Land that bears my father’s footprints as a child

Today, you hit me right between the eyes – with both laughter and tears. Today would have been the birthday of my father, Sybrand Jacobus (Koot) Niemann, who would have turned 93 years old.

He was born at Bultfontein in the Free State, and his father and grandfather had been from Winburg. But my father moved to Vorstershoop in the Kalahari with his parents when he was a toddler.

The Winter 2022 issue of Platteland made my heart miss a beat, because there I saw the names Piet Plessis, Bray, Tosca and Vorstershoop on the cover. I paged to the article straightaway and started reading greedily, engrossed by the simplicity that was such an integral part of my father’s childhood.

He used to tell us how remote it was. The winters were icy – and they did not have shoes. On their way to school, to warm their bare feet, they would hop from one fresh cowpat to the next.

I don’t know how old he was when they had to move back to the Free State, or how long they were there before they moved to Pretoria to live with one of his older brothers in Doornrandjies. A family folly had led to them moving to the Kalahari to manage someone’s farm, but when they arrived, there was no farm.

Just this morning I was saying to my husband we should take a trip there one day to get a sense of the places that bear my father’s footprints as a child.

Herewith a photo of my father as a young boy with his sister and parents. It comes from a book about that region, but sadly I do not know the title of the book or who wrote it. Everyone has passed away already.

Thank you for the excellent articles in Platteland about remote dorpies that are home to ordinary people – the salt of the earth.

Ria (Niemann) Pieterse VEREENIGING