Like Father, Like Son: Paternal Relationships in Soweto
Over the past two years, I have had the honor of traveling to Soweto, South Africa through a program organized by my former high school, Bellarmine College Preparatory. During these trips, I became close friends with a young man named Roy, a resident of Soweto and a student at St. Martin de Porres School, where I have been staying while in Soweto this summer. Through these trips and through consistent messaging on Facebook and WhatsApp, Roy and I had become very close friends, and now that I am back in Soweto for 6 weeks, we have been able to deepen our friendship.
As a part of deepening this friendship, Roy invited me to visit his home this past week to celebrate his 20th birthday. Roy specifically uses the word “home” and not “house” because his family of 5 lives in the storage room of a house in Soweto, roughly the size of my freshman dorm room in Village C West at Georgetown. Roy had always told me how living conditions made his studies difficult, especially as he began his first semester at the University of Johannesburg. He said many of the people who live around him make it difficult to focus on education, as they often succumb to unhealthy habits and bad influences. Upon visiting his home, that struggle became very real.
At Roy’s home, there are six families living in different parts of the house. The house itself only has 2 bedrooms, and the rest of its inside have been converted into family “rooms.” In the backyard, two shacks slant against each other and hold two more families. As the cool Soweto breeze blew during a frigid winter afternoon, the shacks rattled like the treble of a djembe drum.
Upon arriving at Roy’s home, I was surprised by a warm hug from Roy’s father, Mr. Mahlangu. As a security guard in a distant mine, Mr. Mahlangu is only home 4-5 days per month, and Roy did not know that he would be arriving for his birthday. After endless hugs, sawubonas, and crisp Soweto handshakes, I sat down with Roy and his dad to record a conversation in celebration of his 20th birthday.
After taking a long stare at his son and drawing tears in admiration of 20 years full of memories, Mr. Mahlangu said, “Looking back 20 years, to bring up a son, it’s not an easy thing. That’s why I am proud to be a father. Things that come, they do not always come easy. You must work hard. Here in South Africa, things have never been easy.”
In response, Roy gave his dad a quick handshake and went on to tell a story about his dad. Roy said, “I remember – as you guys know, I’m good at running. When I was young, I used to watch my dad run and everything. I think he inspired me in such a way. As a father to me, I wanted to be like him. When I used to come across his friends, they used to tell me that he was the best runner, so I wanted to be like him. I think I did make that dream come true.” Roy said he will never forget these moments and cherishes the role his father has played each day he is home. “When he goes jogging, sometimes I go with him. It’s a great thing to have because not a lot of people here in Soweto have fathers. A lot of people have single parents. I really appreciate him being here.”
While Roy recognized the beauty of their relationship in his growth as a man, he also pointed out that things were not always easy. “Well there was this time where he lost his job. That was the hardest time. He always said – and he’s still telling me – that whatever happens, you can do whatever you think…whatever you think about or dream about. When he lost his job, we were out of money for like maybe three years. But after three years, he kept looking for a job. For me, that’s very inspiring. He did everything in his power to get a job.” While the darkness of the room hid the sight of tears, I could hear the emotion of Mr. Mahlangu speak volumes of appreciation and love for his son. As a close friend of Roy, a small storage room tucked away in the corner of a house in Soweto became a memorable pantry of kinship.
As the night went on, stories of friendship filled the room with energy and light. Mr. Mahlangu concluded the night by saying, “You never know what life is…you can break anything…I’m glad you have come back to South Africa. You can learn a lot. If you travel, you can see how people live and learn about them. Then you can say, ‘There’s no difference, us whites and blacks.’ It’s just because of the mindset of the people that has divided us…but we are all the same.” As I prepared to head out, he offered one last piece of advice. “When you get home, even when you talk to your friends and family. Tell them something that you learned from Roy’s father. It is something that you can tell. Even when there’s difficulty…when I lost the job, there was difficulty in life. Some people tend to say they are nothing, but when you push through it, there is nothing that can change your mind. Money is nothing. The power is in your mind.” After a final goodbye, Roy reminded me, “It’s not about what you have or what you can do over another, it’s about being human. It’s about bringing people together. Embrace the love.”
Roy and his father taught me that physical and psychological distance from the issues of our world make it easier for one to ignore them. This is why I believe in the power of stories. I hope that listening to another person’s story helps us move beyond our own prejudice and begin building a more just world, however small that beginning may be. As left Roy’s home that afternoon, I was reminded how the closeness of kinship provides all the warmth ever necessary against any cold Soweto breeze.