SOUTH AFRICA. September 2009. Travelling for weeks with my Father was a priceless opportunity that could best be appreciated far from the familiar comforts of home. The South Africa we were shown was not so much different from home, however, and clearly a world apart from the East Africa I had come to know so well twenty years before. The plane from Jo'burg to Capetown takes you high across a vast plain of modern cultivation and paved roads. Black men seemingly rule the visible government and no longer step off the sidewalk to let Whites pass. But the true Apartheid; the apartheid of money, and who controls its movement, never ended. With a plague of HIV that spans generations, and the inability to penetrate the halls of economic power, the life spans and prosperity for the Black and Coloured are notably lower now than they were before Mandela's emancipation.

Milton Freidman's dark hand was here too. It is always easy to recognize. Whenever and wherever you see the endless spirals of razor wire, and the heavily barred windows that create, ironically, a prison within a prison, you know the "free" market has done it brutal work again to parse the lives of men into classes miles apart for no other reason than the melanin in their skin.

ACROCINUS