The first thing I notice when I see the two of them is how gentle he is. He leads the little girl slowly and patiently to the water’s edge, guiding her every step as she makes her way tentatively across the Port Edward beach. And as she squeals and whoops at the thrilling chill of the waves, her little hands pulled tight up to her armpits, he speaks quietly and soothingly to her, encouraging her to go just a little deeper into the water. She holds onto him with all her might as he jumps her over the smaller waves and guides her safely under the big foamy ones. It is like she is riding on the back of a dolphin. She loves it.
The second thing that strikes me about the man and the little girl in the waves is that they are different races; an Indian man teaching a little white girl how to swim.
The spinning class at the Virgin Active gym is packed and charged with energy. Sweat flies from grimacing faces and an instructor yells out motivational challenges over the boom, boom, boom of the music: "Go for it!" "You can do it!" "Give me everything you’ve got!"
The cyclists respond with enthusiasm: "Yebo!" shouts one as she pushes her body to the limit; "Woohoo", responds a fellow class mate. "Shut up you bloody kaffir!"yells another.
It is a first birthday party of note. The whole family is there, an aunt even travelling to Durban from Johannesburg for the celebration. The little guy being celebrated is the king of the castle. He doesn’t take too kindly to all the photos being taken, but he loves all the love being given - and boy is there some love at this party. The Glenwood home is filled with peals of laughter, tears of joy, presents, food, music, speeches and more laughter. Watching the happy scene it is almost impossible to believe that just 12 months ago this little fellow was a ward of the state; given up for adoption by a young Mum unable to care for him herself. Now, he is loved beyond all measure by an adoptive family of all hues; a white Mum, an Indian Dad, a 58 year old Zulu gardener (as much a part of the birthday boy’s new family as anyone) who sits and feeds the baby whilst enjoying his celebratory glass of bubbly.
A man is raking up leaves in the backyard of his home in Umhlanga when out of nowhere he hears the yelling voice of his next door neighbour: ‘You coolies must go live in KwaMashu and Phoenix with the Africans which is what the government provided. That is where Indians belong. Umhlanga is only for the whites.’ The letter to the local newspaper from the distraught Indian man ends with these simple and painful words: "It is very stressful and hurtful and, although this letter is not directed at my neighbour I feel people should be informed. (I am) upset." How South African; that less than 20km’s from this bewildering display of racial hatred, a first birthday – complete with whites, Indians and Africans – is celebrated.
These 4 real life incidents all happened within weeks of one another; a swim in the sea, a workout in the gym, an interaction between neighbours and a kiddie’s birthday party. These ordinary, everyday events demonstrate just how far we have come as a nation - and what a long way we still have to go.
We have to fight racism with all we have. We have no option if we are to survive and thrive as a democracy. No national programme can help us to do this. That journey must begin in the depths of our own hearts as we struggle to allow new voices to rise over the old.
And we won’t overcome racism until we begin to live our daily lives honestly and openly with people of other races; until we begin to accept, respect – even perhaps enjoy - one another’s differences; as we regularly eat together, swim together, be neighbours to one another and workout together.
It is only in the constant familiarity of everyday life that we begin to see the heart of a person as opposed to just what they look or sound like: the man with whom I share a regular cup of coffee is not first-and-foremost an Indian - he is my friend; the lady squealing with excitement in the spinning class is not first-and-foremost a black woman, she is a mother of two and she works as a teacher.
It will take real effort. It will mean consciously picking away at the stitches that hold our old and outdated beliefs and views of one another together.
But we must do it in order for this country to succeed.
This article first appeared in The Mercury 20 February 2012
Steuart has done some 500 talks on South Africa's progress since 1994 and SA's prospects for the future' 
