My maternal grandfather, George Carr, was a member of the ANC and did hard labour for actions he and his fellow members undertook in the 40s and 50s. This piece of writing is my tribute to him. It is part of a fictionalised biography I plan to publish when I’ve completed much research. Me, Oupa Carr, my cousin Sean “James, why does mother refuse to have Ramona as the cook?” The brothers, in their new bedroom, were unpacking the box containing the few precious items their mother had allowed them to take from the Cape. James, by the large picture window, eyes focused on the movement of the other boxes making their way into the house turned to 4 year old George. “Mother is of the Zulu people while Ramona is Basotho.” “But what does that mean?” Moving over to a recently unpacked stack of books, James began leafing through a hefty atlas. He sat, cross legged on the bare boards and placed the book before him. Without invitation George joined him. James’ po...
I write therefore I am