𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍 ─ 𝐑. 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒

≻Part 2

"So," you addressed Ryan as the two of you leisurely strolled through the bustling streets of the surrounding area just outside the central business district of Cape Town, "Are you enjoying Cape Town so far?"

The both of you had come to an agreement that you would forfeit the bet and pay for lunch, just so that you could sneak out of the museum and get away from your meddlesome friends.

(Y/B/F) and Brendon were unbelievable; their attempts to get in between the two of you carried on through the beginning of the scavenger hunt – with (Y/B/F) asking you stupid questions like what you needed to study for your exam in six months time and Brendon pestering Ryan for his thoughts on what songs should be on their setlist for their concert at the end of the trip – until you got fed up and decided to ditch the museum and go for a walk instead.

"Oh yeah," he answered with an enthusiastic smile, "I'm having the greatest time! I mean, we all are," he chuckled nervously and looked down at the sidewalk, "but me especially."

"Good to hear," you playfully nudged him with your elbow, shooting him a smile that he oh so eagerly returned.

The two of you were strolling past a building that had a mural painted on its side and Ryan halted as he pointed at the portrait of a black, afro-haired woman raising a closed fist into the air. The fist was surrounded by a strikingly yellow circle, and it was quite obviously the focus of the mural.

"Hey, I've seen this symbol a couple times and I've been meaning to ask you... what does it mean?"

You couldn't stop the wide grin that spread across your face as you sauntered over to the mural; Ryan trailed closely behind you.

"So you obviously know that the Apartheid era lasted from 1948 to 1994," you tilted your head to address Ryan, who nodded in confirmation, "One of the most hated Apartheid laws was the Pass Law. It allowed the government to control the influx of black men into the cities by stating that all of them had to carry a pass, and only those carrying said passes were allowed access into urban areas. Oh, and passes were only allocated to those who found employment in the city."

You took a few steps forward and ran your fingers along the paint on the wall. "Before the 50s, only black men were required to carry passes but then in 1952, the government announced that black women would also have to carry them. Understandably, that did not go down well with the masses," you chuckled shortly, "The idea began in 1955 at a meeting of the Federation of South African Women, where a suggestion was made: 'Let us go to Pretoria – the nation's capital – ourselves and protest to the Government against laws that oppress us.'," you paused, smiling at the thought.

"So they did?" A wide-eyed, super concentrated Ryan queried, unconsciously stepping closer to you.

You nodded proudly and turned to smile at the musician, raising one brow. "On the 9th of August, over 20 000 women of all races marched in unison to the Union Buildings in Pretoria to hand over a petition to the then prime minister, Hans Strijdom. Leading the march were Lilian Ngoyi and Albertina Sisulu, Helen Joseph, and Sophia Williams-De Bruyn, who were black, white, and coloured, respectively. So as representatives of each race group in South Africa, they carried the petition for presentation to the Prime Minister. But being the coward that he was," you growled, grinding your teeth, "when he caught wind that 20 000 boss-ass, strong women were coming for him, he arranged to be somewhere else so he wouldn't have to accept the petition from a 'multicultural group of women', so in his place, it was accepted by his secretary."