because there was a big swimming pool and yep we were the sterotype...no swimming skills. 

Not too long after we arrived, we were accepted to possibly one of the best schools in the Eastern Cape if not South Africa at the time and I will write about my personal experience in another post. But I remember my first day of school, we had to pitch up at the headmaster's office. A rather large unit he was, Mr Webber, and so intimidating. I was held back a year because we had to do Afrikaans. I was still young for my class anyway so no worries. I, together with Eleanor Zake were taken to our class. At the time it really wasn't a thing that I noticed but later in life, looking back at the class photos,  I realised that I was the only black boy in my class in standard one. There were 2 black girls, Sharai and Eleanor. It so happens that Umtata High School (even the junior school was Umtata High) was a Cape Education curriculum school set up for the kids of white people who happened to live in the Transkei or surrounds. Special reprieve from our darkness was granted to some children of black expats and other dark folk whose parents were in the Transkei government or were somehow well connected. The insanity, I mean pops' boss' kids, weren't allowed to attend the school. We didn't have a car then so a good family friend, Mr Cudjoe, rest his soul, would cart us around. The school was the business I tell ya and I think at the time the oldest kid paid R10 a term and the others R5 each or something like that.

It was during this time that the Saturday library and shopping ritual would begin. It was on one of those trips to the library that pops saw an ad for a teacher at another good school, Vela Primary. Ma recently told me that the interview was more like a fat chat amongst mates and she was hired on the spot. Life in mThatha...South Africa, was supposed to be a 'let's go and try for a year or 2 and see' situation but man, it turned out to be just ok. A few of the folks' friends from eSwatini and Ghana had moved to other parts of the Transkei. It was around March or April 1984 when our house was ready for us to move into....6 Tulip Street, Fortgale. A styling, yet modest home in a bougie suburb. We had the folks room, the 'girls' room, the 'boys' room and what we unanimously dubbed the cold room, (that room was insanely cold) it must have been because it was on the side of the house that got no light, a double garage with a store room above it and a servants quarters behind it. There was the oddest driveway leading to the garages, grass on the one side that lead to a rathe large fig tree and quite a severe drop on the other side with no protection. We had a pretty decent yard at the back where the kitchen was and another in the front. Some might say oh wow amazing, I say errr not so much! Cos as i grew older, it was one of my duties to mow the damn lawn....sheeeeeee!!! but it was pretty good though cos you had a place to play soccer, badmington, a wall to practice tennis. The front door had a stair case that lead to a red porch which had to be polished every week, yeah you know the one cos you must have had one too. When I started writing this post I realised another thing, all of our neighbours on our street, for most of the time living in Fortgale were of a lighter shade...Madness, this was South Africa, forget that, this was a homeland, set up just for xhosa folk. Another one of those reprieves from our darkness, granted by our masters :). Come to think of it one of our neighbours had jumped over his wall into our yard, to this day i'm not sure what the reason was, but the older gent couldn't get back over so i offered my back as a step ladder, i'm sure that is why my back is so poked now, cos that bra was HEAVY!!! 😂

It was such a good life, The Daily Dispatch newspaper, fresh milk and bread delivered to your driveway. daily. When I compare our earlier years in SA to now, one thing that really stands out for me is that our house had a fence, a flimsy wire mesh type fence, yeah you know the one. The one that was really put up to let dogs feel as if they are in captivity, didn’t always work particularly well, those mutts either found a way under or vaulted over, but it showed the nature of the mindsets during that time. Theft and senseless violence amongst the community wasn’t the order of the day.

I'm not sure how 'settling in' was for the folks, because I think I am almost a decade older than they were when they moved to the the Transkei. I am one man but finding my way in a foreign land where no one is out to get me for being black, still takes some getting used to. I can't imagine what it was like for them, with a young family, in a land where the law of the land says you are less than, and a foreign black. 

Enter the community, over the years the legion of expats or MaGhanas, as we were referred to, started to grow. The best part of my childhood outside of school,  was when we used to go to Ghanaian gatherings. They were fun because as kids we may get a cash injection from a generous aunt or uncle, get asked to clean a car for remuneration or just run around aimlessly with other kids wearing the All Ghana jersey, yeah you know the one and eat biscuits and drink Oros. The folks dressed Kwaku and I the same, it was simpler I guess, smart. The folks would shoot the breeze, some would get draaaannnkk, listening to Adjoa ey, reminisce of days gone by.  

Man it really was a great community we built. Leaving Ghana at such a young age, add to that not being able to get back to Ghana frequently, we never really got to know our cousins and the extended family was far. As children of expats we became each other's cousins, to this day we refer to each other as such. We became family. Growing up, I spent my half my life at a family called the Hinsons, who moved to the Holiday Inn not too long after we left or maybe during our last week there. Their home became my second home, Auntie Mary and Uncle Bruce my folks, Abeku my older brother I never had, Fifi my brother and Paa Kweku and Bibi my youngest brothers. Together with another brother Kwame Degbor, Edward (Fifi) and I, we were known as the 3 amigos, by our Geography teacher, Mr Smith, who would see us regularly as we paced through the streets of Fortgale. Another family that was close to ours was the Nganwas who came in 1995. Primrose the eldest daughter was in Nana Sarpong's class and they became mates, Peace, Adoma and Abeku were in the same class and they were friends and Philip was in the same year as Edward and I. I was really grateful for this community because we had so many role models to look up to growing up and still do to this day, so many of our older sisters and brothers, peers and younger folk making something of themselves, not only through vocation but how they are as humans and family people. Some of our 'aunties' and 'uncles' to this day, I have such huge respect and admiration for. 

Mthatha was really a village, but one of the better run villages, if I compare it to Engcobo, Lusikisiki, Mount Frere, Mount Ayliff, or Idutywa and Butterworth that we used to drive past often to East London. See Mthatha didn't have too many shops. During the 80s, the best we had was Jet, Sales House and Pep. So if you wanted anything, particularly electronic goods, you needed to go to East London. Our trips to East London were always fun. It would mean a stop at the Wayoes and sometimes the Hammonds too. We used to have a Toyota Corolla Station wagon, light blue in colour it was. Imagine rolling all 7 of us in this car wherever we went. I used to enjoy sitting in the boot, not sure why though, cos damn it was a hard ride. Those excursions always reminded us of the fact that the country was a bit loopy. On the Transkei side of the Kei River, we would have to get out at the border, get our passports checked and stamped, drive over the bridge and on the other side which was the South African side, have to go through the same exercise. Our go to shop was Elco where we would buy all our electronic goods and stuff. I remember so clearly my first introduction to being black in South Africa, I was a wee youth, who need a wee so bad. I had seen a public toilet nearby and walked in, a big burly man stopped me dead in my tracks and showed me a sign that said 'slegs blankes' (whites only), like I knew what that meant, I just needed a weee BAAADLLY. Anyway I found my way to the toilet for my kind, just in the nick of time.

Mthatha was such a good place for me and I learnt so many things from our time there. The best lessons were taught through my parents. The folks weren't wealthy by any stretch of the imagination but they gave us a good life and of what they had they were willing to share, true spirit of ubuntu. Not long after we moved to our home, the ritual was Sunday morning service at the Anglican church, followed by Sunday lunch at the Peprahs, which became a thing. Any new young Ghanaian professional who had just moved there was welcome to the house for some fufu, omotuo or jolof. If you needed a place to lay your head, the spare room was always available. It was a great lesson in humility, care and community. One that I hope to carry with me forever. 

They loved their craft and were so eager to be a part of young people becoming the best version of themselves. So many young men and women to this day remember Mrs Peprah of Vela and her husband... Ma was a rockstar in that town, the care she had for her pupils, she was hot (still is) her natural hair and the way she dressed got her plenty of Transkei mates. Pops was rocking life as the Ecos lecturer. I was touched by how deep his work went when a few years ago when I was in my old job at Wesgro, we had gone on a mission to Belgium I think it was, the ambassador unfortunately couldn't meet with us, but he waited to say hi to me because pops had taught him Ecos at Unitra and he wanted to say hi and for me to send his greetings. Having gotten there in the early 80's I guess they, along with some of the older 'settlers' became a sounding board or wise counsel for those that came later. I recall fondly so many young male doctors that in a way saw the folks as older sister/brother or folks. So many stories. We saw them through their cool uncle phases, to getting married, having kids, now some of their kids now having kids of their own... man what a trip.

Another lesson that we learnt was some sort of discipline and respect for your elders. In our community when we were growing up any adult could discipline your ass, and when your folks found out that uncle or auntie x disciplined you, a double dose of upper cuts was coming for your ass! When the old folks came we had to vamoose out of the lounge and go find something to do. There was one uncle that I always feared and enjoyed when he came to visit, for 2 reasons, Prof Wilson (rest his soul). Reason 1 sometimes he would allow me to wash his flashy cars, for a fee of course, Reason 2, main reason, he had 2 hoootttt daughters Lucie and Ingrid, ey but damn they had zero time for me, but like I cared, sheeee was I always excited when I knew prof was coming, even though the man scared the ish out of me. Large intimidating fella with a big grey beard.....SCAAARREEEE!! He would shit us out with no hesitation in our own home. 😂

On the discipline side, Saturday was inspection day. Bed needed to be made, clothes cupboards orderly, stand at attention next to your bed for inspection, once passed, we would head on over to the library to get some books. End of the week we were supposed to write a book review and the best one got more pocket money or something at the shop the next week. We would shop at S&P Super market and buy Cornish pies at Willies take away. It was the ritual. This was followed by tennis at the country club. Pops started teaching us tennis when I was 8. It has been our sport ever since. I have never really had the competitive spirit nor a backhand, but I was good enough to get by. I did pretty well in most sports but I was never out there to be the best, I hated playing badly but never minded being beaten, if I played my best. Nana Sarpong and Kwaku, were pretty good though. Adoma, shem she tried 😂😂😂

I still make my bed every morning, well most mornings and I have in later years developed a love of reading. It took me a while because of all the kids, I was the one who had to sit at the foot of my old man's bed and read whilst everyone else was living their best lives. Reading wasn't my fondest pastime back then. Oh and put it back where you took it from. Man my chores were plenty, washing the car, the dog, polishing the old man's shoes, all of them even the ones he hardly wore, mow the lawn and then locking the gate at night, damn I hated that chore, but I think it really helped me with my speed! Bloody hell i think that someone lived in that big fig tree by the gate i mentioned cos imagine being a youngster and then having to go and close the gate at night with very little light and the tree was in full bloom and constant ruffling. Dude, i used to stand at the kitchen door and plan my route, sprint out, right down the driveway, gate 1, then gate 2, latch it closed, wrap the combination lock around it, sprint back up, whatever you do ignore the damn tree, ignore.....oh shooot the man in the tree is coming for meeeeee....

Good, great times

In 1989 Nana Sarpong matriculated and settled on studying Accounting at Unitra. Adoma finished in 1991 and in 1992 headed to Rhodes University to do Pharmacy. In 1992/1993, the old man went on sabbatical to Boston to go and do his doctorate. Ma was left alone to watch over us whilst pops was out there. In 1995 Kwaku finished headed to Wits to study Medicine. Pops had left a little earlier to Johannesburg to take up a post at Wits in the public health unit. Ma left to join him in 1996 I think with Nana who finished school at Krugersdorp High School. 1993 was my final year at school, shucks 30 years this year, dayumm i'm old! I had been doing pretty well throughout my school career, but this was the big one and just by the skin of my teeth I made it into the only university in South Africa I wanted to attend. So in early jan 1994 I packed everything I owned, took up my seat in the Translux bus and my next chapter began at UCT.