LITMIR.BIZ

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      And so I became a people pleaser. I didn’t like being the centre of attention; I felt uncomfortable bringing attention to myself. I would carry this into my adult life. However, as an adult I would start to feel the need to unpack my true personality, one that wasn’t shaped by the desire to fit in. I wanted to reclaim the part of my identity I had suppressed for decades.

      As a school child, I felt the effects of apartheid before I knew what apartheid was. I learned about South Africa’s past in History – not that we truly explored the injustices and dehumanisation of colonisation and apartheid. In primary school we touched on Jan van Riebeeck ‘discovering’ South Africa, the benefits of colonisation, Wolraad Woltemade (the dude with the horse), the freedom of Mandela and the peace it brought. And further back, the history of the evolution of Homo sapiens.

      Although I used to spend a lot of time in our school library, I never thought to look up local history and it wasn’t exactly something our parents educated themselves in either. They were too busy trying to make their new life in this country work. At the same time they tried hard to preserve the culture they grew up with. They didn’t think to take note that their children were growing up in circumstances and surroundings far different from what they had experienced in their childhoods. I struggled to find my place, juggling between two countries, two cultures and two ways of living. I chose to escape. It was easier that way. I did this through reading. I’d lose myself in Enid Blyton, Roald Dahl, Louisa May Alcott, C. S. Lewis, and Philip Pullman. I found comfort in books, solitude and imagination and reading became a favourite activity.

      Having an older sister helped when it came to developing my language skills. She and I would often converse in English, especially when we were fighting in front of our parents. We’d speak fast so they weren’t able to pick up what we were saying. My sister also enjoyed reading and I’d often read the books she bought or borrowed. I would also borrow books from my cousin, Wendy, when we’d visit her family on a regular basis throughout my childhood. I’d select a few books to borrow for the week, and pick one to enjoy while the parents had conversations. Mama often scolded me because even late at night I refused to put my books down. Not that I listened. I used to sneak-read with my bedside lamp once everyone had gone to bed. I was escaping: forming secret societies to fight crime with The Secret Seven, chatting to Moonface in The Magic Faraway Tree, eating Turkish Delight in Narnia (even though I had no idea what Turkish Delight was and found it too sweet for my palate when I finally tasted it years later), discovering new plants in The Secret Garden, and running away from The Witches, their scary faces Quinton Blake illustrated so well aiding my imagination. In addition to that, we had a small collection of 152 fictional classics. These were in a comic-style, with illustrations, the first half of the book in Chinese and the second half in English. When I was done reading all 152, I’d go to the school or local library and borrow the full versions.