Pilot's Message

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Dreams fast forward tomorrow or the future, a bright future because nobody watches Orange Is the New Black or a jail documentary and wish to occupy a space made from steel and monitored by uniforms and guns. Being homeless and combing thrash cans is also, not anybody’s dream.

That is why most dreams are about being rich and famous.  Actresses and singers might marry soccer stars like David Beckham, royalty like the Prince of Monaco, Prince Harry of England, and Indian film royalty like the Kapoors and Bachchans.
However, there is something besides money, that can spark a dream.  Pilot uniforms and the blue sky sparked mine.  I would sit in the shade at home in Durban and watch planes take off and land from the airport, fifteen minutes away.  I had fantasies about where they had been and where they were flying to.

I upgraded my fantasy and decided that I would be a pilot and lord over deserts and valleys, rivers and oceans. I would drive carefully to avoid hitting the CN Tower in Toronto or Tour Eiffel in Paris.  My dream was also nurtured by vanity.  I looked forward to pulling the pilot’s black bag on gleaming airport floors, smiling because of people’s adoration. ‘She is a pilot.’  
My dream was out off line because there were no women pilots then, let alone black women.  I grew up in South Africa, a country notorious for legalized racism. 

The dream is long gone but there is a consolation.  The pilot’s bag.  I smile every time I see it in a luggage store.  Ordinary people like me can buy it and pull it around airports.

‘Call me Madame Pilot’.

‘In your dreams!’

By:  Nonqaba waka Msimang.

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