Apartheid’s time was up; racial policy would never return. The first free election had been held. No police helicopters were hovering in the air above Soweto; no searchlights were playing across houses and streets. We sat on a wall overlooking the street outside Nozipo’s house, talking of what it would be like in the new South Africa when someone raised the question of mixed marriage.
“It’s impossible,” said Lindi, and to my astonishment most people mumbled their approval.
“The neighbourhood would never accept it,” Lindy continued, and I assumed that she meant the white people.

“No, no,” she said, "The black community, I mean. It would never work. A white marrying into a black family? Never! Think of our customs, our traditions and how we socialise. We have a completely different culture than white people. You cannot alter that, nor can you completely understand it unless you are born into it; it is better that ...