Making friends in the queue
MY FNB queue white lady friend still recognises me. She smiles, winks, calls me ROOTS; sometimes hugs me when she’s not hurrying to queue somewhere. We had chosen “Roots” to be our acknowledgement name.
I always felt so ashamed that I had never acknowledged her in the same way. Strange! Many blacks think that white people cannot differentiate between us because “we all look alike”. Could this be the same with us blacks? But I have seen blacks conversing with whites quite animatedly, then proceeded in different directions, the lovely smile in the whites faces disappearing into thin air. I do understand that she should not be not be grinning all the way, away from the friend, but it’s still a mad world!
We have been standing for about 20 minutes in the same Inquiries queue; balancing on the rails that were not stable enough to support our exhausted old bodies. I looked back at her standing behind me and said “I can feel roots extending from my feet through the tile floor.”
She giggled, “I could’ve finished knitting my scarf!” We laughed and hugged. Then a white gentleman said “you’re next madam”. We allowed an old black lady behind us to go through and just kept on with our own silly conversation.
Watching people wiping their faces and shifting their weight; a student leaving the queue to lean against a wall, her bag kicked forward by another one who couldn’t tolerate the journey to the tellers; we could not be bothered. Then Roots did something very embarrassing; literally pulled me to the front of the queue, with her standing right behind me.
“HAI’BO!” a black man yelled. We got to the front, did our own business and parted to continue our conversation outside. She got into her car and drove away, I’m sure that this rebel would have driven me to Newtown if I had asked her.
I met my next queue friend at the Post Office in High Street. I was behind her and she was actually speaking with the lady between us and addressing the issue of not being able to adopt a white orphan.
“Was it because I was black that the agency preferred whites to adopt white orphans?” she asked, “I am a psychologist at Rhodes University, not married but would like to adopt a child whether black or white. Oh there were so many issues discussed and I just came to the conclusion that my cultural background would be a disadvantage.”
It was her time to be serviced. I had wanted to speak to her. Fortunately, on the same afternoon we met again at Woolworths, sat on the stools in the shoe department and discussed other issues around adoption. I asked her why she wanted to adopt a white child.
“It’s a long story but I wanted to prove a point. I had adopted my late sister’s daughter at age 12, seen her through university and now she is a qualified medical practitioner. I wished I could do the same for a white child.” How noble.
We exchanged numbers. I phoned her about two weeks later. A young girl answered in a polished voice. She told me she was one of the children who stayed at this home then called out: “Mom, Mrs Ngesi on the line”.
Mom was a different person. She ran an after-care programme for a primary school in East London and my post office queue friend was her sister-in-law, the mother of one of the kids who actually stayed with her. Weird!
I met my favourite queue friend at Checkers – an old white lady whom I taught queue jumping (not as bad as it sounds). I showed her how to keep a trolley in the queue and just continue shopping around using a smaller basket, and then come and empty your stuff into the bigger one!
She had a copy of the Grocott’s Mail and noticed that I also had purchased one. She told me she always looks forward to reading Newtown Old Eyes and turned to page 9. I asked her to look at my face and asked her if I did not look like the face on the page.
“I’ll tell them I’ve actually spoken to you,” she said as she looked at the picture and then at me. Hey, I am famous!
It’s so good to look at one another and smile, queue friend or not. It makes me feel so good to be alive. I think I’m going to start a Smile Club which will meet in front of City Hall if the mayor allow its.
I know she wears one of the greatest smiles.