Chairperson, hon Members of Parliament, treasured guests in the gallery and young people of South Africa, the mother of the nation, Albertina Sisulu, will remain a yardstick against which we will always be measured. One student wrote to The World newspaper, and I quote:
Our parents are prepared to suffer under the white man's rule. They have been living for years under these laws and they have become immune to them. But we, as youth, refuse to swallow an education that is designed to make us slaves in the country of our birth.
As we pay tribute to the youth of 1976, we acknowledge that their struggle was not in vain. We do so in acknowledgement of the words of Solomon Mahlangu:
Their blood has nourished the tree of freedom, the fruits of which we see today.
Mahlangu was a freedom fighter who was sentenced to death by the apartheid regime.
Soweto may sound like an African name, but the word was originally an acronym for South Western Townships, a cluster of townships sprawling across Soweto in Johannesburg. This is where the 1976 uprisings, also known as the Soweto Uprisings, began. It spread from there to the rest of the country, by young students wearing a black and white uniform. That is why I am wearing it today - in remembrance of them. Today we have a generation of young people that faces different challenges to those of 1976. Their challenge is no longer to fight and protest against an unjust system, but to build a democracy which enables them to reach their full potential. The young people today face challenges such as unemployment and HIV and Aids, but if they don't stand up and fight, they cannot win. The young people of today face many challenges that they must fight.
We remember the youth of 1976 because they taught us the lesson that it is possible for young people to stand up and confront the challenges facing them. Scores of children, including 12-year-old Hector Pieterson, were shot and killed by police after the students launched protests against Bantu education. Young people have always been fighting, even from the wars of resistance.
There is a question that is always asked in this House: What does the youth know about apartheid? Today people must listen. Today's violence is rooted in history. It is the ghost of the apartheid regime that has come back to haunt its creators.
One must look at that legacy to understand the current upsurge in violence. It has bred social deprivation, thereby fostering frustration and the potential for violence. This does not always take the form of political violence, but permeates through society and results in an increased crime rate, murder, wife battery and child abuse. How do we know apartheid? To those who don't know, we were conscientised at a very tender age. In memory of Mpanza, my late friend, I want to say that at the age of about three, he saw a Hippo, picked up a stone and threw it at the vehicle. He knew that it was the enemy.
In 1984 I was travelling with my dad in Johannesburg and I asked my dad why I couldn't ride on a double-decker bus. He told me that it was only for white people. That was my turning point; then I said I would fight.
South African youths have grown up in a culture of violence. They lived in dirty townships, in overcrowded housing with no sanitation, hot water or electricity. They are frequently the children of large families whose parents work long hours and give them little or no time.
The parents worked in mines. Our fathers stayed in compounds, while our mothers lived in the backrooms of white employers. We were banned from visiting them. We had to hide under the bed because the madam must not see us.
The only thing we had to eat was leftovers. That is why I don't eat leftovers today, because the madam said, "Thandi is here and she can eat the leftovers." It was usually left for the dogs. That is where we come from. That is why, as the youth of South Africa, we know where we come from. [Applause.]
We lived in this country without political rights and nobody heard our voice in Parliament. That it is why it is difficult for me to vote for someone who has never lived in a shack, who has never been on a train that is full of people.
You, on this side, make a noise because you are guilty and your parents were part of those who were making laws. [Applause.] You are that generation and you must listen and acknowledge your faults.
They sent us to the Transkei, Bophuthatswana, Venda and Ciskei, the TBVC states, that were even worse. That is why I will never acknowledge the leaders of the TBVC states because they were an extension of apartheid. That is why they are honoured by this side of the House.
We never had a ...