Dora's - Fight For Equal Rights

by Claudia Viana

  Danie

  My mother drove us to school today. All my friends were asking if I felt better, and I felt glad to be surrounded by them. At the same time I have feelings of disgust as I think about how badly they speak about the Bantu people and how racist they all can be. After meeting Dora, and hearing about her hard life something inside me has started changing my perspective about life here in South Africa. People aren’t born racist but we grow up being taught certain principles and certain ways. All my friends for sure despise the Bantu people. They began asking me how I was able to skip school yesterday, and luckily I skipped the dreaded math test. I told them I was sick but I was not about to tell them that I had spent my valuable time talking to Dora. What would they think of me? That I was a Kafferboetie, talking to black people. Because that’s what we Afrikaners call other people that feel sorry for or mix with black people.

  We all have caretakers and nannies that have been with our families for a while now, and we all respect them because as boys we mostly feel their reassuring and comforting motherly side. I told them I had met this girl named Dora, immediately they started teasing me. The fact that I skipped school and met a girl was impressive to them. I feel a bit bad, that I did not reveal the fact that Dora is Black, and in a way the more I think about her, the more I like her. I wrote this poem last night, thinking of her. Hopefully I can show it to her soon. I began expressing how racism is around me and then I tried to include some literary devices that I learnt in school the other day.

  It goes like this,

  “Racism, Racism, Racism

  For its around me everywhere

  In a place

  In a country

  In a world

  In a twirled up Universe

  Melt away Racism

  Freeze as time passes by

  Discrimination on race?

  It’s here

  It’s alive

  It has a pulse

  Through under our skin, we are all flesh, blood and Equal

  Love is the power of the World

  Educating youths one at a time

  Our Colour

  Our race

  Our Religion

  Why does that distinguish us?

  We have the same sense

  And emotions

  Racism

  In a twirled up Universe

  In a world

  In a country

  In a place

  For racism is around me everywhere.

  Racism, Racism, Racism.”

  This poem reflects my thoughts and opinions. I am scared of telling my friends about Dora. I know I will be severely judged becoming friends with Dora. Especially since Dora is of a different skin colour. Hopefully I can change their perspective and this poem will make them think. Will they be-friend me or accept me? Only saying will tell, but I’m not ready to tell them. Not now at least, I don’t have the courage yet.

  Dora

  Walking in to school, confident and proud of our idea. We are determined to achieve success. The fact that the South African government has enforced this law requiring that secondary education by conducted only in Afrikaans, rather than in English or in our African native languages, it has provoked many students. We had a test today and we all stood up against our teacher with our pencils up high. My arm began aching as I held it high up. The pencil began to slip as the sweat on my hand was leaving me with no grip. We all held our pens and pencils up high as we represented freedom of speech. We have the freedom of education and the freedom of speech to learn in Xhosa, Zulu or any other African language.

  So far, we have had several teachers that have tried to ignore this law and were fired, encouraging staff resignations. Tension has grown, and I think that many students will agree with us. We went to class, and as soon as it was break time we spread the news around. Students have sacrificed before, refusing to write papers in Afrikaans and they were expelled, but if we protest as a group they wont be able to expel all of us. Years have built up, and anger towards the brutal Apartheid government has reached a limit where all students are about to explode. This is our opportunity. The Soweto youth uprising needs to express our anger and the only way we will make a change is by this march. As more students agreed with us, the word spread quickly. Students started creating posters and banners saying “Down with Afrikaans” and “Viva/Free Azania”. This is the name that is given to South Africa by our black community nationalists. All of a sudden, Hector found me and told me that the word had spread somehow to other schools and more students would be joining us. I let him know that we would meet on our way there.

  Dora

  Left, right, left, right. Hector, Kimone and I walked in the same pace in front. After seconds, the group behind us swelled increasingly. There were too many students to count; it looked around 10,000 students to around 20,000. But no one could count all of us. We were almost arriving at the Orlando soccer stadium, where initially planned to meet but I guess everyone was so anxious that we had surprisingly united together earlier. I felt the excitement thriving inside me. Walking there, expecting the un-expected. Today is not the only day a riot has taken place. This all began three months ago in March, when pupils refused to attend school as we all see this discriminatory rule against our type. White kids, including Danie get to chose which language they want to learn in. Such fortunate people, that get life handed right to them.

  Everyone continued walking, as we knew what we were all here doing. Kimone began to get worried as her younger sister was somewhere behind us but as soon as she saw the other thousand of students she thought it would be best to stick with her. As soon as she had turned around, I grabbed her hand and looked her deep into her hazel nut eyes. I said to her “As soon as you find her, come meet me here in the front.” She looked at me right in my eyes and replied, “Of course, we stick together. If I don’t find you in time, please come back and find me.”

  As much as I would like to stay in the front and represent our march, she is like the sister I never had and I want to be with her with this begins.

  I let go of her and off she went, I could see her walking away for two seconds, and then I lost her. I have to push through a few other students until I get back to Hector. Everyone was so tight together that when Kimone and I were talking, people had been pushing us backwards. However now I was in the front with Hector as he held his black banner high up. The writing was in white and stood out as it contrasted on the poster. As we were approaching the stadium, the crowd of students had began peacefully but loudly saying their banner quotes and some including me that had no banner, were singing “Nkosi Sikelel’ IAfrika”. I felt so united and confident. Suddenly I look and police were standing in front of us. The tension grew as conflict began to immerse almost immediately. All my confidence, felt like it had frozen and was about to melt away.

  Dora

  I didn’t expect the police to arrive so suddenly. It was only on our pathway there heavily armed police were waiting for us. I looked to my left, and even Hector that is younger than me, stood up proudly and straight. He didn’t even need to turn to look at me and he said continuing to look straight ahead “Dora, believe in the future ahead. Sacrifices need to be made. Have faith.” I smiled as us students in the front row linked our arms together. We peacefully continued to sing as we took a step forward. I suddenly thought of Kimone, she hadn’t made it back yet. I stood strong though, and felt Hector’s confidence that made me feel on top of the world. I was stuck in a conflicting situation to decided between Hector and Kimone, but I had made a promise to her. I whispered in Hectors ear, “I will be back, and we will strive for greatness, and gain a victory in the end.” Abruptly, I heard a sound like Tink. I looked down and they began throwing rounds of tear-gas at us. Hector kissed my hand, and told me to go. As I turned around and screamed “Viva Afrika”, I heard a gun shot. This time the sound was different from the first rounds fired. This for sure was a gunshot; there was a distinct difference in the sound. I
looked back to see what was going on, and all of a sudden my heart sank to my knees. “Hector!” I screamed. He was lying on the floor. I looked around and everyone around me was trying to fight back. The white police had given us no warning, and simply open fired into the crowd. Students around me were throwing anything in they came in hand with. A girl next to me handed a rock, I looked down. It was Kimone’s younger sister. I asked her where Kimone was and she had not seen her since the beginning. Troubled by what I heard and saw, I was shaking. I did not want to look to see if Hector was suffering or not. I turned to Kimone’s sister and told her that I was going to Hector and for her to run away. To go tell Kimone that I will forever love her for whom she is, and to find a white boy named Danie Coetzer, a boy that will help her. I looked at her, over the gunfire shots, “tell my mother I love her.” Trembling, I breathed in, gasping for air. I walked away, towards the police, towards Hector.

  I knew from that moment, that there was no going back. I saw his body and jumped towards him, as the boy next to me was even throwing his schoolbag to attack the police. The police showed no mercy. Waves of tears, were running down my face as I looked at Hector, and saw the blood soaking up his shirt. I was horrified. I looked up and saw police attacking students of all ages. We were completely defenceless, heavily out numbered, and unable to protect ourselves from the gunfire. I looked up and saw a white policeman; he looked me right in the eye. I looked down at Hectors body, kissed him on the forehead and quivering I said “Goodbye”. He had much less than I had, yet he always has a smile on his face. Even when he was busy getting angry, he would always find the time to appreciate the things we have in our life. Always seeing the good things in bad situations. I knew this was the end; as I looked up to the blue cloudy sky, boom! I felt the bullet hit. I fell right next to Hector, lying with my back against the floor. Suffering, worse than that time I was whipped. This was a pain, I have never felt before. I slowly closed my eyes, and I was gone.

  Danie

  I heard about the riot that took place. I hope nothing bad happened to Dora. I began to worry, as the only thing on the news was this Soweto March. The South African government basically declared war on the black school students. All my friends were talking about it today in school and the fact that over 360 black students were killed. This boy Hector was apparently the first one to fall. His photo is being shown everywhere, as the black photographer, Sam Nzima took it and published it for the world to see the horrifying tragedy.

  Concernedly, as soon as I got home I went straight to look for Anesu. I looked everywhere; most probably she had gone home earlier. I went to my mother and asked about Anesu. She gave me this sympathetic look. My heartbeat began pacing rapidly. She sat me down and said “Honey, unfortunately Anesu’s daughter was shot and killed yesterday in the riot and she wasn’t able to come to work today.” My body crumpled backwards into the couch pillow. After a moment of silence, she broke the quietness and added “But don’t worry, she’ll be here tomorrow to clean the house.” I looked at my mother, like I have never in my life looked at someone. Appalled and sickened by what she had just said. I stopped listening as soon as she said the word “Shot”. Only after the silence did I hear what she had said. After everything that’s what’s she’s worried about! I threw my bag to the ground and walked slowly upstairs. My mother called after me, I ignored her as I continued walking to my room. I shut my bedroom door closed and sat by the windowsill. It felt like a bullet had ripped through my chest and the wound wouldn’t stop bleeding. Salty drops of tears began to run down my cheek, and dropping down onto my beige carpet floor. I started sobbing for Dora and mostly Anesu, what pain she must be going through, her only child. Dead.

  As soon as I heard what my mother had said, it felt like everything had slowed down to a stop. I looked out the window, and saw the rain beginning to drizzle. It had seemed as if the world was just as upset and sad as I was. If my friends had known Dora, they would understand my point of view and why I feel so heartbroken on the one side and ashamed for being white on the other side. Although I haven’t told my friends about Dora, I am not ashamed anymore. Dora has taught me something so valuable in such a short time of knowing her, and many things in my life, that has awakened something inside me. A feeling of fairness and justice. Her heroic actions have given me the confidence and courage to stand up for what I believe. I look up to the sky, the deep blue sky and think if she’s there looking down and smiling at me encouraging me to stand up for inequality and prejudice. I wish that this is all just a dream, and I will wake up finding you. Rest with your dream, in my dream. I send regards and my respects to Anesu. I know that Dora was the world to her. The only reason she lived and sacrificed every day of hers was to provide Dora a future. I never said goodbye to her. I never truly said goodbye. I will live in her memory and fight for her beliefs. Hopefully one day, I can live in a world where everyone is accepted. Her dream was for the world to appreciate others spirits, and for who they are and not what they are.