On 10 May 2008, I spent better part of the day and all night at the O R Tambo International Airport, Johannesburg, as a transit passenger while traveling from Windhoek headed for home, Dar-es-Salaam. Despite 20-plus hours of waiting many of us chose to stay inside the airport building, because getting out would require a visa which would cost USD 50. Besides one would need to take taxi and a hotel room, which shall all cost quite a bit. So the night passed and soon we woke up in a new day, a bit crampy after stretching out on thinly-padded airport seats.
Our plane, SAA 737-800 jet, was called and by 11 a.m. we were on our way. It's only when I watched the news that evening and subsequent days that I knew we'd been right there in the danger zone when black South Africans rose up in arms against their brothers who had come for jobs in what to them were greener pastures. The picture below seems to say it all.
Such ingratitude after what the rest of Africa did for freedom fighters until they attained their independence, logic lacks.
God bless us all.
Sunday, Bloody Sunday 
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