Xenophobia Vigil

So I went along today. Not sure if it was out of curiosity or because I cared.

But when I got there, I was blown away by the silent power of everyone’s emotion. There was no question of violence. These were just fellow South Africans stating that what is happening is wrong. With dignity. Commanding respect.

The vigil rekindled the regret that I never got to experience the passion of university campus life; being swept up in a cause.

But you know what? It’s not too late. I can still stand in the middle of the road outside parliament. As a middle-aged white woman. With my poster. Saying THIS IS WRONG! Perhaps I will have more credibility than ‘just another radical student’? Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know.

But I do know that it felt good to be there today. It made me feel less inadequate when I dropped off toilet paper, peanut butter, soap, bread, milk, tea and sugar at the local church which is expecting 200 refugees from the townships tonight.

I don’t know what else I could have done. I don’t have the courage to drive into the townships and ferry displaced people who fear for their lives. I’m too selfish to share my home with 20 homeless people who don’t know where their children are.

What have you done? What would you like to do? What will you regret when it’s all over?