Destiny's Children
10 Years After The End Of Apartheid
The government is trying to bridge these two worlds: the rich, western world previously reserved for whites and the traditional, poor world where the vast majority of blacks remain trapped. It has made dramatic progress delivering basic services to the previously deprived black community. Since 1996, the government has provided running water to more than 1.7 million homes and hooked up almost 2 million homes to electricity. In 1996, only 60 percent of households had access to clean water, and only a third had electricity. Now, 85 percent have clean water, and more than two thirds of homes have electricity. The government has also built and given away free to the destitute some 1.3 million homes since the end of apartheid. Still, millions more blacks live in sprawling, filthy shantytowns. Inequality, in this country of extremes, continues to increase. The poverty rate for blacks is more than 60 percent; for whites it's about 4 percent.
Some argue that all the government efforts have served to enrich a small group of black elite--many of them, ironically, the former leaders of the communist-backed liberation movement--leaving the majority of blacks poorer. One of the frustrations of the new South Africa is that although the government has liberalized the economy, controlled inflation, and removed barriers to international trade, the foreign investment needed to jump-start the economy and create jobs has just not materialized. And the government faces the enormous challenges posed by crime, AIDS, and skills shortages.
People like Nzima, who have come into adulthood in the past decade, are acutely aware of the challenges that remain. Their materialism is not without conscience. They dream of mansions and fast cars but also of community centers and clinics for those left behind. "A lot of people died for us so that I can have better opportunities," says Nzima. To make sure many more follow in her footsteps Nzima has a plan. "Now, it's all about money, baby," she says with a smile. "I want to build a youth center and a school back in my village. You need money to do anything. It is the key."
Afrikaner Angst
Karen Zoid, belting out her lyrics rock-chick style, stomps across the stage, smashing guitars and setting things alight to the cheers of her audience. Her music and her antics tap into the angst that afflicts South Africa's former golden children, the young Afrikaners. Members of what some now call the Zoid generation--Afrikaners now in their 20s--were born into a world that promised them a good job, a decent education, and pride by virtue of their white skin. No more. The end of apartheid swept away white privilege and with it the Zoid generation's halcyon future. "We're afraid," says Zoid in an interview before her show, rhinestones glittering on her jeans. ". . . What will happen to us?"
Young Afrikaners are struggling with that question. They feel confused and alienated, uncertain about whether there is a place for themselves and hope for their future in this unfamiliar landscape of freedom and equality. In the new South Africa, where affirmative action ensures blacks space at the top universities and black economic empowerment gives black-owned businesses preference for government contracts, whites now compete not only for jobs but also for handouts at traffic lights. The majority of university graduates, the majority of high ranking government positions, and the most coveted new recruits in private businesses are now black. The number of whites employed by the civil service has dropped by half since 1994. Blacks' disposable income is now growing at almost twice the rate of whites'. By 2005, economists estimate, whites will no longer control a majority of the nation's income.
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