Baptism by Fire

It is fifteen years since the winds of change swept through this land. Fifteen years since our democracy was conceived, since it first stirred in the womb of our consciousness. Fifteen years since we triumphantly declared that we were free and said “never again”. With the memory of our dead children and burnt homes still freshly etched in our memories, we promised that the generations to come would live in a country where freedom and equality are placed before political ideology. A country where men and woman of every race, creed and colour could live together as equals, where no man was above the law, and where a bright future shone for all.

We had a dream. A dream that, one day, our people would no longer have to suffer under a yoke of fear – fear of deportation, the silent raid in the night, the scourge of police brutality. That, one day, all the men and women of our nation would be able to walk freely through the streets with their heads held high.

We had a dream. No longer would discrimination and ostracization be the weapons of the oppressor. No longer would the true people of this very Africa be denied their birthright. No longer would our land be shunned by the nations of the world.

We had a dream. Fifteen years have passed since our country was resurrected from the ashes of its shameful past, and we were granted a blank slate on which to record a new history. Fifteen years since our baptism by fire, when we were purified of the sins of our fathers. Fifteen years since we threw off the shackles of apartheid and proclaimed that we were free.

We had a dream.

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