A love letter to Vrye Weekblad and a farewell to Afrikaans

I WRITE this in English, as my last Afrikaans article or any Afrikaans writing for that matter (on the documentary Mother City) appeared on February 14, 2025 in Vrye Weekblad.

Afrikaans will never be my Valentine again. And because everybody is replaceable, it’s certainly not an end-of-times scenario for anybody. Regrettably, there are no progressive Afrikaans publications left for me to write for; the remaining two Afrikaans outlets, Netwerk24 and Maroela Media, are simply too alt-right and right-wing for me.

It is thus a fait accompli that there is no place for a forward-thinking publication such as Vrye Weekblad under Afrikaners – the result is a monocultural identity of an insular tribe of people who cannot accommodate different ideas or opinions.

That tired cliché, “We are not all like that” does not wash with me. The number of open-minded Afrikaners of all colours and creeds probably won’t even be able to fill the DHL Stadium in Green Point.

It can accommodate 55 000 people, only a fraction of who bothered to subscribe to Vrye Weekblad – a tragedy, really. Supposed well-read Afrikaners have for decades bemoaned the lack of fresh voices with gravitas in their own language, but yet they sat back in silence as one publication after the other folded.

Dull echo chambers of uniformity

We had Die Suid-Afrikaan, Insig, Insig Boeke, De Kat (still limping along but as a type of glossy golf estate catalogue). All gone, because they were unable – out of a population of about 8 million people – to attract readers.

There comes a time when one has no sympathy left for such a group of people who evidently enjoy the dull echo chambers of uniformity. One armchair grandee wrote on Facebook that with Maroela Media and News24 the news reading market is saturated.

Indeed, he doesn’t realise how shocking such a statement is, as he is right. What does that tell you about Afrikaans readers? Then there are those who claim they get their news from overseas publications. Yes, so do I, but there was still scope to read dissident and interesting views in Afrikaans on Vrye Weekblad’s website.

As an aside, it’s not as if we are up our own arses, filled with hubris, thinking that we are the best journalists or commentators since sliced melktert. If readers could only have had a peep behind the scenes at our own constant insecurities, which we tried to overcome by writing (and designing) as best we could, our very best. When it comes to art and design, Angela Tuck, who worked seven days a week, produced a visual feast. Take a bow.

In my life I have freelanced for over 80 publications, locally and internationally (I sat down and wrote them all down). I started back in the day (late 1980s), writing the odd freelance story for Vrye Weekblad, while studying. I didn’t want to write in Afrikaans, it was the era of PW Botha, and I felt detribalised. But Vrye Weekblad was different.

Broadminded, without baggage

When it closed, because of a huge court case that crippled it financially, I decided to stop writing in Afrikaans. In the end, Vrye Weekblad was vindicated, but it was too late.

For decades I wrote in English, travelled the world for stories, spent some time in TV and had some gigs on various radio stations. Ten years ago, I returned to Afrikaans, writing columns, obituaries and articles for an Afrikaans Sunday publication, which made me realise how much I adored the language.

About two years ago, Max du Preez offered me a permanent gig, I could essentially write about anything I wanted to. He was one of the coolest editors to work for, broadminded, without the baggage that comes with a large corporate; a start-up publication, with new energy.

Gosh, it was fun. I interviewed people like Glynnis Breytenbach, Ina Paarman, James Dalton, Joan Hambidge, Mike Bolhuis, Marianne Thamm, too many to mention. Also, Esti Mellet-Mass, the local model who discovered Grace Jones in Paris.

I spent time in the Maitland cemetery; wow, that was fascinating, with over 500 000 people buried there. Our own necropolis.

A city of the dead ... I remember it was a freezing day and there I was, notebook, camera in hand, traipsing through the graveyard. I saw a woman sobbing at her son’s grave and saying in Afrikaans: “I asked you not to join the gangsters, I asked you, but no, look now, look now!” She fell onto the grave, with two men at her side, also crying.

It’s come full circle

Then I did a profile on Salt River, spent two days there, knocking on doors, talking to old-time residents, and capturing the spirit of the place. The Locomotive Hotel was a hotbed of gossip, with a jukebox. I played old Elvis songs and Johnny Cash and saw broken people sipping brandy and coke.

I also authored book reviews, stories on food, a piece on Tent City in Sea Point, where I spent a night, the charity Super Troopers, the Pride Shelter Trust, over 30 features. I walked in many streets, felt the rain on my face, I strode bravely in the heat, sweating, doing footwork, not just sitting behind my computer, but going to places to find stories. It’s all gone now, Vrye Weekblad is closing because it’s also evident that Afrikaans readers did not want to pay R75 a month for a weekly dose of off-beat stories and robust political opinions. And the finest book and lifestyle pages to boot.

I turn back the clock. In my early twenties my first freelance stories appeared in Vrye Weekblad 0.1 and now it’s come full circle. At 60, I’ve written my last Afrikaans article for them. A fitting end. What a blast, what a team, what an experience that any journalist would kill for.

I’ve started on a novel in English, possibly about an online newspaper and its travails, filled with characters who are drenched in life with all its setbacks and possibilities. There is a lot to do, but with a sore heart. Goodbye, Vrye Weekblad, you will forever be in my soul, my heart, my blood; I’ve lived my fucking dream.

To paraphrase the song “Girl I’m Gonna Miss You": “It's a tragedy for me to see, the dream is over, and I never will forget the day we met, Vrye Weekblad, I'm gonna miss you.” 

Goodnight, comrades.

♦ VWB ♦ 

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