Drie uur smidags, 'n bietjie voor afhoktyd
staan ons in twee rye, en word soos skape getel
daarna agter traliehek en staaldeur toegesluit
en droom ek alleen tot die môre in my sel
Soos soggens, die middag ook pap
maar dan styf met 'n lepel vaal geel sop
dit met hom tot ons môre weer in rye uitstap
met leë maag en vol weemoed krop
Dit is melktyd op die plaas
netnou huppel die kalwers vry oor die veld
maar hier, die skor gemor van bandiete en blikborde wat raas
as hulle sing van slappap en flou poeiermelk
Halt, nie 'n tree verder gaan
die drade, elektries gelaai
laat jou stom stilstaan
en jy moet omdraai
Omdraai, na wat -
'n sel met diefweer vensters
'n Potplant, jou duurste skat
en jou hart op die vuil vloer, flenters!!
Hulle het aan die rowe gekrap
wat tyd probeer heel
maar agter seldeure, toegeklap
kan wat gebreek het, nooit weer heel
Nou moet ek, nie die eerste keer nie, vir Jan Taks die wet leer.
Desember het ek beswaar aangeteken teen die aanslag omdat
ek belas word met 100% van ons huurinkomste terwyl my vrou en ek binne
gemeenskap van goedere getroud is en die eiendomme dus op ons albei se
name geregistreer is.
In Desember het ek hulle daarop gewys dat hulle verkeerd is en ek
slegs met 50% daarvan belas moet word, omdat indiidue afsonderlik
belas word. Dit is met eFiling gedoen en begin Feb kry ek 'n brief
(seker vormbrief wat aan almal gestuur is) wat sê dat hulle inligting
daarop dui dat ek nie van eFiling gebruik maak nie. Dit is die tweede
jaar al wat ek via eFiling pos.
My antwoord daarop was dat my inligting daarop dui dat hulle nie van
die eFilingvoordele gebruik maak nie en iemand moet kry om hulle te
leer hoe om daarmee te werk. En hulle uitgenooi om my te bel.
Nie om hulle te leer nie maar as hulle dit wou bespreek.
Nou kry ek (so paar dae gelede) weer slegs my oorspronklike aanslag
geherpos aan my, met fasilliteite om dit (die oorspronklike) te
verander. Ek het nou net 'n stink antwoord gestuur, en daarop gedui
wat die wet sê oor die feit dat individue al jare lank afsonderlik
belas word.
Hulle probleem is dat ek in Afrikaans skryf. En hulle skryf geen woord
terug nie maar stuur net vorms wat ek weer in Afrikaans antwoord.
Mense verdra te veel van hulle. Die jaar waarin ons hierheen getrek
het, het hulle gesê dat ek R25000 moet inbetaal. Ek het gesê dat hulle
nie weet wat hulle praat nie, maar dat hulle my geld skuld. Hulle gaan
sien en hulle het my R7000 betaal. Dit was ook nie die eerste keer
nie. Mense moet nie net betaal wat Jan Taks wil hê nie.
Nou is dit interessant wat nou gaan gebeur. Toe ek in eFiling sê dat
my taal by hulle aangeteken is as Afrikaans en waarom ek my
aanslagvorms en alle ander korresondensie in Engels kry, is dit ook
bloot (in Engels) geignoreer.
Posted to the web on: 18 February 2009
A long walk to no freedom in Park
Ken Follett
A MAN with a gun shouted at my stepdaughter, Jann, for walking the
wrong way in Freedom Park on Monday.
Jann knows about guns. When she was 13, a man with a gun came to her
house in Durban and shot her father dead. His name was Dr Rick Turner,
and the gunman was an agent of the apartheid government.
Freedom Park sounds like a place where you could walk around, remind
yourself of the evil of the old apartheid regime, and spend a few
silent minutes remembering the heroes who died so that SA could be
free.
Rick Turner's other daughter, Dr Kim Turner, was also with us. She
watched her father die that night in 1978. She was nine years old. He
took 20 minutes to bleed to death.
Now she is 40, and she brought her own children from London to see
their grandfather's name carved in stone on the Wall of Remembrance.
We wished we had not gone.
There was no one in reception and no guide to the park available, but
there was a woman who asked us rudely what we were doing there.
Kim said: "We have come to see my father's name on the Wall."
"Do you want a tour?"
"No, thank you, we just want to see my father's memorial."
The rude woman kept offering us a tour and asking us why we were
there, and we kept telling her the simple answer.
Jann began to walk towards the Wall, and that was when an armed
security guard shouted at her.
We had to have a guide. His name was Jacob, he was 30 years old, and
he had learned his words parrot fashion. So my stepdaughters, who
lived and suffered through the struggle, were given a lecture about it
from a man who was not even born when their father was killed.
There is a lot more wrong with Freedom Park. The uphill climb is long
for older veterans of the struggle. There is no relief from the sun
that beats harshly down on the avenues of stone. There is no apparent
logic to the ordering of the many hundreds of names carved there, so
it is extremely difficult to find the one you are looking for.
I have been to the Vietnam Memorial in Washington . It, too, is a
simple wall carved with the names of the dead. It, too, stands in a
park.
But there are no security guards, you are not forced to listen to a
tour guide, and it is easy to find the name of your loved one. When I
visited, there were hundreds of people there, standing quietly in
front of the monument. Most of them were crying.
Freedom Park ought to be like that: simple, open, respectful. Instead
it is policed by men with guns and bossy women who are rude to their
guests.
Most visitors to Freedom Park will want to remember those who died, as
Rick Turner's children and grandchildren did.
Many will be people who themselves suffered gravely. They will come
with their hearts full of grief mingled with pride, to mourn their
loss and rejoice at the triumph of freedom.
I think that they deserve to be treated with respect.
Ek is besig om inligting te vergader oor ou Springbok Rugby spelers sover
terug as 1896. My probleem op die oomblik is om fotos van die ouens in die
hande te kry. Ek het baie van hulle detail maar die foto is die ding waaroor
ek op die oomblik half moedeloos is, want ek kry waragtig net mooi niks nie
Indien ek vir jou 'n lys name stuur, wat is die moontlikheid / kans dat die
Beeld iewers in hulle argiewe dalk my sal kan uithelp met 'n foto van die
manne
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