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Writer's pictureCathie Rooyen

Half a century

Half a century.

Fifty years.

A lifetime.


For some, it was less than a lifetime. For others it made the world of difference in their lifetime. Some lifetimes ended within that time frame. Others are just beginning.

I'm not talking about my mum and dad's wedding anniversary, sadly they only got to 34 years. But I talking about this union that brought me (and my siblings) to the bottom part of Africa, half a century ago today.


Unlike the weather today, on landing at the then-Jan Smuts Airport, was a shock to this wee bairn. I had never felt the ground as hot as that sizzling tarmac.


I remember snippets of things being 5 at the time, and I remember being completely dazzled by the brightness of the air. My mum-made winter kilt, albeit smart, was totally the wrong outfit for the Southern Hemisphere summer. But how was Mum to know? All they got told was 'come to sunny South Africa' and dad was guaranteed a job for three or four years. A guarantee that the rapidly declining Glasgow could no longer offer this clan.




Pre internet, pre smart phone, heck it was even pre TV due to the constrictive government's rules. Little did we know of what was really going on in the country, but the job dangled in front of my folks like a carrot.

Mum loved it immediately. The heat, the space, the dry laundry, the company house, the fruit trees, the wheeze-free fifth child (after weekly hospital chest thumps in the damp city).

Dad pined for 'hame', his Guiness, football, his mum and possibly public transport. He suddenly had to learn to drive at the age of 37 with his family of 8 sitting behind him.



My 5 year old self was fascinated by the ants, the sounds of crickets at night, the massive swimming pool a few blocks away.

When my little sister arrived, our three bedroom house was rather tight for the 9 of us, and we moved a street closer to the swimming pool. This house had a separate dining room which became the forth bedroom. Sleeping arrangements modified, we settled down to life in Africa.


A life I continue to marvel at.

The next half beckons...

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