The burden of not switching off and always seeing underdog stories and inequality hit hard for #SliceofGasant columnist Gasant Abarder last week – even whilst on holiday. Upon his return from a restful week, he returned restless, dreaming of the possibilities of prosperity on the West Coast if all things were equal.
There is nothing quite as invigorating this time of the year than dipping your toes in the icy Atlantic waters of the West Coast. I say dipping because it is far too cold to swim. It’s a much-needed retreat from the madness of traffic, work, school and adulting as we enter this last phase of the year. I’ve never been to The Hamptons in New York, but the private estate where we stayed must be the equivalent, if not more decadent.
The people in the estate are, as that lovely Afrikaans word best describes, rustig. The kindness and generosity are palpable, and the conversations are plesierig. Some of the triple-story houses, all painted in white and flanked by a golf course and the ocean, are dedicated holiday houses much larger than your own house in the suburbs.
It is the idyllic place, just under two hours from the city, to rest and recharge.
This weekend, back home, a friend told me of an elderly woman from Salt River who must sell her paid-up house because she can no longer afford the market-related rates the city has imposed. It’s the creep of gentrification where people who have lived in suburbs for generations are forced out thanks to municipal accounts. It is quite a stealthy, if not cynical, move to change the complexion of our city.
But on the West Coast, for entirely different reasons, the fate for those who live on the margins is more pronounced. A better life for all is still just an election promise. Not everyone can be a lucky star or a Glen who is ryck, I guess.
We left our little spot of heaven daily to explore the nearby towns. I was struck by one scene where four coloured men tried to get my attention, grocery bags in hand. They were drinking beer on the side of the road before 12 noon. Their plastic supermarket bags were filled with live West Coast rock lobster that looked suspiciously on the smaller side of legal.
The crayfish cost just R50 each. The irony when we had lunch at a beachside restaurant just two minutes away, to find crayfish on the menu with that ominous SQ price tag, didn’t escape me. I didn’t bother to SQ and had delicious hake and chips instead.
But it got me thinking: these men should be making a legitimate living from the sea that will afford them a payday enough to also own a beach house. They said their fathers and forefathers were fisherfolk. Yet, they lurk in the shadows, selling crayfish illegally when it should be their main source of income; criminalised by the very government departments that should be empowering them.
Most brown and black people work in restaurants, stores or are fuel jockeys. Others work in the giant processing plants that are household brands on supermarket shelves. In the town where we stayed, the coloured community is a drive away and a far walk from amenities and even further away, ‘kasi’ is not even on the horizon.
Yes, we live in a free market economy. But these massive industries that strip our seas of crayfish, pilchards, hake and snoek should be giving back. Just 1 percent of your takings could be invested for your workers in an employee share scheme, so they may have their God-given seat at the table. Or build schools, clinics and recreational facilities. With very little impact on your bottom line, you could be funding bursaries or helping to kick-start entrepreneurs with business incubator programmes.
The West Coast could be such a different place where socio-economic challenges and generational inequality can be permanently eliminated over time. But the chase to get even richer will, unfortunately, be the probable order of the day for more generations to come. The talent, resourcefulness and work ethic of the working class will be spent on menial labour, making multibillion-rand companies richer.
We need to rethink inequality. Each time someone says so-and-so needs to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, remember that so-and-so still lives a life of subsistence, grew up like that, and their children’s children probably will too. They may never live in those white triple-story beach houses they can see so near across the bay, but that are so far out of reach.
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Picture: Supplied.
