Funnily enough I don't remember hearing the result. I guess it was such a foregone conclusion we didn't tune in and wait for every update the way we do now. In any case, we didn't have TV where we were, just radio, and not a lot of that. Most of our Zulu friends voted either Inkatha or ANC. I think the district returned an IFP majority - in those days the IFP pretty much reigned supreme in the rural areas.
When I look back at the day now, I wonder how such a landmark, momentous day in our country's history could have left such a small impression on my memory. No partying. No lengthy discussions. Just back to the hospital and get on with the work. Another Caesarian section for foetal distress, another child with asthma, another old man with a hydrocoele. More babies crying, more people dying.
A week later both our vehicles were stolen from outside our house during the night while we were sleeping less than 10 metres away in our bedroom. Unfortunately or perhaps fortunately I didn't wake up. The thieves were unable to get past the car's immobiliser - the override button was in the boot. They simply wrecked all the locks and the dashboard trying to do so and then left the car in the local primary school yard where it was found the next morning. They managed to get the bakkie going, however - the override switch was under the dash - and we never saw it again. We used the insurance payout as a deposit on our house in Cape Town and managed on one car for the next 10 years.
It took us about a day to decide that this was a sign that we should leave. Probably not the most logical decision we have ever made, but we had been at the hospital for over 3 years and our daughter would soon be needing to go to an English medium school, of which there was none for over 100km. So I applied for a transfer and a friend gave me a job back at my old hospital. We were sad to leave, but it was time to be moving on.
During my final Friday morning in the hospital chapel I was given a Zulu Bible, which I still have and a lot of really lovely presents - wood carvings, plaques, a beer scoop - most of them still adorn our house and remind us of the lush green grass and Umdoni trees of Maputaland. I have been back only once - during a hospital strike in 1995 and then only for a short time. I think sometimes it is best to keep one's good memories intact and going back now would surely shatter them. By all accounts the place is totally changed.
