The New Year's resolution is a famous part of this col ourful act that man puts on every year,always makes its appearance with great promise. But these false hopes soon give way to temptations ofthe real world.I vow to have a happy and prosperous year I told myself. But many promised themselves the world;they promised to change,butthey didn't realize that you are what you are and no matter how manyempty resolutions you make,it is very difficult to change the small things that you hate. May'94 be a year of peace, was a dream that so many, at the majestic waterfront, had. But the chime of 12 o'clock would unveil a year that would be totally and utterly devastated by violence; violence that would tear down the conservative walls of apartheid forever. Free and fair are two words that would echo in every house hold in a very unfair South Africa. The traditional actofNew Year's Eve was notentirely a shiny false fagade to our problems,it did in factshow us that unity is possible even though everyone suddenly became strangers at the strike of midnight. On leaving the so-called "stage" namely the V and A waterfront I was horrified,for it was when I gazed at the many who had nothing,those who had spent the evening with the only friend they knew, a bottle of alcohol clothed in a brown paper bag,thatreality dawned on me.These peo ple had even given up hoping,for they knew what lay ahead of them and they knew that hoping for a better life would not provide a house,someone who cares and takes away the pain ofloneliness. Maybe I have a different role to play in the"act"oflife, but it was that night. New Year's Eve of 1993 that it dawned on me that man does not do enough,he simply hopesand makesresolutions,so maybe in yearstocome man should rather do more so that when he awakens on New Year'sDay whathe will have achieved will be more thanjust a headache. M. VORWERG "SHADOWSOF CHILDHOOD" THESHADOWS OFA GOD Dark, light, blood,fear, pain, birth! A baby,"like a fat gold watch"likes in its God's arms,its father's.A grain of sand against a mountain ofrock I lay and with ador ing eyesIfollowed every movementofthe greatrock of immense proportions which towered over me;a smiling cherub of happiness, my face like a glow-worm shed ding lightinto the darkness.Yet as I watched cracks and holes crept through my rock, leering, taunting and do ing their dance of death.Dad,I am afraid, your shadow is falling over me. My father was no democrat but rather an omnipresent dictator who told me to leam,but would not teach,told me to play,but would not watch and told me to achieve, but would not admire. Father you created me yet why do you not love me?Your image is overpowering,butI don't want to be your clone. You crucify me daily hanging me up and hammering the nails ofcontempt into my aching wrists. You leave me there letting the vultures of life peck at me,ripping my flesh offmy bones.You don't protect me,you leave me, why don't you love me? Your shadow is getting bigger and more terrifying,someone please help me. Mother, you are the Olympic torch bearer of all hopes and dreams thatI have.You watched me when I played, you taught me to teach myself, but most of all you ad mired even when I failed. You fought the shadows with your rapier-like wit, not my father's calloused cudgel. Your torch removed the shadows from my life, fighting back the menacing, growling demonsofthe dark.You wereloved by every one especially me. Yet he hurt you and I wanted to kill him. Thunderstorms surrounded my eyes and I begged him, pleaded with him to stop, but he would not listen. He would nottalk,he would growland send mefleeing back to your arms.You scattered the storm clouds. Your earthquake finally madethe mountain into a mole hill and the shadows shattered like glass.Ilay there feel ing the surgeon cutting off all ties you had with dad and then turning to me.With the disdain exhibited in cutting a wart offa hand,he amputated mefrom my father.Fa ther, why have you forsaken me? Myfather'semotions were the actors on a stage and only the scalpel ofdivorce wiped the makeup offtheir faces. He had feelings that rushed like a landslide tearing up anything in their path and,although he had tried to keep me out of the way, he had failed. It was too late; the shadows had grown too large,there was no going back. I had learnt that life can be dangerous and full of dis may, but the gift of love that a child has is a flaming sword driving demons away.I realized thatthe shadows which had terrified mefor most ofmy childhood would be the cementfor the palace ofadulthood.The shadows had terrified me,but had prepared me for the trials and tribulations and I have my father to thank. Though the shadows were gone,a gaping black hole replaced them and once again I begged my father"Let me understand so thatI can brush the rust offthe Idol ofiron and steel, my father, my God." B.MAKEIN "LIKE A SLEEPY BLUE OCEAN" I lifted the heavy yellow air-tanks into the boat and spun around to grab the rest ofmy gear.I was excited finally be to going on my first dive after two weeks oftraining. Once everyone had climbed in,the motors roared to life as the boat cut effortlessly through the waves, leaving only a small white wake which was soon enveloped by the waves. The wind blew strongly on my face. Once over the backline the ride was smoother and even faster. A small tern dipped from an incredible height, closing the face of its wings and dropping like a stone into the emerald green sea. From the small splash emerged the bird, wings beating frantically, a small silvery fish glis tened in its beak in the morning sunlight struggling to free itselffrom the grip. The sea changed colourfrom an emerald green to a dark blue as the sand bank shelved away. The boat headed straight for the reef. Once past the sand bank the bird life faded as quickly. Everything was calm and sleepy. The large motors shuddered to a halt and the anchor dropped into the water.Thechainflicked quickly through 46 Kearsney Chronicle 1994
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTc3MDU5Nw==