Springbok Radio
The white man was excitedly explaining to him about the radio. The white man picked him up where he was hiking on the R102 about ten minutes ago. He chose to get a lift in this car, because, although it was an old model it was well looked after and exactly what he was looking for. Even on the inside the car was very well preserved with the rich leather smell that all old cars have. The strange thing was that this white man had a old fashioned portable radio that was on the back seat that he was listening to. There was a space in front on the dashboard for an on-board radio, but this guy was listening to a radio on the backseat. “…and that is what so fantastic. I bought the radio from him and took it home. It wasn’t too hard to find the right battery for it, because they still sell it in all the shops. Then when I switched it on, there was Springbok radio. I couldn’t believe my ears. Maybe you people also listened to Springbok radio…but whatever the case may be, when I was young I listened to it all the time. There was no television in those years, you know.” He can remember Springbok radio. IN the afternoons, after school, he used to go to the house of the white people where his mother was working to wait on her so that they could take the bus home together. He could hear the radio on loudly somewhere in the house where he was not allowed to go, because he had to stay in the kitchen and the walled in backyard. “Man, this is so fantastic, Springbok radio has been off the air for how many years, but this radio can still get it. I don’t know how it is possible. And another thing, this isn’t like a rebroadcast or anything like that, this is genuine radio that is contemporary. A lot of the old broadcasters are still there, but a lot of new ones have joined. You can hear it is contemporary by listening to the news and the advertisements which is totally modern…but the program schedule is basically the same as then.” As he drives the huge car expertly over the road, the white man looks excitedly at him. “How wonderful is that. I did some research and Springbok radio is not on air. Well at least not officially, because this has to come from somewhere. He was starting to get irritated with this white man, and in any case, they were now very near to his pick up point where the others would be waiting on him. With one deft movement he takes his gun out and presses it against the white man’s neck. “Turn off here in front,” he says in his hijacker’s voice. “Man, I’ve been trying to help you. Have you Blacks got no decency?” This makes him very angry, although he knows it is the truth. He will personally kill the white man once they reach the squatter camp. He will kill him slowly and horribly for disrespecting him as a proud black man. His hand moves down to unhook the seat belt, which suddenly feels a bit tight on him. That was the first thing the White told him to put on when he got into the car. The belt gets tighter and he moves his gun hand down to help the other hand to unhook the belt from its clip. But this makes the belt go even more tighter. It feels like it has a life of its own because the tightening gets quicker. As his veins start to swell up he feels the gun fall out of his hand. He sees the white man looking down at him with a smiling face. “Ja, my vriend, so vang ons julle.” The belt drives all air out of him as it grows tighter and tighter. Before he blacks out he hears the last words from the white man’s mouth. “You see the guy who sold me the radio, also sold me this car. Like I always say, don’t trust stuff you buy from a guy in a spooky little shop that is not there the next day...ha ha...ha ha...” |
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