Argus title : We must welcome Omar and show him he will be safe here
My mother has a poor memory. The other day I reminded her that Christmas is coming. She looked a bit confused, so I asked her if she could remember what we do at Christmas. She pondered hard, then replied “We think about God”. I asked what else and she said “We eat a lot” and then added triumphantly “and we think about people”.
My mother has always thought about people. She was one of that generation of women whose lives revolved around their families. She did not go to university and had no career to speak of. I think my father would have liked her to work, but her own father would have greatly disapproved. He loved her dearly, but as far as he was concerned it was the duty of men to provide for their wives and that of wives to care for the home.
And so my mother spent her life caring for her husband and her children and later her own mother and grandchildren. She did not question things or rebel. My father, on the other hand, raged against the world. He was fascinated by politics and in the early days of their marriage flirted with the South African Communist Party. Continue reading