This is a story of a 29 years old who was born in the days of Die Groot Krokodil, when he was 8 he saw his fathers tears for the first time(nobody had died) daddy looked into his eyes and said "you will grow up in a country different from the one i lived in".The boy didn't understand.when he was 12 his father forced him to come with,they stood on a 500 meters queue in scorching april hammanskraal heat,it was not his idea of fun.his father went into a classroom when he came out the boy thought he saw his father at his most content,daddy sighed and patted him on his back and said "you can have your country now young man".The boy went on with live confined in his township and all its glory.at 15 he for the first time went to town with an open eye,no longer distracted by high-rise buildings,many cars and the thrill of being bought something new.all the people sitting at restaurants were white and all those serving them were black,he went home angry.He asked his father why it was like that,daddy told him the story of apartheid and assured him that things will change.



Between puberty,adolescence and constant pursuit for street credibility he indulged in literature(thanks to daddy's collection of readers digest).His love for literature led him to understand and loathe those who lacked melanin.he joined a popular party,finished school and the economics of his backround didn't allow him to further his studies,still he was taught that that is not an excuse for failure.He found his first job and the atmosphere at the workplace resembled that of daddy's apartheid narrations,he hated those without melanin more.found a second job and more hatred brewed.



His life was synonymous with that of his country.He grew up with this democracy,from RDP to the growth plan,the rugby world cup to 2010,Rainbow nation to the Reitz four and Steve Hofmeyer,arms deal to the bread cartel.he read all the election slogans from a Better life for all to together we can build better communities.he read many books from Long walk to freedom,Beyond the engeli mountain,the battle for the soul of the ANC,After the party and Finish and klaar.they sparked all sorts of emotions from anger to understanding,pride to disgust.he witnessed the beautiful rise of the black middle class who can now sit at restaurants and counted himself lucky to be affording such,the rise of the black diamonds,the ugly economic grasp of our white community,the greed of our politicians,the moral decay and corruption endorsement by Africa's grandest revolutionary movement at Polokwane.He found inspiration in its people from Nkosi Johnson,Neil Tovey,Joel Netshitenzhe,Pius Langa and many more.He loves his history,he loves the ANC but realizes that this is not the same party his father voted for in 1994.



He is now 29,earning a living wage,a father to a 2 years old who his father say he is everything like him in 1984,He looks at his son and remembers his days through history with his father.He decide that for the first time in 5 elections he is not voting for the ANC but the DA.not to please the DA,not to give power to the whites but for the future of this country,for his son,for the ANC to change attitudes,for the next 40 years of his life.NO something in him disagrees "you cant vote for them.

He is in turmoil should he vote for history or the future,but is DA the future?