This pathetic image spoke volumes as I imagined his plight as his twilight years were drawing to an end. I drew closer and could just make out some features which were not obscured by his hands. His dry parchment like skin was dull and lay in loose folds around his neck and limbs. Where his bones protruded through the skin it became taught and smooth which seemed to shine whitely in the harsh midday sun. His tired and emaciated arms belied their strength no doubt due to a life of toil and drudgery.
His clothes, though old and ill-fitting were neat and his faded threadbare white shirt was proudly tucked into his baggy trousers. His shoes were as worn out as their owner threatening to fall apart before the day was through.
I wondered about his life. Had it been all hard work and drudgery, or had it been interspersed with more than a few happy memories? Life as a disenfranchised black person in the ‘Old South Africa’ was fraught with problems and suffering and here he was, too old to reap the benefits of the more inclusive and democratic government. Instead he was probably forgotten in a city with people too busy to care. What had happened to the old fashioned values where age determined great status, respect and security? Just as his long line of ancestors had done for centuries, he too should have been enjoying his last years with a loving and supportive family.
Instead, he was caught up between the old traditions and the new westernised ways, just another tragic victim of colonisation.
What was he feeling? What was he thinking? Was he in pain, hungry, sick, alone or homeless? What was he waiting for. Was he wishing for death as an escape from his miseries? I imagined his body being unceremoniously dumped into some nameless grave. I couldn’t bear thinking about it any longer.
I felt helpless and the coward in me wished to flee before I had to endure the sight of his poor face. Depressed, I moved away and wondered as life continued to pass him by whether anyone would notice if he were to die on that street curb. Would they even care?