Which of us is Truly Alive?

February 1, 2023 – Johannesburg, South Africa

We met a man during our first hour in Africa I won’t soon forget.

Our travel agent had arranged for a driver to meet us at Johannesburg airport. A handsome 30-something fellow holding a sign with “Paton” written on it, greeted us as we emerged at the Arrivals gate.  April introduced himself and immediately quizzed us on our relationship to Alan Paton, the notable South African and author of the book, Cry the Beloved Country.  I was astonished that he was familiar with Paton and his book published in 1948, and its historical significance. 

April’s knowledge of South African history didn’t stop there. As he navigated along the congested streets of Johannesburg, he narrated a vivid chronicle of the country and its current state of affairs. I have read much about the South African story, but I never expected to have it brought to life like this; April intertwined South Africa’s epic history with his personal experience as a lifetime resident.

We learned that April is of Swana ancestry (as in “Botswana”). He speaks all eleven of South Africa’s official languages and is a self-taught authority on African history. As he drove us across Johannesburg, April regaled us with historical events, places, and timelines, mixed with his personal narrative.

April is the embodiment of the post-apartheid African.  His mother and older siblings live in the “north” (I assume he meant Botswana).  He has a wife and two children, aged 2 and 7, who live with him in the townships on the outskirts of Johannesburg.  April is the youngest of four siblings and the only one to matriculate from college.  His mother worked “away” while he was growing up (I am not sure where “away” meant).  His older brothers raised him and paid for his schooling, working as farm labourers.  April holds a journeyman plumber’s ticket, but there is no work in the north.  He relocated to Johannesburg to find employment but has not found opportunity in his chosen vocation, so he works in the tourism industry.  The money April earns ferrying travellers like us around supports his family in the townships and supplements his extended family in their homeland.

But there is never enough.  Covid wiped out tourism income, so April’s life has been difficult the past two years.  I could sense the strain as he articulated how challenging life had become for his family, and so many South Africans.

April remained positive throughout the dialogue.  We were coaxing sensitive information from him, and he was answering candidly, but he never lost his optimistic tone. Even when describing his corrugated tin two-room house, with outdoor plumbing, April exuded a cheerful, hopeful attitude.

April gave us the hand’s-on African experience we came for.  I hadn’t expected it to happen the first hour in Africa; I couldn’t have asked for a better introduction to the country.

The first African we met was a bright, articulate, perceptive man, wonderfully immersed in the reality of South Africa.  We connected with April for only 60 minutes as he drove us to our accommodation, but I can honestly say that we made a friend, someone I would be thrilled to exchange stories with again.

I came away from the experience with the sense that, despite the difficult reality of living in Africa, there is a wholesomeness to life here.

We spent the evening sipping complimentary champagne by the koi pond at the resort.

April probably spent his evening entertaining his seven-year-old daughter with a zippered Delta Airlines pouch, containing a toothbrush, socks, and salted almonds.  I envision that April also tucked a US$20 bill into an envelope and sent it to his mother in Botswana.

I am feeling very privileged tonight, but I wonder …

…which of us is truly alive?

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