Who is Gerrit?

Gerrit (55) comes from a military background. As a young boy, his father (also ‘n military man) shaped him into becoming a soldier. Tigers don’t cry and love is but a four-letter word. Rising to the rank of captain, he was one of the last members of the old South African Army to have seen the horrors of the Bush War on the Angolan border. With the new 1994 dispensation, he found himself on civvy street in a world he did not understand and nor did the world understand him. He never found love, although so desperately longing for it. He is constantly running away from something to somewhere, thus finding himself in the Soutpansberg. Maybe here he can find peace.

Some scars can take a lifetime to heal

By Ndivho Mukoma

Gerrit’s turn to talk, to tell his story about his scar, had come at last. He sat quietly, staring out before him, remembering…

“The sky had changed from a pink-purple hue to a frightening and ferocious pitch black, almost like it is tonight, but instead of a choir of insects, there were screams. Amidst the frantic screams of men, women, and children, I heard her screams more clearly.” 

Gerrit had an anguished look in his eyes.

“Please don’t hate me for what I am about to tell you. I have kept this to myself for so long, and I swore I would take it to my grave, but it weighs on me every day. I’ve tried to hide these memories, but they keep on haunting me, and now look at me! I am nothing but a shell of who I used to be. My scar is not physical, no. It’s a scar no-one can see and only I can feel. 

“This is a love story gone wrong. Like Romeo and Juliet; only this time, Romeo does not die,” he began, clearly steeling himself for what was to come.

“I was just 22 years old when I was forced to enlist to fight in the Apartheid war, or National Service as they called it. I resented every moment of it, constantly being called out because I couldn’t stand the conditions those we oppressed were submitted to. I got into trouble far too many times for being ‘too kind’ and merciful, or for showing compassion. There was simply no reason for me to hate people of other races. So, I didn’t understand their culture and way of living, but at no point did I feel even the slightest hint of hate,” he said, a mix of emotions on his face.

“We were stationed in Thembisa, on the East Rand, and we had to patrol the townships. Most days we would just walk around, watching people go about their everyday lives. But when the unrest flared up, the same peaceful neighbourhoods would become killing fields. I always liked people and enjoyed making conversation with the locals. I tried to convince myself that I was there to protect everyone from danger, fighting a ‘good war’ to maintain peace and stability, to defend law and order.” Gerrit shook his head, as if unable to believe that he had ever been that foolish.

“To be quite frank, my very first and only true love was a woman of dark complexion. The first time I saw her, I was star-struck. She was a sight for sore eyes. Her soft, radiant skin glistened in the sunlight and became like a blue pearl at night. Her voice was so sweet. I was certain she must be an angel, the way her feet hardly seemed to be touching the ground and how the sand would dance at her footstep. All that I had been taught about black women was a lie. There was no ‘ugliness’ or ‘evil’ about her. Her beauty was captivating and, as absurd as it may sound, I was determined to marry her.” Now he looked a bit embarrassed, as if the notion was still unreal. 

“I was like a sailor on a voyage across rough seas, seeking a treasure. I was hungry. Hungry for more than just her heavenly body pressing against mine. I was hungry for the rhythm in her soul; for the humour in her heart and the love that radiated from her like a halo. I knew that what I wanted wasn’t possible. It was taboo, but I didn’t care! In my mind, I married her. I began to pester her, day and night, trying to get her to notice me, and soon enough she did. I decided to go for it!

“‘Gerrit is my name, and yours?’ I introduced myself on the fateful day we finally met face to face, alone. 

“‘Azwindini,’ she replied, her chin proudly pressed outwards. 

“‘Aswi ... Azwi ... Would you mind if I call you Azwi?’ I asked her. 

“‘Not at all, Gerrit’, she said, and our fates were sealed from that moment on. Together, we found ourselves lost in the cornfields, and lost in each other. My love for her grew from a hunger to a passionate, burning desire. I wanted more and more of her, and before long, people started to notice the affection between us. We didn’t try to conceal it, not waiting for the sun to set. There was no shame in what we felt for each other. To add fuel to the fire, I would fight whoever refused to call her anything other than Mrs van Wyk. After all, she was my wife. In my heart, at least.” The earlier, determined look returned to his face.

“The rumours spread like wildfire, and soon enough I found myself being reprimanded by my parents for what they called my ‘despicable’ actions. But it seemed that the more they opposed our love, the stronger it grew. Even when they disowned me and asked me not to contact them anymore, I was a happy man, for happiness isn’t a product of earthly riches, but rather what one owns within. They could never take away my happiness … or so I thought.”

A long, poignant silence followed his words.

“My period of national service was almost finished, and I longed for the day when I would get rid of my ‘browns’ and hand in my rifle. Whenever I was needed, I did my patrols, but every free moment I spent with Azwi.” A goofy smile lit up his face, then seemed to freeze. He swallowed, then continued…

“I was enjoying a couple of beers with a friend one night when the sky suddenly changed from a pink-purple hue to a frightening and ferocious pitch black … I looked out the window of our bungalow at the camp and saw smoke billowing from the adjacent township. My friend played it down, but I felt an inexplicable unease creeping into my bones, so I headed out the door. The smoke was coming from the township, where my Azwi lived...” His eyes grew wider, and his breathing quickened. Tears gathered in his eyes.

“As I raced through the streets, my blood ran cold; I nearly lost it. I ran blindly, as fast as I could and not caring who or what was in front of me. But despite my efforts...” Gerrit nearly choked on the words. He shook his head repeatedly, the tears making rivulets on his cheeks before dropping onto his hands, clenched into fists.

“I heard her screaming: ‘Wag! Moenie my verbrand nie! Wag! Gerrit, help my!’ A burning tyre hung around her neck, the light illuminating her beautiful face one last time before it literally started melting away into nothingness…

“Time seemed to freeze in that moment. My body as well; I could not move. My heartbeat lost its rhythm, and my mind went blank. I noticed the riot vehicles arriving, and I smelled the teargas fired to disperse the crowd, but all that meant nothing. The one I loved was dead…!” A calmness seemed to descend on him despite the resignation in his eyes and voice.

“In the years that followed, alcohol and drugs became great companions, but the guilt kept on feeding on my soul and my peace of mind. Even now, she is like an open wound that will not heal, and I am the scar that cannot close.”

Gerrit broke his gaze from the campfire in front of him, and it seemed to his travel companions that the fire inside him had been extinguished. Then he exhaled a long, shaky sigh, as if a great burden had finally been lifted from his shoulders.

He sat back, clearly having finished what he meant to tell them.

 

Meet the adventurers:


 

Our narrator

Marelize (27) is the narrator of the story. She is a seasoned traveller and has visited countries in Europe and the USA.
Click here to read her story

Rovha is a soft-spoken dentist with smiling eyes. He is a loner and can often be found in a quiet corner reading a book or newspaper.

Click here to read his story.

Gerard is a Dutch adventure tourist. At 66 he has retired from the university he has been teaching at. He now spends his time travelling.

Click here to read his story.

Zachary (39) is a geologist. His insatiable thirst for adventure has taken him on many dangerous trails and earned him the title of Bear Grylls.

Click here to read his story

Lee (28) has never let her neurological disorder become a disablity. Although physically strong, she has a emotional scar she hides well.

Click here to read her story

Emma is a 37-year-old award-winning journalist who is currently working for a local newspaper but aspires to be a war photographer.

Click here to read her story

Shabnim's small stature may be deceiving but at age 42, she is a tough adventurer and a well-respected lecturer at a local university.

Click here to read her story

Adrian is a boisterous character who enjoys controlling the conversation. He usually leads the pack and shares his expertise freely.

Click here to read his story

With a military background, Gerrit (55) was a captain in the old South African Army. He has seen the horrors of war and still runs from it.

Click here to read his story

For the vibrant and energetic 25-year-old Takalani (Taki) nursing has always been
her calling. She is loved by all her colleagues and patients.
 

Click here to read her story

Lisa (53) is the mother of two grown daughters and the wife of a wealthy CEO who travels a lot. Lisa has taken up hiking to fill her days.

Click here to read her story