The inner circle: Recollections from the last days of white rule, by Jan Heunis

The inner circle: Recollections from the last days of white rule, by Jan Heunis.

The inner circle: Recollections from the last days of white rule, by Jan Heunis.

In his book, The inner circle, Jan Heunis' recollects from the last days of white rule in South Africa. Jan Heunis is the son of former Constitutional Development minister Chris Heunis.

[...] I grew up in a house in a cul-de-sac at the edge of the forest in George South.The forest effectively divided the town in two parts. The first part of my conscious life was about missing my father, a busy young attorney and community person. I got many expensive gifts from him, such as had seldom been seen in a small town like George. He had a small yacht built for me, gave me a tricycle with a little bakkie, also specially built for me, a bicycle much too large for me, a scooter with air-filled wheels, and a weird-looking three-wheeled whatever. I gave virtually all these things to the children of Standers-gang, very poor people who lived a block or two away from where I lived. I remember at least one occasion when my mother went to retrieve some of these gifts. I suppose I got all these fancy presents because my father felt that he had to compensate for his absence. To me my father was something of a demi-god whom I desperately missed. Our house was opposite what is known as a 'meenf, the common, as large as four rugby fields. I remember one day I called out to my father when he arrived home from work (accompanied by a friend, colleague or whatever). I was desperate for him to watch me kick and catch up-and-unders. After many sessions of practice on the meent I was near perfect at it. Predictably I did not catch the ball this time. I so much wanted him to watch my second effort, but he did not. Equally predictably I made a similar hash during the only rugby game I played in that my father came to watch. At the time I revelled in the adoration of my grandmother on my father's side. She was deeply involved in charity work, and my generosity made us allies. She unashamedly called me Jan number one, and made no bones about the fact that I was her favourite grandson. Small wonder that the others gave me such a hard time on our meent. When I was young, I was blissfully unaware of the fact that my father, who was involved with the activities of many organs of civil society, was also the member of the provincial council for the constituency of George. PW Botha was the member of parliament. I was rudely confronted with this reality when my standard two teacher, a particularly nasty piece of work, told me out of the blue that I should not think that I was special because my father was the local MPC. I had no idea what he was talking about. By reason of his membership of the Cape Provincial Council, my father had to attend sessions of that Council in Cape Town from time to time. One Sunday afternoon during the school holiday, shortly before he was due to leave for Cape Town for one such session, I hid in the car in a futile attempt to go with him. Predictably I was seen and told to get out of the car. I went to sit and sulk in the lounge where my mother found me and told me to go and get ready because my father was coming to pick me up. I actually went with him to Cape Town for the week. When I was 13, my father became a member of the executive committee of the Cape Provincial Council, as a result of which the family had to move to Cape Town. Thus we went to live in an official residence in Newlands, and I started attending the Groote Schuur High School at the commencement of the second term of my standard seven year. I saw even less of my father, since he travelled to George and back every weekend (on one occasion three times during a single weekend) to be in his constituency. I was desperately unhappy in the new school, and missed my friends in George and the forest in which I used to play for many hours of the day, frequently by myself. Despite being extremely unhappy, however, I was, for some reason, voted head boy of the school as well as the pupil who meant the most for other pupils, in my matric year. [...]

This is an extract from: The inner circle: Recollections from the last days of white rule, by Jan Heunis.

Book title: The inner circle
Sub title: Recollections from the last days of white rule
Author: Jan Heunis
Publisher: Jonathan Ball
Cape Town, South Africa 2007
ISBN 978-1-86842-282-1
Softcover, 13x20 cm, 207 pages, several b/w photos

Heunis, Jan im Namibiana-Buchangebot

The inner circle: Recollections from the last days of white rule

The inner circle: Recollections from the last days of white rule

The persepective of the inner circle of governmaental power, recollections from the last days of white rule in South Africa.

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