Mark Mathabane was weaned on devastating poverty and schooled in the cruel streets of South Africa's most desperate ghetto. Yet Mark did what no physically and psychologically battered "Kaffir" was supposed to dohe escaped to tell about it.
Mark Mathabane (born Johannes Mathabane) is an author, lecturer, and former collegiate tennis player.
Dr. Mathabane touched the hearts of millions with his sensational autobiography "Kaffir Boy." Telling the true story of his coming of age under apartheid in South Africa, the book won a prestigious Christopher Award, rose to No. 3 on The New York Times best-sellers list and to No. 1 on the Washington Post best-sellers list, and was translated into several languages.
In KAFFIR BOY, Mark Mathabane writes an "in-your-face' memoir of his youth during apartheid in 1960's-1970's South Africa. His eyewitness accounts as a young boy of the injustices and violence towards black men, women and children were horrific and disturbing. His memories of the abject poverty and squalor his family was forced to live in were hair-raising, and at times, revolting, especially the incidents with the nightsoil collectors and children floating toy "boats" in urine. However, I questioned the author's frequent recollections of conversations during his childhood as verbatim. I can't remember conversations I had two days ago with that much detail! Also, I wonder why he did not explain the reason he changed his first name from Johannes to Mark. This leads me to wishing he wrote an "Afterword" - not only to reference his name change, but also to tell the reader what happened to him once he reached America, and what happened to his family? A glossary of non-English words would have been extremely helpful to this reader! All in all, I liked this story - it's definitely one that must be told without any "pussyfooting" around it!
Wow-this is an eye opening book. Mark Mathabane writes of his life as a Black boy in South Africa during Apartheid. I had no idea what went on during that era (and sadly some of what went on then, is probably still happening now). i found this book listed on a list of books that people want to ban...which means that I should probably read them. After reading it, I'm not sure why anyone would want to ban it. I think everyone should read it. It is HISTORY and a reality that perhaps we don't want to face, but should.
The foundation of democracy is quality public education. That's my takeaway from Mark Mathabane's autobiography. I doubt that was Mathabane's intended thesis, but I tend to find what I look for.
It is always hard to write a fair review about a book where you've fallen out with the protagonist, who, by the end of the book, I found mildly irritating and preachy. I am in two minds about this book which on the one hand I found insightful and revealing, but on the other, tediously introspective and lacking in realism. That's not to say that I don't buy into the representation of SA that Mathabane puts forward, it is simply that the book is written, intentionally or otherwise, in a childish manner, by which I mean that Mathabane focuses solely on his subjective experience of everything, regardless of whether or not the reader would be interested in hearing about the feelings of those around him. For example, Mathabane describes his childhood as the eldest son in a family of two boys and five girls, however there is barely any description of times spent together with his siblings or of what his siblings get up to.
Furthermore, there were few descriptions of the surrounding environment. The first half of the book was slightly better in this respect, while Mathabane was a child, but once he becomes a youth and tennis takes over, there is hardly any description at all of his home, despite the fact that it was now become occupied with seven children!
Mathabane's lack of attention to descriptive details is however not reflected in his descriptions of conversations, which he appears to recall word for word, paragraph after paragraph. This made me slightly suspicious about the veracity of what he claims people said as I was left with the impression that Mathabane was recalling the conversations in a way that he wanted to remember them, rather than necessarily being a true summary of what was said. I felt this in particular when he described conversations with his mother.
There is no doubting at all that a book like this is so important in teaching us about the harsh reality of life in SA townships, and one cannot help but admire Mathabane's strength and determination in escaping this way of life. But, over 20 years later, post-apartheid, I can't help wondering what the book achieved, given that life in Alex and many townships in SA has hardly moved on since.
Kaffir Boy by Mark Mathabane has been one of the slowest, yet most harrowing reading experiences I’ve had this year.
Assigned for incoming 10th graders at the school I work at, it’s a devastating and emotionally draining memoir about Apartheid in South Africa from the early 1960s to the 1980s.
With pluck and wit, Mark Mathabane’s triumphant journey from Kaffir boy, to tennis champion, and eventual writer is a testament to the human spirit- and that we all need a little help now and then.
This book is beautiful in its tragic solemnity, in some ways a breed apart from other books written on the subject. After reading, I closed it and sighed heftily. A sigh from what? I'm not sure: relief, understanding, sadness...something that made me sit in silent thought for a few minutes. Here is the firsthand account of a young boy who comes of age in the slums of Alexandra, apartheid South Africa, during the 1960s, during an era when the brutality of apartheid was not yet acknowledged. The book utilizes the police brutality (the Peri-Urban) and sets the scene for the type of environment within which Mark Mathabane grew up.
Chapter two is where Mathabane grabbed my attention and never let it go (Chapter 1 seemed a bit preachy to me), narrating a cold winter day (he was somewhere between 5-7 years old), when he is awakened from his bed on the cold cement floor, by a police raid. His parents escape and leave the kids alone (otherwise risk being locked up), and Mark is left to deal with the harassment of the police on his own. Mind boggling. There is a type of militant anger in the tone that pops up every now and then, but this didn't bother me because after reading some scenes in this book, no anger from the narrator would have seemed a bit weird, honestly.
Although there were portions of the book that were a bit off-putting (parts of Part III for example, where the adult narrator crept in with his words of wisdom and opinions, sometimes obstructing the narrative) there were no consequential disturbances to my reading experience. I don't think you can read about South Africa and its historical battles without reading this book. This memoir gives a voice to the South African children of the 60s, it is one of those must-reads that claims and safeguards a certain time, era, people, and place.
This is a stark autobiography of a young boy growing up in a ghetto in apartheid South Africa in the 1960s and 70s. The narrative vividly describes apartheid and the unbearable conditions its laws inflicted on blacks: racism, extreme poverty, constant hunger, brutality, constant fear and intimidation.
Matabane’s teenage dream to get out of the ghetto faced almost impossible odds. In addition to the conditions under apartheid, he also had to contend with his father’s violent personality, his tribal heritage, and pressures from his peers. Through a series of circumstances, the unwavering support of his mother and grandmother, his tenacity and determination, and no small degree of luck, I found it almost unbelievable the obstacles he overcame.
Throughout the book, the one theme that resounded with me was the strength shown by Matabane’s mother as she faced unspeakable conditions. She had the vision that education was the only way for her children to improve their circumstances, and she did everything in her power to get them into school and keep them there. Even though she was herself uneducated, had extremely limited financial resources, seven children to care for and feed, and a violent husband who drank and gambled his small wages away, education was always her priority. I wonder what Mathabane’s story would have been had his mother not been such a strong positive influence in his life.
This is a memoir of growing up in the 1960s & 1970s in crushing poverty and brutal injustice and violence at the height of Apartheid’s most repressive years. Naturally bright and athletic with a superhuman drive to break out of the slum in which he grew up. The author is able to attract the attention of tennis stars who helped him to get a scholarship in the U.S.
I picked this book off of the free shelf at the library and got exactly what I expected: An introspective look into black life during apartheid. While interesting, if you know anything about apartheid, the information will not come as a surprise. It's uplifting to think that this man made it out so well, but I wish he would have added a postscript at the end, letting us know about what happened to the rest of his family. All I could think of at the end of the book was about how much I wondered how the others fared.
It's inspirational to think how he worked so hard to get out of his position. It's a strong message of hope to any one stuck in a bad situation, that education can lift you up. As far as his writing style though, it was hard to get into at times. Sometimes he gets personal and writes as if he were writing a story, other times he writes as if for a textbook. So at times it's dry, others, very emotionally involved. Maybe the textbook areas are the points he is uncomfortable sharing? Or maybe he just doesn't remember as well, but any point, it's hit or miss as to how much you want to keep reading.
Overall, I'm glad I picked it up. It was an interesting read, and I'll be putting it back up on that shelf for some one else to read.
I'm going to South Africa next week and so I'm preparing myself with a variety of ''you must read'' books about the country. After reading a history of apartheid, this book gave it a human perspective for me. Reading this book showed me how all those damnable laws that happened at the top of the elite white hierarchy in South Africa affected the powerless millions of non-whites at the bottom. Mathabane writes eloquently about his growing up in the midst of poverty, violence, disease, conflict, alienation, hatred, and ignorance. This is actually a great book for anybody who wants to see the kind of impact poverty borne of racism has on a human being - how it robs people of their motivation, their potential, their integrity, their humanity. And, of course, it is also a hopeful story, in that Mathabane somehow miraculously managed to find his way out of the ghetto. He had to have had a highly developed will to do this, to face rejection by the black community, to take the risks of participating in a white culture, to face up to his father and gangs. And his mother was a pivotal part of his story with her encouragement and stimulating early home environment (a revelation: you don't need to read to your child, you can tell stories!). This is an amazing story of courage. I don't mean to cavil about Mathabane, but I couldn't help notice that whenever he lost a tennis match, he always gave an excuse (I had an injury, it was too windy etc.). Maybe this was part of his strong will. Also, why did he bring out that business about Princeton, which was never clearly resolved, and then say he was going to Limestone College? Kind of a strange pairing. I'm interested in what happened when he got to America. I noticed he went to four colleges on his way to a bachelor's degree. What was that about? Clearly, there is motivation to read his subsequent books to find out things like that (and also to discover what happened to his mother, sister etc.). I'm so glad that I read this book. It should be part of any high school reading program.
This book is one of my favorites. I fell in love with Mark Mathabane; I fell in love with his resilience, his strength, his continuous belief in himself as a black man, and his struggle against the disgusting system of Apartheid in South Africa. Throughout the book, Mark refuses to believe what the white man affirms of him. On the contrary, he believes in his intelligence and his strength, fighting the struggle to improve the lives of Black people. I could not put the book down.
Even with his justified anger, frustration, and hate, Mark fought the struggle with a positive mindset and chose to keep his dreams alive. This book is emotional, inspiring, sad and incredible on all levels. I knew about apartheid, but reading it from Mark’s perspective gives the reader a more personal look at the everyday life of Black: man, woman, and children, under apartheid South Africa. This book gives a good description of the horrific system and its policy meant to create a "white South Africa." Every character in this book reveals something about apartheid and I could see each of their points and their way of acting and reacting. Mark is inspiring as a black man, an African, and a human being. A Must Read!
Mark Mathabane Kaffir Boy New York: Simon & Schuster, 2007 354 pp. $15.00 978-0-684-84828-0
“Let us not rest until we are free to live in dignity in the land of our birth.”(Mark Mathabane) Mark Mathabane dedicates this quote in his autobiography (Kaffir Boy) to the people in South Africa for the struggle and fight for freedom. The autobiography shows the cruel punishment black South Africans suffer from white South Africans in the 1950’s, getting in great detail the pain he and his family suffered. Although the black society in South Africa was an underdog to the White society, Mathabane expresses the hope and devotion black South Africans had in such a crucial time period. Hope and devotion keeps the black South African society from not completely falling apart and giving up against the over ruling white society. Such thing as education and employment is a daily struggle for them and without hope and devotion their black society would earn no rights. In his autobiography, Mathabane explains the devotion his mother has for Mathabane to be educated, and the struggles she had to go through. ““Why do you want me to go to school Mama?” I asked hopping she might somehow clear up some of the confusion that was building in my mind. “I want you to have a future, boy […] and contrary to what your father says, school is the only means to a future.”(133 Mathabane) Education is a great gift to Mathabane and his mother, and for her son to be provided with such a thing gives her pride and hope. In the process in getting Mathabanes education, however, his mother goes through a series of struggles with only hope to drive her to stay devoted. Repeatedly, his mother and Mathabane had to wait in hour-long lines to only be rejected for forms necessary for schooling. “ The baas says he can’t see you today” he said removing a fancy overcoat [...] “We’ve been here since five in the morning. All we need are papers for my son. Please tell him I desperately need the papers for my son. Please, murena, please.”(112) The process of coming back and forth to the office hopefully getting the papers necessary was an overwhelming and frustrating experience for his mother, and she had to have hope to stay devoted to her dream of her son being educated. Which in conclusion of this autobiography, Mathabane gets a education growing up to not only be top of his class, but even moves on to college out of South Africa. Hope and devotion are important qualities black South Africans had to have in this time to succeed. Mark Mathabane shows the struggle his society went through and without these qualities you would be lost in the crowd. Without hope and devotion not only would Mathabane lives be changed, but the black South African society as a whole
This book is graphic and super heavy. I have read a lot of nonfiction books in my life that deal with someone’s traumatic upbringing, but this one is now at the top of my list. Several times I had to close the book, sigh, and sit in silence.
This is an autobiography of a boy who grew up in Alexandria Township, Johannesburg, South Africa, during apartheid. A victim of segregation, poverty, and brutality, he learned how to survive under the harsh conditions during the 1960s and 70s.
Once I finished Chapter 2, I was hooked. I felt as if I were there with him. Although he did not hide his frustration and anger, I loved how he remained positive throughout. He was determined to be successful and to make it out of there. Although I was familiar with apartheid, he made me see what it was like for the average black person living there. This is a must-read and one hell of a story. Powerful!
I loved this book. I read it when I was 13 and just starting to get intrested in my South African roots. It's amazing yes it was an autbiography but it felt even more personal it felt like I was reading his diary.
This is, undeniably, a disturbing book, and some parents have objected to its use as a teaching tool at the High School level. I used it in a class on “The World After 1945” at the University level and found it very effective. It engages the students with a period in history many of them have only vaguely heard about, but which engaged my generation with a sense of international responsibility. Being anti-apartheid was one of the most effective activist rallying cries of the 1980s, and it remains an emotionally stirring subject for students when presented with it in an intimate and honest manner, as in this book.
Mathanabe was, of course, one of the lucky few South African blacks who was able to escape the horrors of his home country in order to become internationally famous, first as a tennis player, and second as a writer. This book therefore offers a somewhat inspiring story of a young man determined to make something of himself despite the many obstacles put in his way. But Mathanabe never loses sight of the millions of his countrymen and –women who simply didn’t get the breaks he did. Despite the happy ending for him, personally, his sense of responsibility prevents it from becoming a too-personal story.
I said that the book was disturbing, and it is meant to be. As a child, Mathanabe witnessed and experienced arbitrary brutality on a regular basis and sometimes on a level that is beyond description. The scene which most parents object to involves his rape (for money) by several adult black South Africans, but there are scenes of physical violence without the sex that nearly as shocking. Even his first day at school seems to be a story of ineffective authority resorting to violence to keep order against the tide of overcrowding and ignorance that it faces. This gives a good sense of the overwhelming hopelessness of life in the ghettos and Bantus of South Africa. Like studying the Holocaust, this is a vital part of learning history, and understanding the dangers of oppressive regimes in any period.
I wasn’t expecting to enjoy this book. I read it, because I want to understand the experiences of black people living under apartheid. I thought hearing the unpleasant truths, no matter how it was written, would leave me with more insight and understanding. And to some extent that was true, but mostly this book just felt disingenuous and frustrating.
I’m sure, like Mathabanes other accomplishments, this book was important and ground breaking in its time. But, I found it reads like the poorly written ramblings of an emotionally stunted, self-obsessed person.
The book often feels disingenuous, and I had the feeling that he was being selective in the stories he’d share. He never paints himself as anything but a victim or a saint. Which seems entirely unlikely, given that as a young teenager he was involved in a violent gang, a point he neglects to discuss until it becomes an obstacle to his dreams.
There is an auspicious lack of character development in this book, as he portrays himself exactly the same from the ages of 5 through 18. But worse, is the shallow treatment he gives the other people in his life, they only feature to raise him up. Near the end of the book when it’s clear that he had made it, he recounts how someone once told him that he was unlike other black people because he believed in himself. I wonder if it required him to be emotionally stunted and self-obsessed in order to survive the horrors he did.
Undeniably, he’s story was harrowing and important. But, I wish he’d simply told the facts and experiences of himself and those around him, without embellishment and grandstanding.
What I took away from reading this book: 1. An important refresher on some of the events and atrocities of apartheid. 2. My general knowledge was slightly expanded, specifically with regards to historical personalities in tennis. 3. Reflecting on how self centered I am. I realized the importance of viewing my life not simply as a series of my own experiences, but rather through the stories of those around me.
I usually don't read many biographies but after reading only a few pages, I was hooked. I ended up reading the whole novel in one sitting, and it was completely worth it.
I can't even begin to understand the challenges for people living in Apartheid South Africa. However, this autobiography really set the stage for helping the reader start the grasp the significance and solemnity of this period of time.
Mark Mathabane is a truly powerful figure. It was really inspiring how big he dreamed and pushed given his oppressive environment. I loved reading about the process he took to become a recognized academic and tennis player.
A huge eye opener. I recommend this autobiography to anyone who has even the slightest interest in learning about history and understanding some of the harsh realities people have to face.
I wanted to like this book, but that's a tall order. The author comes across as annoying, preachy, and selfish. Certainly, there are revealing details of life in apartheid South Africa, and we should know these truths. Yet, his self-involvement becomes quite grating at times; his siblings, for instance, are portrayed as purely one-dimensional characters. Mathabane describes his early years in minute detail, and also recounts conversations as if they were recorded, and these affectations cause me to wonder how much is true and how much is an effort to present himself in a certain light. I do respect Mathabane for his perseverance and determination to improve his future. However, I greatly wish that he had been paired with a much better editor when the book was being prepared.
I lived and went to school barely 5 minutes away from the Alexandra township, but knew absolutely nothing about life there until I read this book. I even played tennis in the same places Mark Mathabane did without realizing the history.
I really wish this was a book that was covered in my high school, as it would have given me a greater understanding of the context that I grew up in.
The author misused the "Uncle Tom" moniker as is so prevalent among the African community. I suspect this is due to a lack of reading about Josiah Henson's life. This book was motivational for highlighting the need for self-education of Africa and the battle against European domination of finance, education and religion.
WOW. what an excellent book detailing the banality of evil that was apartheid in south africa. spoiler alert: it was SO much worse than i, and i'm sure most of society, could imagine in our worst nightmares. reading this at the same time as caste was transcendental, as mathabane's first person experience proved many of the academic points wilkerson makes in caste, from the precarity of the top rung (white people needing the security of apartheid to know that no matter how low they fall, they have a concrete floor above that of the highest ranking black person) to the need for enforcers at each rung of the ladder (black police officers and pass officials who relish their ability to lord over less fortunate black people).
the parallels between south africa and isr@el in their apartheid practices cannot be overstated. from suicidal children under 10 to routine arbitrary changes in rules to white peoples' whims, mathabane details what it's like to live as a 'fourth class citizen' on your own land. the contradictions inherent in apartheid, from being required to be present at work until late at night despite not being allowed in the place where your work is located at those hours to requiring a pass for work but requiring proof of work for a pass, moreover, emphasize the impossibility of life under these conditions. this haunts mathabane all the way to his hard fought entry into a US college when he had immense guilt saying goodbye to his 6 younger siblings, mother, and grandmother.
what really struck me was that mathabane was perhaps incredibly lucky in these circumstances, constantly scoring at the top of his class in school and having a major aptitude for tennis (which was what his scholarship to the united states rested upon). despite this, however, he was met with fierce backlash from white south africans terrified at the US finding out about the wretched horrors of apartheid and black south africans believing he made a deal with the devil to achieve his success in the ‘white world’. he was subjected to this all the way until he sought a passport and visa to start his studies at limestone college (he turned down princeton because they would not let him in until september 1979, while limestone college accepted him for september 1978, and in south africa, circumstances can change whenever a white person changes their mind). his success rested upon the favor of a famous white tennis player who opened up all of the subsequent doors to wealthy whites who would help him get to america. mathabane never would have met this white person had he not spent his last rand on a bus ticket to watch him play.
i cannot help but wonder, if his biography is representative of the life of a black south african during apartheid who got inconceivably lucky in so many respects, what the life of the average south african during apartheid would look like. of course, rashid khalidi (incredibly wealthy palestinian and author of hundred years’ war) and mark mathabane provide survivorship bias to this area of study that i doubt will be overcome without a major restructuring of how the world works (teehee love u chomsky).
“Memory to us black people is like a book that one can read over and over again for an entire lifetime.”
3.5 stars. Really compelling autobiography of a young black boy growing up under apartheid in 1960s and 1970s South Africa. It's a time period not so long ago, and we all know the types of things that happened. But to hear about those atrocities and the appalling conditions that black people had to love under from someone who'd been through it, in his own words, is something else. Mathabane starts the story when he's about 4 years old, following his relationship with his parents and siblings and his entry into school and the world of tennis, talking about life in his neighbourhood, the constant threat of police, the weight of all the bureaucratic processes forced upon black people, his terror terror of whites. It's interspersed with the appropriate social commentary, explanations of the rules and norms of the times. He lived through some horrifying stuff. The latter half of the book is fuelled by his desire to go to America ("the promised land") and the way in which that was talked about was a little less compelling to me. And I have to admit, this isn't my favourite style of autobiography. I do prefer a more generalised style, anecdotes and recollections, important conclusions drawn from important moments. This way this was told, as almost a sort of novelisation, with recreations of dialogue and entire conversations... eh. Not my favourite. Still enjoyable read though. Listened to the audiobook as read by the author; always to the way to go with an autobiography. Really glad I gave this a try; it was informative and heart-breaking and ultimately very hopeful.
Mark (Johannes) Mathabane is truly a miracle. He grew up in the slums of Alexandra, South Africa - a virtual shantytown. He slept on a piece of urine soaked cardboard, bathed sporadically and his toilet was the streets of the ghetto. This is what apartheid afforded him and his family. Disgusting.
Kaffir is the African equivalent to our N-word. Mukiwa means white boy. Having read both of these memoirs, what a difference skin color meant to these boys/young men.
Africa was a black continent, then the Europeans arrived (Belgians, Dutch, English etc) and tried to make it white and Christian. Then there was apartheid in South Africa. Tell me how white men, supposedly Christian, could decide that God made them superior and made blacks inferior and that they should be separated with the blacks their servants? The Bible says ALL MEN were created in His image and likeness! What a bunch of hypocrites!
Even a poor Bantu education, along with a talent for tennis, eventually got him out of this abject poverty. He was awarded a scholarship to a US college and has written beautifully about his experiences. I’m trying to track down the sequel and wish I’d read this before Miriam’s Song.
I did not give 5 stars because it was amazing and I adored it or the writing was spectacular but because this is a story... just one story... of apartheid and jus how horrible it is, the lives those individuals and family lead, and how others can easily be fooled or lead by falsely reported conditions. This is 5 stars because this story needs to be read/heard. Yes there are horrific and triggering scenes but this man and many others have lived these situations... the least you can do is read it and try to have empathy and sympathy so we can stop and prevent these situations from continuing.
Nothing like reading about the horrors of oppression and what it can do to people. And, how a book written about apartheid during apartheid has relevance that persists to this day. The book is filled with details about life in a township, the system of apartheid, and what it took - and how unlikely it was - for a young black man to get out.
This book was exhausting to read but I’m so glad I finished. It was a brutal and powerful firsthand account of the atrocities of apartheid that will stay with me for a long time.
How does Britain and their fav accomplice America have time to simultaneously carry out 3 different oppressive apartheids AT THE SAME TIME??? Also Henry Kissinger mentioned seriously fuck that guy