“South African Suburbia: The Neighbours They All Pretend Don’t Live There,” by Ottilia Anna Maunganidze
[Originally posted on Huffington Post]
It started in early January this year (not really, more like in 1652 or thereabouts).
The one neighbour who acknowledges my presence and existence as her neighbour asked if I would be coming for the street barbeque at Number 23 the next day.
“Street barbeque? Ummm, I wasn’t invited,” I responded.
She let slip that “everyone” was invited in the Street WhatsApp Group.
Everyone, she said. Except I wasn’t in that street chat group nor had anyone asked to include me in it. I wasn’t surprised — several months earlier, the street I live on was permanently closed off and became a cul-de-sac following aunanimous decision by the residents on my Street. Unanimous implies everyonedecided.
I didn’t decide.
No one asked me.
No one told me.
I found out about the street closure the same way I found out about…
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