I am in my jail cell. It is grey with cracks where past prisoners dug their fingernails, seeking a way out from these solid confines. There is no light here. I have to squint to make out the crease in the wall where the corner is. I close my eyes. The view is no different than before, but now I must rest. The rough blanket, curled in the corner, is my pillow. I rest my head, the coolness of the concrete floor reminding me that I am not back in my village but in Robben Island. If I use my little strength to pound the wall my neighbors would not hear because of our thick divide. I am alone with my thoughts, too many to fill this small cell. They put me here because they are afraid. If I am outside, standing up, spreading the fight, they know my people will listen. All we ask is to be free, but they cannot even grant us this one wish. If I raise my fist, who will see? I raise it though, clenching my bruised fingers together in solidarity. But what has happened? Another person has to be sealed away into this cage.

I never fully grasped the pain and suffering that the black South Africans were forced to endure during the years of Apartheid. I knew life was very tough, but the Apartheid Museum has illuminated the hardships. Before they were chosen to work in the mines or one of the other physically exhausting jobs, they were stripped naked, stood shoulder to shoulder, surrounded by fellow victims of this ruthless and inhumane Apartheid system. As we continued through the museum, I was appalled by the atrocities that these people had to endure. But I was also astounded that these sufferers were able to keep their heads up, and find, within themselves and each other, the hope and courage to continue fighting for the rights and freedoms that they so justly deserved.

As I continued past photos of oppression, I was struck by the subject of the segregated hospitals. In front of me were photos of lines of black South Africans with their names and ailments stamped onto their foreheads via tape. Waiting to see a doctor, patients would just get worse and worse, until eventually they would see a doctor, and then lie on a stretcher for even longer waiting for extra treatment. Children, possibly six years old and younger, were sleeping on the floor if their conditions weren’t too serious, with only blankets to protect them. Apartheid was a cruel, despicable, and sickening system of segregation and de-humiliation.

Exactly 17 years removed from apartheid, South Africa is attempting to stand strong along a rocky road ahead. There are some very severe gaping holes in the country. Whether it is their economy, political structure, poverty, unemployment rates, education system, or even the mindset of the youth, it is apparent that change is needed for the country for a visible better future.

At the Hendrik Verwoerd School, our Humanities 2 class had a group discussion with the other students about the term “democracy” and what the future holds for South Africa. Some debates got pretty heated as we shared many sides to the discussion. Recalling what one of the students said at Hendrik Vervoerd School, she stated that the country is at fault in many ways. “We listen to what our parents tell us…” which is why the mindset of the youth is so disoriented. This should not be the case, the youth is the possibility for change, and they are able to make change if the people of South Africa work together.

We are the generation after apartheid, so what’s holding us back? Partly to blame, is the education system. How can a student learn sufficiently while only reading one book a year? Many of the teachers come out of training from the apartheid era, which directly correlates to an inadequate education and is something that needs to change. Another sad fact that many of the locals were talking about were the high unemployment rates, 70% of citizens under the age of 34 are unemployed. This shocking statistic cannot be ignored. These are all things that are setting back the youth from advancing their country, and making it as seamlessly beautiful as it’s landscape, but are nonetheless difficult tasks that will require much effort from many different sources. Thus said, ways to solve these problems are still up in the air, but should not be disregarded. Learning these shocking realities about South Africa has made me more aware of global problems and how I can make a difference in this world.

     The church service today was my first ever, and it was quite something.  Never before have I experienced something like it.  We met up with Thebe, and the Soweto children we had met the previous day, at the church, and had a great time.  There was lots of singing, and the preacher wass quite hilarious.

     The Soweto kids had never been to the church either, so it was quite interesting for all of us.  I found myself moved despite my disbelief in God.  The sincere level of faith and devotion displayed during the service touched me deeply, and I was forced to believe that God can influence peoples lives even if he does not actually exist.  If American churches were like this as well I might actually consider going to services.  I found it shocking that the preacher not only preached about God, and the Bible, but also about day to day facts in the lives of the impoverished, and how people should strive to lift themselves from poverty and fear.  This was a powerful experience for me, and one that has drastically changed my view on religion for the better.