My name is Themba Umbalisi. I did not know my great-great-great-grandfather, for he was dead some 40 years before I was born. I do not even know the name he had when he was born, or which he used in his young life. I did know the family stories, or legends, rather, for the tales were vague, as if people were talking about a ghost or a myth rather than a man of flesh, bone and blood.
Yet, when I found out more about my ancestor, I discovered that he was all flesh, bone, and blood, with a good dash of iron and guile into the bargain. Above all, he was a man with a man’s virtues and weaknesses.
I considered myself as South African until the recent attacks on foreigners in Jo’burg and other parts of the country. That was five years ago in 2015. I was aware that I did not look quite like my n
