Fire
I cannot write without somehow paying tribute the fire that ravaged the mountains of Cape Town this last week and the men and women who worked tirelessly to fight the flames and save the homes, families and animals affected. I also want to extend my condolences to the families of Nazeem Davies and Bees Marais…I am very sorry for your loss. Mountain fires are a way of life here in Cape Town and we all accept and expect them in a way at this time of the year, when it is dry and the South Easter blows, but I think we have to agree that the fires this last week affected us on a grand scale and seemed relentless. On Tuesday night, after that very very hot day, I lay in bed listening as the wind picked up and I was sure I could smell smoke through my open window. I went outside, it was about two in the morning, and I saw many lights on in many of the houses. I think many Scarbarians were also listening and waiting attentively. A vague orange glow seemed to be coming from over the mountain. I went back inside and went online to try and find out what was going on and saw via Twitter and Facebook the streams of posts and photos regarding the fires in Noordhoek, Kalk Bay, Muizenberg, Clovelly, Tokai, Hout Bay and Constantia. Friends were evacuating their homes and the fire seemed out of control. I felt quite helpless watching these posts on my stream and my own memories around being evacuated when there was a fire here in Scarborough seven years ago were evoked. In 2008, when I was 38 weeks pregnant with my youngest daughter, a fire ripped through Scarborough, burning homes. I was visiting a friend here in the village with my children on the day for an afternoon play but it soon became evident that staying put was not a good idea. The fire seemed to be advancing very quickly and had already engulfed some homes, the mountain was ablaze and Scarborough filled with smoke. We went down to the beach where we also slowly became smoked out, it eventually became difficult to breathe. There we were, two mothers, on the beach, no car (her husband was up the mountain fighting the flames, mine was playing a concert – he is a musician) , with 5 children, one of us pregnant, getting smoked out. Eventually we were spotted by a sympathetic paramedic who drove us to Kommetjie where we ate pizzas with our sooty faced children until family and friends could come and collect us. That evening we could return to Scarborough and thankfully neither of our homes had burnt down – although other friends were not as lucky. But I remember the thin trickle of black dust that seemed to rain down on us after that, covering everything. Around two weeks later, I gave birth to a sweet baby girl – Kaira, after 4 hours of labour, at home. Life goes on, I...
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