Johannesburg

We came to live in Johannesburg in January 1953 when I was just 6 years old and my brother was 6 months old. My father had a job with the Johannesburg Parks Department as a gardener. We arrived with nothing together with many other struggling post second world war  families. My mother had to go out to work and for the next five years my brother and I were cared for by two nannies - first Alice who was Zulu. Alice only stayed with us a year when she was found to have TB. Our second nanny was Edith - a Cape coloured woman from the township of Alexandria. My childhood was as a child of apartheid and in the museum, through tears and great emotion, I relived my childhood and nursing years as a privileged white in the country of South Africa.

Terry who drew the ticket for non-whites at this museum and who had to go in a separate entrance as a result 

Jessica who is South African and who also lived within apartheid as a child and young person 

Nelson Mandela who towers in great stature  throughout the struggle against apartheid

The entrance to the museum suggesting a place of oppression and imprisonment but with the pillars of the constitution of the new South Africa standing proudly outside its walls .

Visitors at the Apartheid Museum in Johannesburg proceed through the courtyard past seven pillars, each celebrating one of the cornerstones of the South African Constitution  Democracy, Equality, Diversity, Respect, Freedom, Responsibility and Reconciliation. 

Jessica and Gay beginning a journey with mirrors showing that we too are on the journey through to a new era. 

The mirrors featured many significant people who were part of the journey throughout the years of the Struggle

Nelson Mandela



When we lived in Johannesburg my father's first job was cat the zoo where I spent many a happy day as a 7 year old. But then we moved to West Park Cemetery which is still South Africa's biggest cemetery where he became the assistant superintendent responsible for the gardens.

the gates to the cemetery had been made of wood in the fifties but had been knocked  into and damaged by a tractor and so replaced. 

The flowers sellers were alongside the walls in those days. It was well known that they would sell the flowers during the day and sometimes climb the walls at night to get the flowers back and resell them! At 5 every evening a night security patrol would report to my father and one of their tasks was to watch for the flowers sellers! 

And there was the house - No 2 - one of only two houses within the cemetery . the are opposite the cemetery is now very developed but back then it was just  bush 

Growing up in a cemetery you had to make your own fun as we had no living neighbours. I had a swing in this corner where I would swing for hours with my imaginary friends. their names were all listed - names that I had read on the tombstones.  We had a labrador - black - named Sally who was penned up in a run that ran alongside the garage.

The back wall of No. 2 where Dad painted a line so I could practise my tennis strokes

The cemetery office where my Dad worked when he wasn't in the nurseries 

The current tariff and.... 

.........the current admin staff. She was delightful and loved to hear my story.
Her name was Elisa. 

Just inside the main gate is a new era for South African heroes and there we found the grave of Nkosi Johnson



Nkosi Xolani Johnson was born on 4 February 1989 with HIV and was the longest surviving child born with the virus in the country. His mother has since died of Aids, and he was adopted when he was two by a foster mother, Gail Johnson.

In the absence of money for drugs, Nkosi had survived on a healthy diet, vitamin supplements and minimising the stress of being HIV positive. Ms Johnson attempted to give him a purpose by turning him into a spokesman for Aids awareness at a time when the country's infected population was silenced by the suffocating stigma of fear and prejudice. But for Nkosi, who had seen his real mother die of Aids, the frightening inevitability of his own impending death was never far away.

Speaking before his death Ms Johnson said: "We chatted about death... He had strong feelings about letting me down," she said.

"I told him I would miss him and no one could take his place."

Nkosi will be particularly remembered for a speech he made at the World Aids Conference in Durban in July 2000. He told delegates:
 

"You can't get Aids by hugging, kissing, holding hands. We are normal human beings, we can walk, we can talk."

He also scolded South African President Thabo Mbeki on his government's failure to provide drugs, which caused the miffed president to leave during the speech. He later told the BBC:

"I feel I am going to die quickly, like my mother died, very soon. But at least she got to be a grown-up. I hate having this disease."

In December 2000 Nkosi had a relapse and remained critical until his death. On 1 June 2001 a Johnson family spokesman said that Nkosi died at 0540 local time (0340 GMT) after a desperate final battle against the disease. Ms Johnson said:

''He's given Aids a face and allowed people who are still afraid of being associated with Aids to grieve openly. Most importantly perhaps, his fight and his bravery have given hope to many, many people."

Former South African president Nelson Mandela said he was an example for the whole world to follow. Mr Mandela told reporters:

"It's a great pity that this young man has departed. He was exemplary in showing how one should handle a disaster of this nature. He was very bold about it and he touched many hearts."

"You can't get Aids by hugging, kissing, holding hands. We are normal human beings, we can walk, we can talk."

"I feel I am going to die quickly, like my mother died, very soon. But at least she got to be a grown-up. I hate having this disease."

''He's given Aids a face and allowed people who are still afraid of being associated with Aids to grieve openly. Most importantly perhaps, his fight and his bravery have given hope to many, many people."

"It's a great pity that this young man has departed. He was exemplary in showing how one should handle a disaster of this nature. He was very bold about it and he touched many hearts."

The grave of a famous freedom fighter 

I'm sure those are the same palm trees. My mother learnt to drive in this cemetery with its many roads with stop signs and roundabouts! She never did drive on the roads of Joh'burg but managed to drive around Kitwe very competently for many months before she was persuaded to go for a test!

roads

The cemetery was traditionally divided into sections. This was the Portuguese section 

When I was a little girl growing up in West Park I would spend ours wandering around the different sections. My favourite were the children's sections. I was fascinated by their tiny stories on the stones and the angels that adorned them.  I knew where the dump was for the flowers that had died on the graves and once collected  a big bag of ribbons for which I got into a lot of trouble. My father did not think it was seemly!

Jacaranda trees make a mauve carpet at this time of the year

Just another tiny glimpse of an African childhood.......I really must write that book!