On the Bridge of Goodbye: The story of South Africa’s discarded San soldiers
by David Robbins
(Jonathan Ball)
My neighbour saw this book on my table and said ‘this is going to be a sad story”.
He was right, but I don’t think he knew how right he was, as he was referring to the sad state of the San in the Northern Cape. On the Bridge of Goodbye chronicles the sad state of the San throughout Southern Africa.
Officially, author David Robbins takes us on the journey home of three San living in South Africa. The journey starts in Platfontein, near Kimberley, and heads north to southeastern Angola and into the Caprivi Strip in Namibia. Mario Mahongo was born in Angola near the town of Menongue. Tomsen Nore was from the town of Chetto, in the western Caprivi. They moved to South Africa after their South African Defence Force (SADF) battalions were disbanded at Namibian independence. Jan Kleinbooi, a South African of San origin, is with them as well. Apart from being the driver, he is also on a voyage of discovery to explore his roots.
It takes quite a while, but eventually we get to know the three of them quite well and between them a terrible story unfolds. The story covers much more than the fate of South Africa’s discarded San soldiers. It’s the story of a dying people.
Robbins narrates in a style not unlike a personal diary. It reads like a naive story of kindness, undoubtedly written from the perspective of a white South African. Not that this is a problem, it’s just obvious. Bits of the book read a like a real-life Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver’s novel about a family of American missionaries set in the Congo during the tumultuous period of Patrice Lumumba and the rise to power of Mobutu.
Platfontein is supposed to be compensation for the service San soldiers gave to the SADF and the Southwest Africa Territorial Force. South Africa built the township for them but only after they had spent more than a decade living in a miserable tent camp at Schmidtsdrift, on the dust and rock of the Northern Cape.
The San soldiers didn’t have to move to South Africa; they were given a choice. Some stayed in Angola, others stayed in Namibia. Whatever choice they made, there appears to be one constant: an ongoing conflict between the San and the majority Bantu-speaking population.
It certainly didn’t help the lot of the San that they virtually always picked the wrong side. They are constantly reminded by officialdom in Windhoek and Luanda that they chose to fight on the side of the Portuguese and the South Africans during the wars of independence in Namibia and Angola. The San also don’t forget that at one time they had the entire sub continent to themselves. Shortly after entering Angola in their Landcruiser, Mario remarks sadly to his colleagues: ‘You can’t go anywhere you want anymore.” That, in a nutshell, is the story of the San in the 21st century.
Language is about the only tie left that binds. And even that tie is fraying, especially in Angola, where the community has been decimated, numbering a few thousand at most. Language is an integral part of identity. This is an issue no South African should have any difficulty understanding. It is also to South Africa’s credit that this is where the greatest efforts have been made to keep alive two San languages: !Xun and Khwe. The SABC, apart from providing programming in the country’s 11 official languages, also has radio facilities in the Northern Cape serving the San of Platfontein.
It’s rather ironic that once Mario, Tomsen and Jan returned home, they felt it necessary to make up clothing parcels to send to their relatives and new-found friends in Angola and Namibia. In a life of difficult choices, they felt that they had made the right choice to leave the lands of their birth.
Perhaps the most positive spin-off of this book will be a history of the San, written by one of their own. Tomsen took extensive notes throughout the trip. On the way home, he told Robbins that he wants to write about something he calls spiritual genocide.