I'm glad I visited the Voortrekker Monument

“Well, this is what is at the heart of European and African conflict in our society today,” says the guide, Thuli K, who is in charge of a historical tour.

We are at the Voortrekker Monument in Pretoria. Richard P and I have undertaken this strange journey together to get closer to the soul of Afrikanerdom.

We are standing before the panel depicting the Battle of Blood River where Zulus and Afrikaners are engaged in fierce battle over the land and its resources.

When I look around, Thuli K and I are the only Africans in this huge monument that houses Afrikaner history to tell the story of The Great Trek.

Looking around, there is an African security guard at the entrance who sells booklets on the history of the place. A few metres away is a group of Afrikaners who are here for the same reason: soul-searching history lesson, for enlightenment.

Some sneak surreptitious glances at our group. No one makes eye contact except to pretend that we do not exist. I feel that Richard P and I, with our African guide, Thuli K, make an interesting threesome.

He is a German, a descendant of Hitler who hates his own history and what it represents. Thuli K and I are modern Africans who would like to believe we reflect Nelson Mandela’s spirit of reconciliation and forgiveness.

“Why does your government allow this monstrous monument to exist? In Germany this would not be allowed,” Richard P says. “It is like building a monument to honour Hitler and his crimes against humanity.”

I am quite for a few moments and hope Thuli K will respond. When she blinks away tears from her eyes and does not answer I step in. “This is part of our history. Nothing can change it and we have to learn to live with the hard facts. It happened,” I say.

“So you like this glorification of Afrikaners brutality that brought so much pain, division, hatred and anguish to you African people?” Richard P charges.

I am surprised at how he can make such an accusation.

Of course, The Great Trek was part of a trail of African land dispossession and efforts to monopolise its resources and wealth by people of European descent.

Nobody can change that. After all, history is dead and we all have to forgive without forgetting.

“It is such monuments that teach us about where we come from as a people. This knowledge, this institution exists to remind us what we went through. We have to learn to live together as brothers and sisters,” I shoot back.

“Well, good luck with your reconciliation. What I know is that in Germany nobody would allow monuments glorifying Nazis to exist,” Richard P insists.

I shrug my shoulders and turn my eyes to Thuli K to say something. Of course, she is not enjoying this.

She had earlier lamented about the one-sidedness of The Great Trek story and how it does not reflect the whole history of what happened. She mentioned that Africans are only depicted as savages who attacked Afrikaners for no reason.

“But Inkosi u-Dingane had wanted to protect the land of his ancestors from invaders,” Thuli K said.

Also, she said nothing had been done by the Afrikaner community to transform the monument into a symbol of inter-racial unity and reconciliation. Instead, she said Afrikaners continue to use it as a rallying point in their fight to retain land ownership and to keep Africans oppressed and exploited on their farms and the rest of the country.

“Today, South Africa is the most unequal society on earth because of the Afrikaners and what they have done,” Thuli K says.

But by now I am getting tired of these politics.

For me, the notion of coming to the Voortrekker Monument was mostly about bringing Richard P to reconnect with European history in Africa. Otherwise I would not have been here. In fact, for decades, I was not allowed to enter this sacred space because of the colour of my skin.

It was my first journey to the Voortrekker Monument and, to this day, I am not aware of any other African I know who has been here before. Ironic as it may be, I find it liberating for an African to visit this monument to understand where they come from and how their history and heritage is depicted through Afrikaner perspectives.

Perhaps that will awaken something in them to tell their own story just like the Afrikaners.

Much as I have always wanted to come to the monument, I never thought that I would visit in the company of a guilt-ridden European who loathes what his ancestors did to this country and its people.

“Can we leave, now?” It was Richard P speaking and looking at Thuli K and me.

“I have had enough of this tragedy. What is your government going to do about this?”

After the obligatory blah-blah about the Constitution, freedom of expression, history and art, I cut to the chase: “What do you want my government to do? We cannot drive the European descendants of the Voortrekkers into the sea. We have to live together as brothers or perish as fools.”

“That is very interesting and commendable. You Africans are wonderful people. Can we go, now, please?” Richard P growls.

This is fascinating. I find it absolutely fascinating. I am surprised that this European, particularly, holds such strong opposition to the paths pursued by his ancestors in this part of the world.

This Voortrekker Monument is a tribute to European travel in Africa.

Everything that has happened in South Africa and the rest of the continent is a direct result of European civilisation and exploration. If Richard P cannot deal with it, it is his problem.

I am glad I visited the Voortrekker Monument.

I think more Africans will understand something about how they ended up without the land and its wealth when they come here.

“Let us get out of here, now,” Richard P is agitated.

“Okay, let us leave,” Thuli K says and smiles.

“I will be back,” I say to no one in particular.

“I am glad I will not be with you,” Richard P says.

Then I recommended that we go to The Dros in Midrand, a very good Afrikaner restaurant that serves some of the best food in town.

It will be our last meal together for Richard P is flying back to Germany.

He has invited me to visit there, sometime. He wants to take me to the Auschwitz concentration camp and … er, Hitler’s grave.

But the man is not dead. Or is he?