Timus Mubia escaped with only his life twice in the past 11 years in South Africa. Called a kwerekwere and hounded out of various townships for being Namibian and for being unable to speak isiXhosa, he has been living in various refugee camps for the past five months.
This article is from the South African Mail and Guardian. Most of the story is told in his own words. It is just one story, and he is just one man. But it is a story worth hearing, as most stories are. It is a random story, which I lighted on by chance. It reminded me that things are not as simple as people like to tell us. Distrust of those we exclude from the categories that include ourselves is universal. Circumstances change and the categories wax and wane, as does the heart of man.
Read the whole thing. It is sad, partly because he seems to accept too readily a fate he does not understand. But it is also a reminder of how, in the end, we are all the same. And that is very sad indeed.
Panettone: augmentative of the diminutive
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