“Claaaaaaremont-Wynburg” echoes through the morning mist, in a humorous trans-like bellow.
The colour of your skin matters, but doesn’t but does. It changes, like the shades of the Western Cape sun, and it changes under the Moon of Good Hope.
The music brings us together, the hangovers separate us.
The weather brings us together; how we survive, or enjoy it separates us.
Our fears bring us together; and our fears separate us.
And that is the story of South Africa, the Yo-Yo nation.
