“This skin tone of yours, it helps you.”

South Africa is a country of extreme wealth and extreme poverty. This divide mostly runs along racial lines, having directly to do with the apartheid policy of South Africa’s past. Apartheid, a word that means separateness, was a system of legal racial separation in South Africa between 1948 and 1994. Under apartheid people were divided into racial groupings (black, colored, Indian, and white) and were forced to comply with government segregations of residential areas, education, medical care, and other public services. Whites were granted access to the best and most coveted of these services while non-whites were provided inferior services.

Since its inception apartheid had been warmly embraced by some and vehemently opposed by others. By 1994 after years of civil unrest and violence a new democratic government emerged. Although many things have changed in the 16 years since democracy, it must be said that only a few of the survivors from South Africa’s past received economic, physical and social redress. The country is still scarred from apartheid and the people most oppressed by the system still struggle economically, politically, and spiritually.

Photo during apartheid in South Africa, circa 1960's

During apartheid’s enforced residential segregation non-whites were forced to the outskirts of major cities like Cape Town and lived in areas called townships. These areas still exist today. They are clusters of erected shacks made of tin, wood, and cardboard. These shacks make up people’s homes and places of commerce.

I recently visited Khayelitsha, the largest township in South Africa. Khayelitsha (a isiXhosa word meaning “new home”) is a black township located on the outskirts of Cape Town in the Cape Flats. I accompanied two of my co-workers to an appointment with a group of women who live and work in Khayelitsha. These women run a school and are seeking funds to support the small institution.

Khayelitsha is visible from the highway. Rows upon rows of uneven one story tin shacks nestled within inches of each other can be espied from the comfortable distance of a speeding car. From such a distance, one can choose to not look in the direction of the gaping poverty though one can hardly miss it. But once one merges off the highway in the direction of Khayelitsha one cannot avert one’s eyes any longer. The same sun tanning the skin of vacationing tourists in the city beats down on the rusted sheet metal of the tin shacks that house Khayelitsha’s 400,000+ inhabitants.

Once in the township the roadways instantly recede into poor conditions, scourged with potholes and rubbish. Children fill the streets. Over 40% of Khayelitsha’s residents are under 19 years old. Eyes glance curiously at our oncoming car recognized as not belonging to a local inhabitant. Every few blocks there seems to be a central place where toilets are located and where water can be hand pumped at fountains. Our car rumbles on to meet the women we have come to visit with.

Khayelitsha Township

Once we arrive at our location, a four-roomed home very tidily kept; we vacate the car and meet our client. She welcomes us into her home and explains that she doesn’t know where her colleagues are so we sit down to await their arrival. The woman chats pleasantly with my co-workers in isiXhosa and then turns to me to tell me about herself. She is HIV/AIDS positive and sews to make money. She also teaches sewing to little children. Her eyes light up as she tells me she’s a teacher. She enjoys teaching her talent to others. She is also very focused and determined. She is eager to begin our meeting and continue working with HOPE Africa to ensure funds for the local school she works at. Her colleagues however never showed up and so we arranged to meet again when all parties involved could be present. She issued us out of her house with a warm smile and said she looked forward to seeing us again.

This woman’s life and living conditions are in stark contrast to the lives of some of her fellow countrymen whose skin happens to be a different color. Though apartheid is over, racism is still very much alive and mistrust is prevalent. I knew about apartheid because I read about it. But seeing its ripple effects is much different than reading about it. It was only 16 years ago that apartheid was still intact in South Africa. 16 years… not even 2 decades, not even a lifetime… Though the country has taken great strides to confront its past, scar tissue from apartheid’s scourge still rivets the land and the people.

I have heard some people’s stories and have seen the economic disparity still raking the country. I have been treated with respect while my black companion was ridiculed. After such an encounter my companion touched my arm and said to me, “this skin tone of yours, it helps you.” These things weigh on my heart. It is a lot to take in as it challenges me to confront my wealth, whiteness, sense of entitlement, and position of privilege. “This skin tone of yours, it helps you.” This phrase echoes in my head and in my heart as I try to make sense of it all. “This skin tone of yours, it helps you.”