Some moments linger long after they pass, quietly reshaping how we see the world. A morning round of golf, late in 2023, turned out to be one of those moments for me. By chance, I found myself playing alongside two young Afrikaans boys, barely in their teens, free-spirited and confident. They drove a cart from home to the course, enjoying themselves fully, speaking Afrikaans with pride. We were playing at Copperleaf, and I learned they attended Affies, a school outside the estate. I asked, “Why go so far when there’s a school right here?” One of them, Jaco, answered with a smile, “We are Afrikaans, sir.”
This boy carried his heritage with pride—no arrogance, no “young baas” superiority, just a calm self-assurance that struck me. He was free in a way I could only describe as unburdened. He was free from the weight of our country’s painful history and the everyday constraints so many of us carry. In Jaco’s world, it seemed that anything was possible. He had options, not just for a career, but for life experience. His parents valued his heritage, and his mother had even suggested he spend a year or two working on a cruise ship after school—an idea that opened my mind to possibilities I’d never considered before.
This was advice I’d never heard growing up. In my own upbringing, and in so many African homes, the focus was on “finding a job,” on security and stability, on achieving enough to keep food on the table and a roof overhead. We were not raised to dream beyond survival or to imagine ourselves as creators of our own futures. And as much as times have changed, I realized I hadn’t moved far from that mindset, even as I raise my own kids. I wanted a different path for them, but I was still working within the boundaries I’d been taught.
As I observed Jaco, I saw a kid with the freedom to approach life with confidence, curiosity, and a sense of adventure. He wasn’t told to just “get a job” or “play it safe”; he was shown that life could be about exploration and experience, even if it meant taking a “terrible job” on a cruise ship, far from the comforts he’d grown up with. His mother understood that there’s wisdom to be gained outside the familiar, that life should include challenges, diversity, and discovery. Working on a cruise ship, with long hours and disciplined schedules, would be hard work, but Jaco would gain something invaluable: a broadened outlook, a chance to connect with people of many cultures, and an opportunity to see the world.
I saw a glimpse of what I want for my children. Not privilege, but possibility. I want my children to grow up proud of their heritage, fluent in their own language, confident enough to see beyond the limitations that have been handed down to us. We can take something from Jaco’s story, but not to glorify whiteness or privilege. It’s to recognize what a free mind looks like, and to imagine that future for our kids—one where they don’t just survive, but thrive. In Setswana, we say, “Botlhale jwa phala bo tswa phalaneng.” A big antelope learns from a smaller one. In Jaco, I saw what it means to learn from the youth. Sometimes, they show us what is possible, reminding us of the dreams we didn’t dare to have for ourselves.
As we continued playing, I started to feel fatigue. At one point, Jaco suggested I take a moment to breathe and let go of any negative mindset that might be creeping in. I don’t remember his exact words, but I remember the maturity, the mindfulness he expressed so effortlessly. Here was a teenager who already understood self-awareness and the power of a positive mindset, ideas that had only come onto my radar earlier that year. It became clearer to me why I’m questioning traditional schooling for my kids. Jaco’s education wasn’t limited to textbooks; he was learning self-respect, responsibility, pride in his roots, and mindfulness from both his family and community.
Jaco’s family might be privileged, but they’ve given him more than comfort—they’ve given him a mindset that will allow him to embrace life without fear. And that’s a gift I want to give my own children. Imagine a future where young Africans, proud and self-assured, carry their heritage with dignity and step into the world with a mindset of abundance, free from the limiting beliefs of survival alone. It’s time to break the generational cycle, to let go of the old burdens and fears we were raised with, and to make room for our children’s dreams.
Our children don’t need to inherit our trauma; they need to inherit possibility. They need the freedom to learn, to make mistakes, to work hard, and to discover themselves in their own way. Let’s give them the space to create and explore, to imagine themselves as leaders, creators, and visionaries who shape their own futures.
In Jaco, I witnessed a glimpse of that future—a future of proud, grounded African youth who can see the world without the weight of the past holding them back. A future where the diversity of our experiences and ideas shapes a collective vision of African abundance, where our children move through the world as free as antelope on open plains, learning from one another, with a spirit unconfined.