A story of a June 1976 survivor

THE AZANIAN / Trailer
Border Crossing
I
t was in September 1976 when I left my beloved
country, the warmth of my family, the loving
care of my mother and everything sweet about
Bushbuckridge.
All of that was going to disappear, maybe never to be
seen again. There was no time nor space for tears,
even if I could have tried, my eyes were dry, and that
night, should I have stayed, I would have probably
broken my virginity.
After we had done the risky and successful stowaway
on the train from Bushbuckridge to Malelane train
station, where getting caught could have resulted in
us aborting our mission and also in imprisonment
with additional charges, we took a taxi and it dropped
us with dimmed headlights about 400 metres from
the border. This was so we could walk towards the border.

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