KATARAK
We did not speak of the struggle to unionize. But of naked feet thawing in the warm stream of a donkey's piss. The death of your son in Stellenbosch. Not knowing. We did not speak of forced evictions. White privilege. Larneys in Landbruisers. Krotoa. Huriǂoaxa. ǁkhamis sa. But shuddered at the sound of ǃ’Aukarob thunder. Rain lashing the corrugated iron roof of the storeroom.
We did not speak of fetal alcohol syndrome or the dop system. But of becoming a doctor. To be an example to your child. About those with power having only one eye. Playing center. The lack of an ear. We did not speak of a minimum wage. Or structural violence. But of how giving is more important than what you receive. How the roots go in search of sustenance. Of how the vine falls asleep after it has shed its leaves. And how it wakes with tears at the first pruning. One eye telling the other it is time to wake.
We did not speak of the lack of basic sanitary facilities for harvesters. Banned pesticides. But getting married in '78. Selling wood over weekends. Fishing for black bass. And youth education. Singing 'As Jesus kom, wat sal jou antwoord wees?' [If Jesus comes, what will your answer be..?] on a warm Cederberg night.
We did not speak of the struggle to unionize. But of naked feet thawing in the warm stream of a donkey's piss. The death of your son in Stellenbosch. Not knowing. We did not speak of forced evictions. White privilege. Larneys in Landbruisers. Krotoa. Huriǂoaxa. ǁkhamis sa. But shuddered at the sound of ǃ’Aukarob thunder. Rain lashing the corrugated iron roof of the storeroom.
We did not speak of fetal alcohol syndrome or the dop system. But of becoming a doctor. To be an example to your child. About those with power having only one eye. Playing center. The lack of an ear. We did not speak of a minimum wage. Or structural violence. But of how giving is more important than what you receive. How the roots go in search of sustenance. Of how the vine falls asleep after it has shed its leaves. And how it wakes with tears at the first pruning. One eye telling the other it is time to wake.
We did not speak of the lack of basic sanitary facilities for harvesters. Banned pesticides. But getting married in '78. Selling wood over weekends. Fishing for black bass. And youth education. Singing 'As Jesus kom, wat sal jou antwoord wees?' [If Jesus comes, what will your answer be..?] on a warm Cederberg night.
We spoke in the purest creole of prayer. We spoke in Afrikaans. Kitchen Dutch. Kaaps. But not of marginalization. Malabar. Bengal. Java. Madagaskar. Or the scarification of systemic dispossession.
Instead, we spoke of dreams. Before we fell silent.
Instead, we spoke of dreams. Before we fell silent.
This long-term project delves into the complex colonial heritage of Afrikaans/Kaaps farm labor across the Cape Winelands in South Africa. This project seeks to amplify the voices of those shaped by generations of toil and resilience, while also reframing the narrative to explore aspirations, dreams, and visions of the future.
Through intimate storytelling and evocative imagery, Katarak highlights the interplay between historical struggles and contemporary realities. It examines how traditions, identity, and culture have been preserved and reimagined by farmworker communities as they navigate a landscape deeply rooted in colonial legacies.
By looking beyond the weight of generational challenges, it celebrates the strength and aspirations of these communities, offering a hopeful perspective on their journey toward self-determination and renewal.
Featured by PhMuseum