coffeetshirt20076.jpgThere was worldwide celebration when Apartheid fell in South Africa. No longer would one group try to dominate the other. And how absurd and disagreeable that the dominant group was a minority. And white in what used to be the Black man’s country. A new era could begin. We were relieved and celebrated that the order of things returned to balance.  Men and women became legally free to participate equally in an open society, with no restrictions based on class or ethnicity.

So, how have things been going there, after the big changes in who holds power in the whiter districts?

Conditions in South Africa seem worse than conflict zones such as the West Bank or Beirut. At least in the Middle East there is enough racial segregation that communities are cohesive, and one lives relatively safely within one’s own tribe.

I’m against tribalism, and prefer a melting pot mentality. I’m Canadian, after all – we have one the more multicultural societies. But segregation/desegregation power struggles are like government coups – sometimes a revolution rises a new clan to ascendancy. Not a better clan. The French revolution and the American revolution, we are told, increased the autonomy of individuals. Is that always the case? Are the oppressed always better off when released from the bondage of a government by a tribe they don’t consider their own? History demands a detailed study of nuance, as it’s examples of cause and effect are varied. A doesn’t always cause B. Sometimes A causes C.

From Viceland:


I am an all-right-looking, white South African girl that’s been living in London for the last six months and it’s just occurred to me all these English guys asking, “So, why did you move here?” are only asking because they want to get in my pants. Instead of trying to decipher who genuinely wants to know and who simply wants to feel a vagina, I’ve decided to give Vice the breakdown and just hand out a copy of this article whenever libidinous tea bags head my way (of course, I’ll roll my eyes in a “so over it” way while I do it too).

 

 

So if you REALLY want to know why I came to London, first consider these statistics: Since 1994, the reported cases of burglary and attempted burglary at residential premises in the Republic increased by 32.8%. Robbery with aggravating circumstances followed a similar trend, with an increase of 39.3% over the same period. Ten percent of Jo’burg households were the scene of burglary over the last year and half of these occurred in broad fucking daylight. In 30% of these, the family was even home. And the murder rates? In the UK it’s 1 per 100,000, while the USA is 6 per 100,000. The good old, racially integrated melting pot of South Africa is 59 per 100,000.

It gets worse. Last month, a nongovernmental organisation called CIET conducted a survey into sexual violence among South African 10-19 year olds. South Africa, in particular places like my hometown, Johannesburg, is in the midst of an ever-expanding rape holocaust that’s driving girls like me out of the country like rats from a sinking boat made of AIDS and bite wounds.

The study, carried out among 270,000 white and black schoolchildren, showed that 60% of boys and girls alike think it is not violent to force sex with somebody they know. Tellingly, some 66% of those boys and 71% of girls had themselves been involved in forced sex. I could go on for days. How about the fact that 13% of South African youth still believe that “sex with a virgin cures AIDS?” Nice.
All of this is why we’re designing our homes and cars with more security extras than Professor X in X-Men 4.

I lived in Dainfern, an all-white secure complex surrounded by a 10-foot high, double electrified fence and border patrol. When I came home, I had to use my electronic control to open the front gates of the complex. Once inside, I had to wave to the armed guards at the gate who then checked my ID card and asked me to sign in. Then I would drive to my home and use another controller to get inside my front gate, then another controller to get inside my garage door. Once I locked the gate and the garage door, I’d use another lock to get inside my house.

Recently, my cousin was killed, shot in the head inside his own home. Two black guys broke into his home and killed him after shooting his brother in the stomach. They stole his $40 cell phone and nothing else. Things like that have made my family extra security-conscious, so we have an INVISIBLE LASER BEAM security alarm that operates all around the grounds and INSIDE our own house. We also bought secure, retractable security doors for every single room in the house. Most importantly, we had the more expensive security doors put between the kitchen and the hallway that leads to our bedrooms. Our house is literally zombie-proof.

My English friends all tell me it’s an extreme measure, but burglars from the townships are very clever these days and will often stake out a house for weeks before making their raid. Often, the safer a house the more dangerous it becomes. They look at it like, the bigger the security measures, the more expensive the loot inside the house, so if they really want to get in and take everything they will. They call it “affirmative shopping” (get it? Like affirmative action). If you’ve got a dog, they’ll poison the dog. If there’s a lock they want to pick, they’ll pick it. If a human stands in their way, they’ll kill it. That’s why you have to super-prepared. In all, the electric laser beams cost about 5,000 rand ($830 U.S.). The electric fence is about the same. The retractable security doors can vary. If they’re put around every window in a large house, including the doors inside the house, you can look at spending about 60,00 rand ($10,000). Usually the 10-foot gates outside your house come with the price of the sale.

New things, like a GPS monitoring system where you have a satellite pointing at your home and an armed response unit ready to come and kill everybody should you be disturbed, are slowly coming in but nobody I know has got one yet. That’s why I don’t know what GPS stands for.

What I do know is that two friends of mine—who are under 35—have recently installed B4-standard protection on their cars. This means their fucking cars can now withstand up to a .44 magnum attack. One other guy has a B5, which can withstand a multiple AK-47 attack. I don’t know of anybody who has B6—which can survive a Gatling gun attack—but I wouldn’t be fucking surprised if they got really popular very soon. The most outrageous example of how bad things have gotten has to be the Blaster. A $650 flame thrower designed by Charles Foire that comes out of the bottom of your car and engulfs the outside of it in flames. Carjackers are instantly blinded and become too worried about burning alive to continue robbing you. Sounds harsh but you don’t live in South Africa. Other stuff that people have in their cars include pepper gas dispensers, smoke screens and electrically charged handles, but unlike the Blaster, that shit is illegal and nobody wants to get caught by the cops. That’s why a lot of people don’t even have guns in their house. Burglary is so rife, if you have your gun stolen and it’s used in a robbery or a murder, the cops will be on your case so badly that it’s not even worth it.

The shit here is elephant-size and it’s hitting a giant whirlwind fan when the Zulu Nation gets the revenge on humanity they’ve been demanding for so long. People are going to have shit in their fucking Corn Flakes for breakfast. They’ll be barbecuing shit in the summer because all the shit that’s gone everywhere has planted shit seeds and sprouted into shit trees where giant flies will grow huge wings like chickens and they’ll baste them with shit sauce. Am I making myself clear? The argument that things will eventually settle down is very nice and comforting, but I, for one, don’t feel like living through the shitstorm. Neither, it seems, do lots of other educated whites, who are the cause of South Africa’s much-talked-about “brain drain.” After serving their compulsory community service in the townships, most doctors, lawyers, dentists and surgeons are hightailing it to America, Britain, or Australia, where getting raped and killed inside your own home is substantially less likely.

So who’s going to clean up the mess? The South African police have never been great, but previous to 1994, they were 40% white and 60% black. Since the 100% black government took over, the police are more like 90% black and 10% white. Racial revenge has taken over finding the right man for the job. The main problem however, is that the government would actually rather spend its time meeting white rock stars and waving from balconies on MTV specials than funding a decent police service. The cops are hired for the wrong reasons, underpaid, and therefore incredibly corrupt.

In South Africa, private security is a 13-billion-rand business, with more than 200,000 security guards employed by over 5,000 private security firms. For every police officer in SA there are two private security guards (who are also better paid—sometimes by more than twice).

It seems the only thing the SA police of today are good for is ignoring the law. They save lives by letting girls off with speeding tickets and fines for jumping red lights. You see, red doesn’t mean stop the way it does in your country. It means something more like “be careful” because carjacking is so rife. Recently, one of my girlfriends was carjacked by two guys. They smashed the driver’s side window in with a crowbar, which actually hit her in the chest, almost breaking her ribs. Luckily, she survived. There was a famous case a few years ago, when a woman was carjacked by a gang of black men at a red light. They gang-raped her, slit her throat, cut her stomach open and then started to play with her intestines. They left her to die, but she survived. I’ll bet she wished she’d bought a Blaster.

Anyway, that’s why I moved. I didn’t want to be in a country where I didn’t feel safe as a young white female. I didn’t want to live in a place where I had to lock every single door behind me twice and have laser beams in my kitchen. I didn’t want to have to buy car that’s designed to survive a nuclear explosion. Who can live like that?

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