After my visits to Orania in late December 2025 and early January 2026, I left the town having to seriously consider my own sub conscious prejudices about race.
I don’t consider myself to be part of the Superior Race, but being white, I am “guilty” by association. Not something I’ve ever thought too hard about to be honest, but there are enough White Supremacist stories that make it to the news that you can’t avoid the reality that these folks exist. We all fondly remember the AWB’s Eugene Terblanche falling off his horse.
As I drove through town towards the exit (or back to South Africa as they would like it to be), on the untarred road with unaffixed speedbumps made from old farm conveyor belts, I was struck by a thought: how can you claim to be the Superior Race when you live like this?
To put it simply, a white boy from the city, born in a country that struggles with it’s racist past, during a time when racism was still the law, went to a Whites Only community in the Platteland, and left the town less racist.
Here’s the story that I wrote, which I only shared with a few people initially, but decided it’s time anyone who is interested gets a chance to read it:
As Advertised
An Afrikaner only town built on a private farm bought by the Boshoff brothers I don’t know when, and popularised by the likes of Pieter Mulder (FF+) and Betsy Verwoerd (widow of HF), amongst others.
At First Glance
Whites only. No one in town will even pretend it’s otherwise. I don’t get the feeling you will be beaten if you dare to enter with a brown skin, but I think you will be made to feel uncomfortable enough that you will leave of your own accord. The gates are not manned, and tourists are very welcome, provided you arrive with the correct skin tone. English is spoken fairly often when needed, but Afrikaans is dominant for obvious reasons.
For a very white town there are a lot of folks walking around with very dark skin, thanks to the old “Brandy Tan.”
It seems pleasant enough. People looking after their own kind. I don’t agree with it, but I agree with their right to do it.
And they farm. These people can farm. And not all farms fall within the boundaries of Orania, or have any association at all aside from geography. Mielies and Pecans. High density, well planned, intensive commercial farming. The Northern Cape is not easy land to farm, but with the help of the Orange River and some smart irrigation practices, they make it work. They make it work very well. Die Boer boer.
Having just returned from Zimbabwe there are few things more heartbreaking to see than a farm lying fallow while the people nearby are hungry. These folks do not waste an inch of land. Credit where credit is due.
The white bus driver taking the white granny to the white owned supermarket with white cashiers, shelf stockers, bakers and cleaners.
The bus fills up at the white owned No Name Brand petrol station, staffed entirely by white Pomp Joggies.
The Oom selling wood moved here 2 years ago from Paarl, after having spent 14 years in Melkbosstrand before that. He has 3 boys and he wants them “in the right school.” Orania already has 2 schools. Volkskool and CVO. CVO has a bus:
The books available to read in our chalet speak towards self determination and God:
And Die Oewer Hotel resort we are staying in is stunning. A double story log cabin style hotel, and multiple log cabin chalets, set along the banks of the Orange River, full of green grass and shady trees:
Underneath the Surface
Bizarre, backwards, crime ridden and more than likely incestuous.
Orania residents love to claim there is no crime. What they mean is there is almost no petty crime. Houses are left unlocked, laptops are left in cars (we did it too). If you forget your phone somewhere, you’ll get it back. There was no need to check us into our chalet. I have the “right” surname on my email, and my bill was paid, so the chalet was just left unlocked with the keys on the kitchen counter. We arrived on a Sunday anyway, a day where most residents prefer not to work if possible, as they observe their sabbath.
But the residents neglect to mention the sex offenders and the child abusers. The “construction companies” disappearing with deposits or leaving building sites incomplete once the full amount is received. The unpaid labourers. The lack of adherence to South African law. Private land or not, they are still within the boundaries of South Africa.
The laws are enforced at will in Orania. You do not need to licence your car at the Traffic Department. You do not need to be a certain age or possess a valid driver’s licence to drive in Orania. The rules of the road are pretty simple, and mostly unspoken: Keep left. Drive slowly. And wave to every other passing driver.
Unsurprisingly, using the word Kaffir is not breaking any rules. Nor is it frowned upon. Houtkop, Boy and Aapie are standard phrases.
Several years ago a terrible story made the news in South Africa about a father who was severely beating his children. Mostly with a garden hose, in plain sight of the neighbours. This went on for several years, and no one took action. I don’t recall the specific details, but the matter eventually reached the South African Police, and the children were rescued.
In the evening we lit a memorial fire for Klarrisa, in a purpose built monument along the river
19 years old. Drowned in the river during Lockdown after spending the day drinking Mampoer with “2 older men.” The one has fled town, the other remains. It took 2 weeks to find her body. It was found just below the bridge downstream in a spot where anyone with a basic understanding of river currents (you know, the South African Police) would have looked. There she lay. Dead, bloated, naked and alone. There was no further investigation.
The story goes that her parents have been trying to sell their house and leave town ever since she died. But there are no buyers.
The Family
I met a family. Not all blood related but all living and working together. Out of genuine concern for their safety, I won’t provide much in terms of identifying information.
They rent a 3 bedroom house in Orania for R12 500 a month. Middle of nowhere, Northern Cape. For context we rent a 3 bedroom house in a security estate for R17 000 a month. Stellenbosch. Western Cape.
I met them next to the river. They told me they are part of the Middle Class that is being forced out of Orania by The Rich. They were waiting for a phone call for a virtual interview in the hopes of finding a new job, as far away from Orania as possible.
They were drinking brandy from a cooler box, mixed with Pepsi. Their shirts were full of holes. They worked as construction labourers and cleaners in Orania and surrounding towns. The British hairs on my neck stood up.
But they were good people for the most part, in spite of some seriously backwards views on life. I know this from the way they treated their dogs that they had brought with them for a swim in the river. And the way their dogs loved them in return. Dogs always know.
They told me some stories. Man, they told me a lot of stories. I am certain at least 50% of it was embellished bullshit, but I also know from experience that often where there is smoke, there is fire.
Disgruntled residents who pay their fair share likely have differing opinions to many others about town. So take it from where it comes. They are ready to flee. In spite of the pre-interview brandy drinking, they got the job. They were very happy. We were genuinely happy for them. At the end of the month they will move to a farm many miles away and pay R1800 a month for their farm house. Probably not the type of people I would hire in my office, but if I ever need a certified forklift driver to run a warehouse on a remote farm, I know who to ask.
The one lady actually said “I miss seeing black people in the street.” My ears pricked up at the sound of possible liberalism in Orania. “When I see a white person working in the garden, I know he is not earning what he is worth.” So you don’t miss black people, you miss cheap labour? And you feel white people should earn more than black people for doing the same job? I was disappointed, but not surprised.
They spoke of The Council and The Free Masons. Apparently “99% of the Dorp is dominated by The Free Masons.” Especially The Council: The group who run the community. I know little of The Masons, but I do know they have a less than stellar reputation.
One of the family’s friends is a cleaner at The Mason Lodge. It has a name I can’t recall unfortunately. Rooms with single beds with attached handcuffs. The town’s daughters provided as offerings to The Council and The Rich. Allegedly. Although this sounds like fairly standard Mason practice.
The Boshoff’s (the land owners) are also allegedly notoriously incestuous, going back generations. “Jy trou met jou sussie of jou niggie. Dit pla hulle glad nie, hulle is so groot gemaak.”
The town has changed, they say. “50% of the town speaks bloody English now.” After some playful prodding from a Rooinek, it turns out their issue is not with native English speakers, but the Colonial English responsible for the Boer War atrocities. Although it was a long time ago, I actually understand the gripe. Some serious crimes were committed, and The Empire has never issued a formal apology.
Apparently 1400 people have left the town in recent years, from a population of 3000. I never saw any official statistics, this is simply information relayed to me by my new resident friends.
Oom Paul
It was in the mainstream news recently. Oom Paul paraded down to Orania from Pretoria.
My first thought was: I didn’t know he was removed from Church Square? He wasn’t. They spent R10 million to build and transport a replica to be erected in the new part of town.
This has created some serious discord in the town. Where did the R10 million come from? And why?
Orania is known for taking over many of the historical statues removed from public spaces around South Africa. A practice appreciated by many, myself included. History might be bleak, but it must never be forgotten.
And it’s not just the usual suspects. Verwoerd, Strijdom, an existing bust of Paul Kruger. But also a monument to the Irish Volunteers. It seems there is space to commemorate anyone who fought against the English.
But back to the New Oom Paul. The question many have is: hoekom? He was not removed from Church Square, but he probably will be one day. We could have waited. And whose money was used? Is this just a vanity and publicity project?
And then I discovered a part of Afrikaans history and culture I was not aware of. Paul Kruger is seen by many as a “veraaier.” A man who betrayed The Afrikaners in favour of the British, and died in exile.
The brief research I have done around the topic shows this is not entirely true, however the belief most definitely exists among many folk.
Which brings about the more important question from the townsfolk: if we truly stand together as an Afrikaans town/Nation, why did we choose a traitor to represent us, and parade across the country at the expense of the community?
The Kids
I feel there are few greater blessings in life than to have the privilege of growing up in a farming community. The outdoors, the experiences, the life long friendships. But Orania isn’t just any farming community.
There are lots of children of all ages in Orania. And I can’t help but feel sorry for them. Most kids grow up blissfully colour blind. We only develop our prejudices later in life. One of my mom’s favourite jokes is about the Tannie who asks her little boy who wants to invite his kindergarten friend over: “Is your friend Andrew black or white?” To which the little boy responds “I don’t know, I’ll ask him tomorrow.”
Growing up in isolation is not healthy, and puts you at a distinct disadvantage later in life. Like it or not, there are brown and yellow people all over the world, once you leave Orania, and this will never change.
If you choose to live out your retirement years, reminiscing about the “good old days”, amongst your own people along the river banks, that is your prerogative. You also have any one of the 13 churches in Orania to occupy your time if fishing is not your thing. But why willingly disadvantage your own offspring?
“The schools are good, and follow our belief system” they will say. Yes, but education in isolation is just theory, and most of us know how far theory gets you without experience.
It is bizarre to myself and many others to isolate those that do not have a choice in the matter.
An Unexpected Tangent
Something happened to me as we were packing up that could have happened to anyone, anywhere. I fell through the stairs on my way out. I got some scratches on my knees and a cut on my elbow, but because I am so tall I landed on my feet, and the incident could be written off as a minor mishap. It probably does bring the hotel’s maintenance practices into question, but rather me than someone’s Oupa or Ouma.
I travel the world like many, making sure I don’t behave like an “American Idiot.” My first thought was not to sue, but it was still a long drive home with a sleepy wife, and thoughts of liability and responsibility crept into my head.
This opened up a mental can of worms for me. Does Orania even qualify for public liability insurance, seeing as they don’t allow the vast majority of the South African public into their town? Who would I sue? Die Oewer Hotel? The town of Orania? The Boshoff’s?
And how would I approach this? Would I need to open a police case in nearby Hopetown, telling them I willingly visited a wannabe independent whites-only town, took an unexpected fall, and now want the assistance of South African law and its people to assist me in escalating the matter?
Imagine my demographically representative insurance company having to sit around a table and review this matter with a straight face?
Although I am sure I would not struggle to find a lawyer willing to pursue anyone and everyone in the enclave. Orania is not short of opponents.
The Reputation
Unsurprisingly, the town struggles with its reputation. Not just nationally and internationally, but in the immediate area.
“They don’t respect us in Hopetown when they know we are from Orania.” Bloody hell! But you don’t respect them! My immediate first thought that I wisely kept to myself.
“If you leave here in an ambulance and end up in hospital in Hopetown, it is only your body that will come back. They leave you to die.”
A very, very bold statement. Doctors and nurses are held to a higher standard than the rest of us. In fact I think they are bound by oath to treat life before anything else, regardless of the patient or the circumstances.
I don’t know if there is any truth in this statement, but at the end of the day doctors and nurses are still people. Can you imagine being forced to interact with a patient who suddenly wants your professional help, who under any other circumstances would likely not even look you in the eye, let alone shake your hand or invite you in for tea?
Funny how they want to be an independent nation, until it is no longer convenient for them. Their own purpose built hospital stands empty. No equipment and no doctors or nurses. Suddenly a South African Government hospital doesn’t seem so bad. But only when convenient of course.
A Tarnished Legacy
Is this what Afrikaners are like?
I have spent my entire life living in either Pretoria or Stellenbosch, two historically Afrikaans settlements. I can answer this question with conviction: absolutely bloody not!
Orania is a pimple in the desert that represents nothing more than its own residents’ far right belief system, misinterpreted religious principles and barbaric moral values. I’m sure there are a minority of external supporters and benefactors, but I feel this number will always remain small.
Although there have been a lot of individuals and groups, including many Afrikaners, I believe the EFF have been the most vocal about their opposition to the town. I think it is the first time in my life I have agreed with something that emanated from the mouth of an EFF member: they are racist!
But they forget the one distinct advantage that Orania provides to the rest of us. They don’t pretend to be otherwise. They do not lurk in senior management, or operate as business owners, or occupy positions of power outside of Orania, where they can enforce their prejudices silently and without consequence.
They have labeled themselves. They have inadvertently warned us. And they have for the most part removed themselves from society, to the northern banks of the Orange River.
In fact they should be made to wear a warning sign whenever they go “Dorp toe” in Hopetown or Kimberely. Although there is a part of me that knows a warning sign is not necessary, as the Brandy Tan will prove sufficient.
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Just a shout out to my friend in the neighbourhood who said I should have titled this post “Bo Blink, Onder Stink.”
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