I feel a little explanation is necessary. Until the end of February, I was destined for the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst and a few years in the British Army. I am now embarking on (I hope) a three-year stint in South Africa, giving lectures to tourists on the battlefields of the Anglo-Zulu War of 1879. Quite a change. Sitting here in a coffee shop outside London’s Liverpool Street Station, it still hasn’t quite sunk in.

The reactions I have received from friends and family having made this decision have varied from the vaguely positive to the “hmmm… interesting” as well as the strongly negative; one wouldn’t be surprised to learn that, while my peers tended (rather strongly) to the former, the older generation tended towards the latter. This division of opinion is, of course, less than surprising and is somewhat symptomatic of the rapidly changing world in which we live. It may be equally unsurprising to note that those of my friends who now find themselves as auditors, bankers, or any other form of City worker, are, having extolled the virtues of their large salaries, secretly jealous. Yet while the opinions of friends and family are often important and useful, there are some decisions one can only make on one’s own, and (perhaps more importantly) when one has nothing to tie one down. It took six somewhat troubled weeks for me to make this decision, but having made it, the relief and excitement is palpable. If I have made a mistake, the mistake shall be mine.

It is very easy to imagine that, in these days of rapid travel and communications, the 5,000-odd miles between Rorke’s Drift and Scotland won’t really matter. A combination of e-mails, Facebook (of course), internet banking, and non-stop flights will keep me in touch with friends and family and allow me to hang on to all that is important to me at home. It is easy and comforting to imagine that in three years time I shall return to the UK having maintained my friends and kept abreast of all their goings-on. I very much hope this will be the case, but I can’t help wondering if this will be the true and final test of the “Facebook friendship”.

And so, as I set off to South Africa, I leave behind my family, my friends, and the United Kingdom, my home of 23 years. I also leave a country with the fifth largest economy in the world which provides its citizens with free health care, relatively low taxes (or so we’re told) and few regulations (apparently). I am leaving these things and setting off to a country where statistics tell us there are 53 murders a day, including, to the world’s great detriment, the murder of my friend and employer, David Rattray. The big question, I suppose, is why I have decided to make such a move. Taking these things at face value and if one is to believe the reports of the great dangers of travelling in South Africa, it may appear that I have made rather a ridiculous trade. However, as with many things, face value tell a very one-sided story of what is probably Africa’s most promising country. Despite having collectively spent nearly a year in South Africa over the past five years, I still find the country somewhat perplexing. Many of the complexities of this place are often, affectionately or otherwise, explained away with the phrase: “that’s Africa for you”. It is an all-encompassing and often throw-away comment which is frequently used to explain many events which might otherwise be cause for concern.

However, the many social and cultural complexities of South Africa cannot be written off so casually. At first glance, the newly arrived tourist would be forgiven for thinking that the high numbers of unemployed black people, when compared to the far fewer numbers of generally much more wealthy white people, is an on-going symptom of the apartheid days. South Africa, in every way however, is no longer simply a country of black and white. Under the skin there is a somewhat confused mix of cultures, of skilled and unskilled and of rich and poor. To this day, for example, the cultural and social differences between the Zulu and the Xhosa peoples have maintained a certain distance between the two, even in government.

The efforts of the post-apartheid governments to off-set the problem of black economic inequality are beginning to take effect. The black petrol station attendants are not there because it is deemed demeaning for a white man, they are there because otherwise they would be unemployed. Black empowerment has led to a large number of upwardly mobile black people in all stages of society and this in turn seems to be encouraging the younger generations to advance themselves through education and their own determination. Driving through Zululand before school, tourists are often staggered by the huge numbers of clean and smartly dressed schoolchildren of all ages walking anything up to ten or fifteen miles to get to school on time. Compare this with the average British teenager, often unkempt and unwilling, and one has to wonder where British society has gone wrong.

Despite their desire to learn, these South African school children are by no means guaranteed a financially or even physically safe future. The high rate of often violent crime is well-known around the world, and is a result of the rampant unemployment and poverty and augmented by the post-apartheid collapse of effective policing. The townships around Johannesburg and every other city in South Africa are filled with young black men looking for work. The rural areas they have left are devoid of any real employment (other than tourism); but then of course, so are the townships. Those who are employed are either lucky or have been in the townships for many years; of the new arrivals who remain unemployed, some return home and some turn to crime.

The resulting high rates of crime are difficult to ignore, particularly if one gets lost in Johannesburg. But as with any other country in the world, common sense and a basic grasp of map-reading will keep the average tourist out of harm’s way in a country which has a huge amount to offer. Having said that, there are few South African families who haven’t been directly or indirectly affected by crime. It is also true to say that a high percentage of these crimes are committed by black people. This is, of course, a direct result of poverty which is not, in my opinion, a symptom of racism, but simply of relative numbers. Some white Africans will go on to say that black Africans are, to put it politely, lacking in drive: “that is Africa and that is why we’re here”. Well I am not yet in a position to comment. That’s why I’m here.