As a child and young person, I often observed my parents, teachers and other adults around me and wished that I, like them, had all the answers to all the questions. Whenever I had a question, I was sure to find an answer from one of them. They knew so clearly what was good and what was bad; what was right and what was wrong; what was accepted and what was not, etc, etc, etc.
Then as I grew up, married and had children of my own, I started suspecting that they never truly had all the answers. Now, I was the parent, the teacher and the other adult around the children and young persons and they looked up to me to answer their never ending string of questions… and yes, you’ve guessed it, I did not always have the answer, but somehow I always managed to give them some answer.
Now, as a fifty-something person, I know, with undeniable certainty, that I do not have all the answers, because you see, suddenly the questions have changed. The good has become bad, the right has become wrong and the acceptable has become unacceptable. Let me explain. (Maybe this only has relevance if you live in good old ZA, but somehow I think it is more widespread.)
Then, it was good to belong to a church and attend meetings regularly. Now, if you do that, your intelligence is questioned, as you believe in fairy tales. God is put on a par with Father Christmas and the tooth fairy.
Then, you fell in love, got married and started a family. Now, you start a family, maybe get married and usually end up in the divorce courts (that is if you went to the trouble of getting married at all).
Then, to be elected as a member of parliament, the politician had to have a degree and many years of experience in his selected field and politics. Now all you need is Grade 5, a number of years in a revolutionary organisation and preferably a few years in prison.
Then, you worked hard, putting in extra time and effort, in a bid to be noticed and advanced in your career. Now you arrive at work, stay for at least two hours and let the union, Affirmative Action and BEE (Black Economic Empowerment) do the rest.
Then, you worked your ass off in Grade 11 and 12 to obtain marks that would ensure you a place at university. Now, you pass with whatever marks, mob the university of your choice on registration day, without a single cent in your pocket, and demand entry… and obtain entry, no matter that three years later you are still repeating courses from your first year.
So I can go on and on and on, but I will not bore you any further with the culture of mediocrity that has become part of everyday life in my country. I merely wish to explain how I have become this completely confused fifty-something-year-old who no longer has any answer to any question that needs an answer.
PS: Actually, my state of confusion is confirmed by the fact that I posted the above dribble as my first post in so many months. I know I should be posting about much more important and relevant subjects and with any luck the cloud of confusion aroung my head and life will lift soon and I will write a post that makes sense.