How deep do we dig for hope?

A friend of mine recently made the remark that racial intolerance is literally just below the surface of South African society. No matter where you scratch, or how lightly, it surfaces everywhere. Penny Sparrow was unlucky enough to be singled out but the fact is it could just as easily be anyone else.

The issue of racism has indeed enjoyed renewed publicity and flair recently, but this is only one of several crown pillars that collapsed in South Africa. The economy has to be one of the largest and we all sit by and see how our hard-earned rands buy less of what we need to survive while basic public services reach all-time lows.

The drought is also doing its part to press down on both the economy and the already endangered farmers of South Africa, who by the way, will also be facing labour rate increases in March. While we are trying our best to deal with all of this it is becoming quite obvious that we are walking around like loaded guns and it does not take much to set off the trigger.

Countless videos of assaults on and by traffic officials have seen the light this past year and the issue of family murders is again rearing its despicable head. The tension and distress are more than tangible; it is choking us. As Koos Kombuis so aptly describes in his song, “Loser’s Universe”: “But just don’t think it’s all my fault, I know exactly who to blame,” we too have become well skilled at passing the buck.

White minorities deflect everything back to the black leadership who have been in charge during the troubled times, while the black masses still dwell on the fact that they were wronged in the past and not enough has been done to rectify it.

So on the one side of the fence people are singing “De La Ray” while the other side chants “Kill the boer” and then somewhere in a little known place called Low’s Creek three people are sucked into the ground in a little metal box and the entire country gathers around their TVs to see if they’ll make it out alive.

For two weeks now I have witnessed how new bits of information get scattered across social media and for the first time in my job as online editor I have seen the constant criticism, bantering and insult slurring of the comments section soften up and transform into prayers, well wishes and sympathy.

It reminds me of the massacre at Tiananmen Square and the June 4th Incident of 1989 when Beijing troops with assault rifles and tanks inflicted casualties on unarmed students.

They were protesting for government accountability, freedom of the press, freedom of speech, and the restoration of workers’ control over industry. Roger Waters wrote a song called “Watching TV”, which looks at how the death of a young female student, which was televised, influenced the outcome of the movement.

He sings:

She’s everybody’s sister

She’s symbolic of our failure

She’s the one in fifty million

Who can help us to be free

Because she died on TV

In the past weeks we have seen people from different parts of the country, various different fields of expertise, multiple races, denominations, cultures and classes, all work together towards a common goal. When the initial report of the Lily Mine collapse came through it was colourless.

When we found out that three mine workers were stuck in a container underground and they had to be rescued, nobody asked what colour they were. Even when their names were made public it made no difference and miner, rescue worker, CEO and civilian all got their hands dirty and did what they felt they had to do. Racial tension is just under the surface – it is a fact.

But if we dig deep enough there is something worth saving: hope. I’m not saying three people had to die for us to dig deep enough to find it, but if, as many believe, they have perished, it was not in vain.

Unfortunately, as the dust settles on the mine and new tragedies unfold, hope will again be buried just like the miners. But things can’t keep disappearing into the sinkholes of this country. Something has got to give.