I thought the charcoal would do it, but what a fool I was. They pointed at me and roared with laughter. “Hey, come and see the vokken whitey who wants to be like us!”

Jaapie was not amused. “You want to come here, with your blerry white liberal crap and share in our suffering, hey? Vok off, man. Go bek to your boere mummy, asshole.”

I tried to explain about the white guilt, the desire to make amends, but they just saw me as a fat, balding, middle-aged intrusion into their collective hatred.