I spent my youth in East London, growing up in the Railway community. By now we were five kids, three girls and two boys. Not a wealthy family. We lived comfortably, though, in a three-bedroom railway house, and nothing came your way if you didn’t really need it. My dad was strict, but fair. I was boxing out of Turnbull Park, the Railway
WINTER JUNE 1970 I am 6 years old, and a few months into my school career and lived with my parents in a town in the Northern Cape called Vryburg. My dad worked on the railway and my mom was a housewife, raising four kids, of which I am the eldest. One early winter’s morning I, as usual, cycled to school. My hands
Everyone has a story to tell. The journeys of my life could be in a way your journey, just different in setting and time. The difference between you and me could be the way we were raised or taught, but we are not talking about you. We are talking about my life and how it played out through good times and bad.
