‘Nothing’s Changed’ is about Apartheid

‘Nothing’s Changed’ is about Apartheid.

Nothing’s Changed – Tatamkhulu Afrika: Context • This is an autobiographical poem. Tatamkhulu Afrika lived in Cape Town's District 6, which was then a thriving mixed-race inner-city community. People of all colours and beliefs lived together peacefully, and Afrika said he felt 'at home' there.  

• In the 1960s, as part of its policy of apartheid the government declared District 6 a 'whites-only' area, and began to evacuate the population. Over a period of years, the entire area was razed to the ground. Most of it has never been built on.  

• Tatamkhulu Afrika was brought up in Cape Town, South Africa, as a white South African. When he was a teenager, he found out that he was actually Egyptian-born - the child of an Arab father and a Turkish mother.

• The South African government began to classify every citizen by colour - white, black and coloured. Afrika turned down the chance to be classed as white, and chose instead to become a Muslim and be classified as coloured.

District Six.No board says it is:but my feet know,and my hands,

He recognises District

Six – his body tells him

that he is there.

Brash with glass, name flaring like a flag,it squatsin the grass and weeds,incipient Port Jackson trees:new, up-market, haute cuisine,guard t the gatepost,whites only inn.

“squats” – ugly word, suggests

the inn doesn’t belong there.

“glass” creates a barrier – he can see how

white people live but can’t

enter. “haute cuisine” – serves posh food.

No sign says it is:but we know where we belong.

There is no official

segregation now, but the

feeling of inequality lives

on.

I press my noseto the clear panes, know, before I see them, there will be,crushed ice white glass,linen falls,the single rose.

He is an outsider – he has to look

inside.

He knows that the restaurant

will be luxurious.

Down the road,working man’s cafe sellsbunny chows.Take it with you, eatit at a plastic table’s top,wipe your fingers on your jeans,spit a little on the floor:it’s in the bone.

The cafe serves basic food and has plastic tables. This contrasts sharply with the white people’s inn in the

previous stanza.

The inn and the cafe are close to each other – just “down the

road”. However, they are completely

separate.

I back from the glassboy again,leaving small mean Oof small mean mouth.Hands burnfor a stone, a bomb,to shiver down the glass,Nothing’s changed.

“Hands burn” – shows his anger. He wants to break the glass – he wants to remove the barrier between black

and white.The poem ends negatively. Even

when apartheid has ended, he does not see any change.