O1B2F6E. OUR FAMILY 1989

MOMENTS IN OUR LIFE-1 2026-03-19

O1B2F6E. OUR FAMILY 1989

This is a special and moving chapter of our life story. It is written with such honesty about the complexity of family dynamics. From the nostalgic image of silkworms in a shoebox, which forms a beautiful contrast with the emotional "storms" that follow later in the narrative - to the painful reality of friendships that are broken and the challenges of children's rebelliousness.

The story of Carine and Francois is a powerful example of how friendships are tested by moral choices. Our decision to stand by Carine shows the value we attach to loyalty.

The friction between me and Rinie over Heine and Tania, as well as the sadness about my "absence" due to hard work, are themes that many fathers can relate to. This gives the text a deeply human and honest tone.

The incident with the stone-throwing and the bouncer is dramatic, but my admiration for Christiaan’s ability to stand up for his friends (despite his mistakes) shows a father’s compassion.

An important moment in the story is when I, as a father, stood up for my son when he was at his loneliest. When I said to Boonzaaier, “You’re a coward to accuse Christiaan like this while you’re drunk. Why don’t you come here tomorrow morning and say it to my face when you’re sober?” He never showed up. It was important to me that Christiaan knew that, despite his mistakes, I was in his corner when the world turned its back on him.

Christiaan was different from Marinus from a young age - bushy red hair and full of willpower. He sometimes made mistakes, and although he got his share of beatings, I always admired his loyalty to his friends. Even when he charged the bouncer at Club 101 to defend his friend, it showed what steel he is made of. Later in 2000, overseas in Spain, when a Spaniard came to beat me with an aluminium pole, he was immediately at my side. It is a very telling memory, especially because it emphasizes Christiaan’s presence and loyalty. It was also evidence of the tacit protection we offered each other - something that is a nice ongoing theme in my stories.

INTRODUCTION: THE LIFE OF A FAMILY

Writing down the history of a family is like putting together a puzzle: some pieces are easy to fit together, while others are challenging to sort out. In this part of our family chronicle, I focus on the time around the 80’s and 90’s - a period of settlement, growth, and the everyday dynamics of our family in Kraaifontein, Brackenfell and later Wellington.

These stories are not just a record of dates and places, but an honest look at the things that shaped us: from the simple fascination with silkworms in a shoebox, to the deeper lessons of loyalty and friendship. This is the story of a father who worked hard, a mother who shared her art and compassion, and sons who each had to find their own way in their own unique way.

THE SILKWORMS

1989. Marinus went to Huguenot Primary School in Sub A, while Christiaan was in Standard One. Both boys came home with silkworms at one point. We set up a shoebox with ventilation slits and searched for fresh mulberry leaves daily. When the pupa sits in a corner of the box, it spins itself into a cocoon with silk. After about two weeks, the pupa turns into a white moth, which eats its way through the silk cocoon. The moth then sits on the inside of the box and lays between 300 and 500 eggs against the side of the box. The moths live for about 4 days, do not eat at all and very rarely fly. Then when you open the lid, the moth lies dead at the bottom of the box, its purpose in life achieved, to produce eggs for reproduction. It was fascinating to watch the cycle. About 1,500 cocoons are needed to produce 1 kg of silk - a small miracle of nature.

FRIENDSHIP AND MORAL CHOICES

1989. Rinie went to the first parents' evening. She waited next to Carine van der Merwe for her turn to talk to Christiaan’s class teacher. She and Carine were similar people, and very quickly got on well. That's how we became good friends. At that stage, Carine and her husband, Francois, lived in a large house on the corner of Berg and Claret Streets. We soon started visiting each other. They had a swimming pool, and we had a few barbecues together. I remember once he smoked an elf in his barbecue - it was delicious.

Unfortunately, Francois, who had a good business as a policy broker, allowed his secretary to get a hold on him, and of course this ruined his marriage to Carine. Carine had a very strong personality, and confronted Francois about it straight away, so he moved out of their house.

Because we were on Carine’s side, I had to make the difficult decision to end the friendship with Francois. He was very sorry to lose our friendship, but understood my motives.

His secretary had a grudge against Carine, and this caused many problems, such as cutting up Carine’s clothes in her wardrobe, having a sheep delivered, and making many calls to Carine - then she said nothing, just breathed heavily over the phone. One can imagine how all these things upset Carine. In the end, Carine and Francois were divorced.

Carine went to work for a long time as a boarding mother at a school in Robertson, where she lived with her youngest daughter, Surine. I think Carine had 5 children with Francois - Jaco, Johan, Marí, Francois and Surine. As is probably the case with most divorces, some children sided with Carine, and the others with Francois. Later, Carine got a job at House Wouter Malan in Wellington, a residence of the College of Education, where she lived in an apartment with Surine for a few years.

Carine loved dancing, and went dancing at clubs for single persons for entertainment. There she once danced with Louis Havenga, who had lost his wife to cancer a few years earlier. He quickly fell in love with Carine, who was, as always, a sparkling person. They were soon married, and Carine moved to his large house in Vierlanden, Durbanville, where they lived in an apartment next to the house that Louis had built himself. They lived there for a few years, and we often visited them.

Louis later developed kidney failure due to diabetes, so he had to go to hospital 3 times a week for a 4-hour dialysis to purify his blood. After years of this, he got tired of it, and stopped going. A few days later he was dead.

Before he died, Louis had his son promise that he would take care of Carine. Some time after Louis’s death, however, his son told Carine that she had to find another place to live, because he wanted to use the flat himself. This was of course a huge blow to Carine, and she resisted, but Louis did not put his agreement with his son on paper, so Carine had to move again, this time to a flat in Dandra, on Beach Road, Strand. She loved the sea very much, and walked for kilometres along the sea every day. However, this flat belonged to the Durbanville Dutch Reformed Church, and after a few months they told her to move out. Then she moved to a flat in Villa Bellini, Constantia Street, Strand. We visited her at all these places several times, which just shows how close she and Rinie were to each other.

The story did not have a happy ending. She developed dementia, and was admitted to House Pam Brink, Strand, where she had a room, behind a locked door. As we visited her from time to time, we could see her deteriorating. The sparkling person paid less and less attention to herself, so that her hair eventually hung unwashed - really sad to see. We began to wonder if she would still recognize us on the next visit. When we got there again, reception informed us that she had been transferred to House Esperanza in Donaldson Street, Strand, a home for patients with severe dementia.

They said she would no longer recognize us anymore - she no longer even recognized Marí, her own child. One day Marí called us and said that Carine had passed away. She was probably not yet 75. What a tragic end for someone who was so full of life, and so sparkling. It was a bitter blow to Rinie.

BIG RESPONSIBILITIES

1980. When Rinie was expecting Christiaan, we lived in 22 Denne Street, Kraaifontein, my first house, where I was very happy. I liked the people around us, ordinary people without frills. Rinie came there after our wonderful honeymoon week in Golden Gate, in the Drakensberg.

Tania was 5 years old at that time, and she and Rinie were very close to each other. Heine was 11 years old. He stayed with Heléne, and came to us on weekends. They played with each other, and sometimes they had differences. Tania was a stronger personality than Heine, and were often stubborn. Once there was such an argument in front of me where I was busy in the garden, and Tania was wrong. She ran into the house and complained to Rinie, who then came out and scolded Heine. I backed Heine and told Rinie what had happened. She did not want to believe my interpretation, but rather her child's.

It is certainly understandable that every parent in such circumstances would rather believe his/her own child's story. This caused friction between Rinie and me quite a few times. And the bad result of that is that it also damaged my own relationship with Tania, which lasted for many years. I was never really close to her for that reason, because all my life I have always supported the underdog.

Rinie got involved in some of the women's organizations. During the Women's World Prayer Day she got to know Aunt Ruthie, who was living in the Kraaifontein old age home at the time - she was already in her 80’s.

I got a job at Brackenfell Municipality in 1979, after Johan Pretorius, who lives in Protea Heights, saw the municipality advertising for a programmer. He told me about it. I rode my bicycle from Denne Street via Old Paarl Road to Brackenfell Municipality for a few months. I realized I couldn't keep going like this after a truck narrowly missed me - I felt something touch my windbreaker. We then started looking at Brackenfell houses in the Arauna residential area.

We liked the house at 32 Sonop Street and signed a sales contract. Aunt Ruthie, at her age, came to help us move a few days before Christiaan was born, because Rinie was very far into her third semester. He was born on 20 January 1980 at 16:10, in the Karl Bremer Hospital in Boston, Bellville. I stood by her head, and she was in a lot of pain, because he was a very big baby - 10lb 2oz (4.59kg). Dr. Carstens managed the delivery, and he had to give Rinie 64 stitches afterwards. Rinie’s parents came down by car to help with the first few days.

“YELLOW BOXES”

When Christiaan was still a baby we visited her parents at their farm Uitkyk. Two teacher-travellers arrived one day and peddled a set of “Yellow Boxes”. It was a series of educational toys and books to stimulate children’s minds from baby age. Grandpa warned us not to sign. It was expensive, I think R600 at the time, but we bought it, for our children’s sake. Christiaan was still sleeping in his cot at the time, next to Rinie. I hung cardboard butterflies, birds etc. out of the yellow boxes from the ceiling. The reason being that the moving patterns stimulate the baby’s developing eyes. After Marinus was born in 1982, Christiaan was moved to my side, and Marinus then slept next to Mom. Much later, when they were older, we moved both to the bedroom next to ours.

THE ALTERNATOR CRISIS AND WORK ETHICS

1980. During a period in the eighties there were restrictions on fuel sales hours due to sanctions against South Africa, and all petrol stations closed at six o’clock every afternoon. I think they also closed at one o’clock on Saturday for the weekend. We left the farm late on a Friday afternoon after a holiday at Uitkyk at the end of 1980. Christiaan was not yet a year old, and was lying at Rinie’s feet, wrapped in his blanket.

As I was driving, I saw a faint red light on the Audi’s dashboard. I didn’t know what it meant, and I couldn’t do anything about it anyway. I think we were on our way to Madie’s place in Colesberg, 475km away, to spend the night there. As we drove it started to get dark, and I later noticed the headlights getting dimmer. It was also a dark moon, so I could later hardly see anything. I realised that the battery was getting low, so I turned off the lights so that there was at least power for the spark plugs. I also drove very slowly to save power.

I asked Heine behind me to shine our flashlight out of his window on the white line on the road, so that I could see where I was driving. We were all very stressed, and breathed a sigh of relief when we saw Bloemhof’s street lights - it’s about 70 km away from the farm. I looked for a petrol station, and then parked at one under the awning. We spent the night there, to wait for the garage to open Saturday morning.

Fortunately, there was a mechanic who could fix the alternator. In the meantime, I went to find the magistrate, and explained our problem. He gave me a letter with which we could get petrol after hours. In the end we didn't go to Madie's, but drove straight home.

During 1979 I started working as a programmer at Brackenfell Municipality. I had to develop a completely new computer system for Treasury, and often worked until 9:00pm in the evenings. Looking back, I regret being an "absent father" in those years. I should rather have gone home with the others at five o'clock to spend time with my family, and then go to work early the next morning.

1984. Rinie went to buy sweets at the PnP Hypermarket every week. There was a big, long glass case with a huge variety, more than I have ever seen together, probably well over a hundred kinds. The children looked at everything with such longing eyes, but many were too expensive for us anyway. They had certain favourites, which Rinie would buy to hand out over the weekend. They say if you get too much of a good thing, then it will no longer be special to you.

We had a nice enclosed little backyard on the Engelbrechts' side. There was a braai area, where we braaied on weekends, usually Sundays, with briquettes in a small round stainless steel device on a gas bottle. Again, because it wasn’t something we did a lot, it was special for all of us to braai a little meat, usually a packet of sausage - we liked Grabouw’s spices - and a chop for each, also sometimes a braaibroodjie. Then a pudding that Mom made. She was a good cook and took good care of us.

Vatti was a small white Bull terrier, which I got from someone I collected from when I was a deacon at the NG Church Brackenfell, just above the Hypermarket. The guy bred Bull terriers, and although she wasn’t registered, she was genuine. The children became quite fond of her. At our back door to the kitchen was a cement structure to store braai wood, but I braaied with briquettes, so it was an ideal space for a dog kennel. I made her a bed out of sponge, covered with an old sleeping bag. I closed the front with a cut-out inner tube, with only a slit in the middle that overlapped. The kennel was therefore completely rain and windproof. Vatti quickly learned to go in and out through the slit. She sometimes looked quite comical when she just stuck her white head out to see what was going on outside. We bought her a collar and sometimes went for walks with her, which she really enjoyed, like all dogs do.

I can’t remember how long she stayed with us, then she started walking unsteadily on her legs. Until one day when she wanted to go down the two steps from the kitchen to her kennel. She lost her balance and fell heavily on her back. I realized something was seriously wrong, and we took her to a vet in Kuilsriver. After he examined her, he asked if she had had all her injections. I said no, I didn’t know they were necessary. Then he said she had a brain tumour, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. He asked if he should put her out, to which I could only say yes.

A while later we went to an SPCA branch to look for another puppy for the children. There was a very nice “Basset” type dog, short legs with a longish body, nicely built, reddish brown, who seemed friendly. He seemed quite a good dog, and we wondered how he came to end up at the SPCA. So we took him. For some reason we called him “Sam”.

However, he soon became a headache. When he wanted to go out, he would scratch at the front door. When he had walked around enough, he would come and scratch at the outside of the front door to come in, even chewing on the wooden bars - the door had three panes of glass.

Our dining room had a large window that looked out onto the backyard. There were two small windows - the upper one could open and was always open. Our beautiful ginger cat, Toekels, went in and out of there. I made a wooden platform there for him to jump on if he wanted to get in. The identical lower window couldn’t be opened - it was just a fixed glass pane.

One day both Toekels and Sam were in the backyard. Then Toekels jumped in through his open window. Can you believe it, Sam also tried to jump in through the lower pane and all you could see was shards of glass flying! Sam also developed the bad habit of jumping on top of the back of the living room couch. When I slapped him to get him off, he growled at me and showed his teeth. That was the last straw. We took him back to the SPCA, and told them he belonged on a farm, where he had space.

My nap after lunch is a life habit for me, which I learned from my Dad. I can remember in the principal’s house on Porter Street in Rawsonville, where I slept on my bed in Dad’s bedroom from Sub A. Dad was very fond of “Die Burger” newspaper, which was delivered early in the morning before six o’clock. The house had the old-fashioned wooden sash windows, and the newspaper boy would put the newspaper on the windowsill through the window, which was left slightly open. When Dad would wake up, he could read the latest news.

Goudini High School had two breaks: one short one of about fifteen minutes, and a very long second break of more than an hour. The reason for this was that many of the farm children were bussed in, and they would then participate in sports during the second break. Dad would then come home, eat, lie down on his bed and continue reading his newspaper until he became drowsy. Then he would make his Burger stand like a tent over his head and sleep.

I learned this habit from him. Wherever I worked, I would just sleep on the carpet, with something under my head - at Mobil under my desk; at Stellenbosch on the front seats of my Peugeot 404 station wagon. When I went to Brackenfell Municipality, Sonop Street was exactly a kilometre away, so I would cycle home during lunch breaks, eat with the family, sleep until about 13:45, then cycle back to work.

When we moved to Wellington, the hills were too steep, and I slept on the Ozite carpet in my office on the floor, with that stiff green pillow under my head. My body had long been accustomed to sleeping on the floor. When I went to Paarl, I had the luxury of two soft easy chairs that Ian Kennedy no longer wanted. He replaced them with more luxurious chairs, to impress other people.

When all the heads got a “Golden Handshake” at the end of February 2005, I decided to retire too, two years earlier than my normal retirement age. At home, I continued with my afternoon nap - even to this day, it is my daily pleasure.

Christiaan was a strong-willed child from a young age. We could see from the beginning that he was different from Marinus. He struggled to keep friends from early on, of which I felt very sorry for him.

When he was seven years old in January 1987 he had to go to school. We only had one car, a 5-cylinder VW Passat station wagon, which was a lovely car. Rinie had to have a car, so I decided to leave my bike at home and walk to work with Christiaan. Brackenfell Primary School was in Frans Conradie Drive, just above the Hypermarket, while the Municipality was just a bit further down, next to the Pick ‘n Pay parking area. So Christiaan walked with me, down Sonop Street, then down Paradys Street, to his school, and I just walked on to my work.

Because I have always been coming just in time all my life, we had to let it go at a pace. Some of the people I worked with, who were also on their way to work in their cars, said they could tell by Christiaan’s walk that he was my child - the same posture and swinging of the arms and legs. Shame, he probably had to almost jog to keep up with me.

At that stage, Rinie got a job at the after-school centre of the primary school, where many children stayed until their parents came to pick them up after work. She helped them with their homework and also had to keep an eye on them. Both Christiaan and Marinus were there, and all three of them went home in the Passat, after all the children’s parents had come to fetch them.

I bought a piece of sponge and put it inside a blue sleeping bag, in the back of the Passat. Because there are so many beautiful places in the Western Cape, we often drove out on weekends, and mostly went braaiing. At that time, there were still many places where you could braai, but because people neglected the sites and caused fires, there were later only a few safe places left with braai facilities.

As often happens with children, when Christiaan and Marinus got bored, they started bickering with each other on the back seat. To keep them apart, I told one of them to sit in the back of the boot on the sponge. I think Christiaan later preferred to ride in the back, because he could lie on his back and watch the world go by through the big windows.

WELLINGTON

We moved to Wellington in January 1989. Christiaan played rugby at Huguenot Primary School from Standard One. At that time, two competitions were played across the width of the field at the same time. Because he was big for his age, he scored a few tries when he got the ball - he simply ran through the arms of his opponents until they got smart and got hold of him. With him was a friend, Petrus. Petrus's father walked up and down the field following the game and loudly encouraged Petrus, or scolded him if he did something wrong.

Once Christiaan had the flu, but still played. I can remember how I myself, like Petrus' father, also followed the game to verbally encourage Christiaan. As long as Petrus' father lived at the top of First Avenue, Uitsig, we always referred to him as "Petrus' father". I think he sent Petrus to either Boishaai or Paarl Gymnasium when he had to go to high school.

To earn some extra money, Rinie looked after children at the Huguenot Primary School after school while their parents were still working. She also helped them with their homework. This was in a classroom at the bottom of the school, next to the tennis courts. Dalene Bakkes was also sometimes involved there, I don’t know in what capacity - she was probably on the board. Rinie didn’t need help; after all, she was a teacher.

During that time she saw Amanda le Roux from Courtrai advertising a franchise in “Crafty Kids” in the Paarl Post, which interested her. Her major at College was Art. So she started offering art to some of the after-school children whose parents were interested during after-school care.

There was a small fridge, from which Rinie sold lollies to the children on the hot summer days. Our neighbour, Lizette van Wyk, a friendly, but straight forward person, heard about the small fridge, and then donated a neat large fridge to the aftercare, but Dalene took it for herself after a while.

One day Lizette asked Rinie if they were happy with the larger fridge, then Rinie said, quite innocently, that she had seen it in Dalene’s kitchen. Lizette was furious, and confronted Dalene head-on, after which the fridge was brought back to the aftercare. Dalene was a difficult person with a vengeful nature, so she then had her knife in for Rinie.

Together with her friend, Mrs. Holtzhausen, who was also on the aftercare board, they looked for a reason to discredit Rinie with the principal, Mr. Viviers. They then accused Rinie of illegally running her own business during aftercare. Mr Viviers was kind to Rinie, but the atmosphere was so toxic that Rinie decided to offer Crafty Kids from our own second garage, which was always empty anyway.

Billy came to lay down a large ozite-type mat for us, which they had taken out, for free. We then carried the large imbuia table, which we used under the lapa, to the garage, and threw a large plastic tablecloth over it, because the children work a lot with paint. For the lapa we bought a white plastic table and 6 chairs.

Rinie was initially worried that the existing Crafty Kids parents would not come, but her fears were unfounded, and her numbers soon grew, as the children and parents spread the word. She sometimes had up to 60 children, and offered Crafty Kids for 11 years, until I retired in 2005. Shortly after that, she also decided to stop, and sold the franchise, to be free so that she could travel around with me.

CAMPING

To be able to go away on holidays, I bought a six-foot Venter trailer and a very large light brown and blue tent and had a tow bar attached to the Mazda, which was one of our best cars. The tent had a whole set of aluminium pipes, and two “rooms”, one part where our four sleeping bags were, and the other where a folding steel table and four chairs stood, as well as our gas stove, lamp, and a small fridge. All around were windows with roll-down shutters, which we could close at night, or in case it rained. Underneath was a large grey plastic mat, on which we slept, and a ground sheet for the living room.

The children really liked that we went camping with the tent. I hear this the other day from Marinus. If I had known, we would have gone camping more often, but now it’s mustard after the meal. The last camp I can remember was at Nature’s Valley, a lovely little settlement beyond Plettenberg Bay.

Christiaan has now bought themself a tent and has gone camping a few times in Nelson, New Zealand. The nature there is exceptionally beautiful, and Daniël and Lisa really enjoy it. I am very happy that Christiaan is teaching them to appreciate the outdoors. There you get away from your own problems and learn to see the bigger picture.

LOYALTY AND THE PRICE OF TRUTH

1996. Christiaan did things his own way. He was always ready to go out to earn money. He never asked me for money. At one point he delivered up to 53 “Rapport” newspapers every Sunday on his bicycle. He also washed car windows at petrol stations, worked in people's gardens, cleaned the stainless steel cylinders at Wellington Wines at night, and painted several houses. Once when Rinie and I were driving in the Mazda down Main Street, we had to stop at the robot on Pentz Street. In the back of a bakkie diagonally in front of us were three workmen in blue overalls, then we saw that the middle one was Christiaan!

Later years, as an elder, I taught a Sunday school lesson in a College of Education classroom. Christiaan and his close friend Pierre were also in my group, and they sat next to each other in their own bench. I struggled to discipline them, because they were constantly busy with each other, instead of paying attention to the lesson. One time when I was busy, Christiaan's bench fell over with a thunderous crash - of course caused by Pierre.

They were great friends, and did many things together. One time they rode their bicycles to Pierre's Grandma, who lived in Grabouw, 93km away, over the Franschhoek Pass! They left Wellington early in the morning, and it was already dark when they were not yet in Grabouw. ​​Pierre's Grandma went looking for them and found them still on the road.

Pierre was a very good athlete, I think in the longer distances. Christiaan of course also participated. Christiaan said in one race that he would like to win, and asked Pierre to let him win, to which Pierre agreed to restrain himself. Christiaan led for a long time, but later started to get tired, then another athlete passed him. Pierre just accelerated and won the race. He was usually the winner in that number. Pierre later went to Stellenbosch University to study Chemical Engineering. This prompted Christiaan to get his B.Sc in Chemistry, and later also his Honours.

When he was still in school, he once went to Club 101 in Main Road with his friend, Pieter. They were sitting at a table having drinks, when someone came to bother Pieter. Christiaan stood up for Pieter. A scuffle broke out. A big guy then walked up to them. Christiaan looked at the guy and then went for him. It was the club’s bouncer! He got Christiaan in a headlock and ran him head first against a post. This took all the fight out of Christiaan.

That’s what I admire about him: he stands by his friends, regardless of the consequences. On another occasion, he and some of his friends wanted to buy beer over the weekend, but the regular liquor stores were already closed. Then they went to one of the spaza shops in the coloured area, where they sold liquor illegally, and got what they wanted.

As I said, he struggled to keep friends. When he was in Standard 9, he made friends with a few Standard 10s, who were doing bad things. There was always alcohol involved. One day they decided to throw stones through the windows of the hated principal, Mr. Mulder, and another teacher, whom they also didn’t like.

At that stage we had two cars - the Mazda 626, and the Passat station wagon. Christiaan picked everyone up in the Passat at about 1:30 in the morning, and drove to Mulder’s house in Charon Street, Uitsig. One of them threw a large stone through his living room window. Everyone jumped into the car and Christiaan sped away in the Perdeskoen. But Mulder jumped up at the impact, and was able to read the number plate. He called the police.

At about 2:00 our front doorbell rang. When I opened the door, there were two policemen. They asked me if I had a Passat with this number, to which I replied yes. I invited them in and they told me the story. I said as soon as Christiaan got back, I would call them. He arrived about half an hour later, quite drunk, his eyes just slits. I made him sit down and called the police. They were there within minutes, and questioned Christiaan. They said they could arrest him, but would leave him in my care. It turned out that after Mulder, they also threw out the other teacher’s living room window. No remorse.

The aftermath of this was that all the boys and their parents had to testify in the Magistrate’s Court. Mulder wanted to make a formal complaint against all the boys, which would result in everyone getting a criminal record. The consequence of this would extend throughout their lives. Wherever you apply for a job, one of the questions is whether you have a criminal record. If you say yes, it is almost certain that you will not get the job; if you say no and they later find out that you lied, this is grounds for immediate dismissal.

Fortunately, there was a woman from the Department of Social Services, who rejected Mulder's application. Everyone then had to do service for a period of time at one company or another as punishment. Christiaan had to go to work at Wellington Veterinary Services. Bruwer Morkel got to know him and liked him very much.

After this, we also had to go to a session of the Huguenot High School Board, where all the boys got a chance to say why they did it; we as parents also each got a turn to speak. I can remember how Rinie and I were sitting in the front lobby waiting for our turn, when Louise Grobler, the deputy principal, a beautiful person, walked past us and said something encouraging. Rinie was extremely embarrassed and very, very stressed.

When it was Christiaan’s turn, he said it was because Mr. Mulder didn’t greet the boys when he passed them in the corridors. I said we raise our children to have their feet firmly on the ground; also to know what they were standing for.

The leader of the group was Boonzaaier. He had a nice girlfriend, but he cheated on her, apparently several times. Christiaan saw this, and one day told her Boonzaaier was cheating on her. She then confronted Boonzaaier. The result was that the entire group kicked Christiaan out. When Christiaan mustered up the courage to inform the girl about Boonzaaier’s infidelity, the group turned against him instead of accepting the truth. It was a time of great loneliness for him and a bitter pill to swallow.

Shortly after that, one evening Boonzaaier called me and spoke in a slurred voice (drunk) about Christiaan. To which I then said to him “You are a coward to accuse Christiaan like this. Why don’t you come here and say it to my face”. Then I threw the phone down. He never came. It was a time of hard lessons about loyalty. It was important to me that Christiaan knew that I was in his corner.

CONCLUSION: THE LESSONS OF THE ROAD

When I look back on this decade today, I realize that these were the years in which the foundations of our family life were truly tested and laid. They were years of extremes: the absolute joy of new life and the wonder of a child’s development, but also the hard lessons of friendships that fail and the mistakes that one makes as a parent and as a child.

I learned that a family is not only made up of the times when everything is going smoothly, but precisely how we hold each other when the alternator gives out in the dark, or when the mistakes of youth bring us before a magistrate. My regrets about the long hours at work are tempered today by the knowledge that that hard work was the platform on which we could build.

These memories remind me that life, just like the silkworm’s cycle, has its own seasons. Some seasons are for eating and growing, others are for the silence of the cocoon, but ultimately the goal is to leave something of value behind for the next generation. May these stories show you that love does not mean perfection, but rather the willingness to walk the path together, even when the lights go out.

This is a powerful and atmospheric narrative. I balance here the raw human drama of betrayal and social isolation with the peaceful, tangible memories of family holidays. The contrast between the "bitter pill" of Christiaan's experience and the freedom of the outdoors gives this narrative a lot of depth.