Hate Speech

(This incident occurred at the end of September 2018.)

There was fine spring weather in Pearly Beach over the weekend. Around midday on Saturday we decided to drive to the Gulley and take the footpath along the coast to the Resort, hoping to see a good display of wild flowers. We weren’t disappointed. In fact, this is one of the best seasons in a long while, possibly on account of good rain just at the right time.

It would have been an entirely enjoyable experience had it not been marred by an unfortunate encounter.

Our dog was ahead of us and came face to face with a man who stopped dead in his tracks. The dog barked once, he moved off the path towards the sea and the dog lost interest. We continued on our way but the man began to shout, “P**shond! F**ken p**shond!” He called out to me, “Madala, ek gaan jou f**ken p**shond in sy gat steek”

We moved on but he climbed back on the path to confront me. He appeared extremely angry and, speaking in Afrikaans, demanded to know why I didn’t control my dog. I said that the dog wouldn’t harm him. This seemed to infuriate him even more, and he told me not to talk rubbish and said that the days of Apartheid were over. I thought he might be about to produce a knife and attack me but he turned and began to move away, saying with vicious contempt, “F**ken boer!”

The incident put a dampener on an otherwise pleasurable outing. When we got home I consulted my copy of the Drug Enforcement Handbook issued by the Institute of Security Studies and concluded that the man must have been under the influence of a tik induced high. I had been lucky to get  away with just verbal abuse.

It would be easy to dismiss the man’s anger and aggression as purely the result of a methamphetamine habit, but on reflection I have realised this is too facile a reaction. Maybe he was justified in resenting being forced off the path by some old white man’s dog. Tik gave him the courage to express his indignation in strong terms and demand a change of attitude on my part. Accordingly I have resolved to modify my behaviour by having the dog on a leash at all times and by keeping well out of the path of oncoming tikheads.

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Giant African Land Snail

**FAKE NEWS**

The snail (Achatina fulica) originates in East Africa and only began to appear in the Western Cape about 15 years ago. This snail species has become a significant pest around the world. Internationally, it is the most frequently occurring invasive species of snail.

Outside of its native range, this snail thrives in many types of habitat in areas with mild climates. It feeds voraciously and is a vector for plant pathogens, causing severe damage to agricultural crops and native plants. It competes with native snail taxa, is a nuisance pest of urban areas, and spreads human disease. This snail is listed as one of the top 100 invasive species in the world.

An increase in physical size of the snail was first observed in the Southern Cape in 2017 and the mutation of growth genes was confirmed by zoologists from the University of Stellenbosch at the end of 2018. The team of scientists led by Dr Hans Gastrow established that the snail was increasing in body mass by 5 percent every three generations. In November 2019 it was announced that the gastropod’s feeding habits had changed from herbivorous to omnivorous. Dr Gastrow has warned that the mutant form of Achatina fulica poses a serious threat to plant and animal life in the coastal zone between Gansbaai and Die Dam, and its eradication should be seen as a matter of extreme urgency.

My Arrival

Bang in the middle of the century, on the stroke of midnight, as the moon rose above the African bush, my mother shrieked in agonized panic, raised her knees and parted her thighs, and began to expel me from her womb. I had been perfectly content where I was and would have preferred to remain there, but the rules and regulations governing obstetric procedure decreed otherwise. On entering the world I opened my eyes and gasped in horror. For a brief instant my life lay before me, and in that instant I understood the impossibility of ever going back. I let out an anguished bellow of rage. And just to confirm that the clock was already ticking, Mrs Hildagonda De Groot, housekeeper cum midwife, slapped my face, held me up by my ankles, shook me, and then hacked through my umbilical cord with a meat cleaver.

(Adapted from The Life of Henry Fuckit.)

To view my longer work as an author, including The Life of Henry Fuckit, you can find me on Smashwords here.