Cracking the code part two.

As a single mother to a sickly child, my mom worked very hard. In my second year of school I was sent off to Durban to live with family as my mother could not look after me and provide for me. I used to sit in Church on Sunday mornings bored out of my skull and had no idea what was going on, nor did I much care.

I was born and raised as a Catholic. Life went on until age twelve, I was informed that I had never been confirmed as a Catholic and I would be going to Catechism classes. I enjoyed them; I was also an altar boy and a choir boy.

The priest was a cool guy and everyone enjoyed the classes. I did too until one day when the priest used the F*&$ word! I was shocked as this was not behaviour or language I expected from a man of God. I asked him why he swore, he explained to me that it was okay to swear as long as it was not at someone. In other words, it's okay to say "It's F..king hot today", but not if you say "F.. You!"... Didn't make much sense to me at the time and still doesn't.

Also when the altar boys or choir group had a braai, he would drink beer and smoke a cigarette. At the tender age of twelve this freaked me out, these guys were God’s right hand men, they should not be swearing, smoking and drinking. I eventually finished the classes; I think I was round about 14 or so at the time. I walked into my bedroom tossed the certificate on the bed and vowed never to go to church again!

As a young, easily influenced young man, this was in my opinion at the time my introduction into the wonderful world of hypocrisy and I was having no part of it.