OPINION: A city may not belong to any one individual, but it belongs to all of us who call it home.
NOT TOO long ago, I had the pleasure of being visited by someone who once had lived here but had not been to our ‘fair’ city for quite a number of years, and another who had never ever been to Kimberley. Over the course of the few weeks that we travelled in and around the city I listened to the comments about the city and its people.
Recently, while corresponding with this couple, we discussed the possibility of them giving their honest opinions about our city; so here is an ‘insider-outsider’s’ perspective on the City that Sparkles.
The writer, Karen Gamba calls the following opinion piece, ‘Rediscovering Kimberley: A Journey of Perspective and Renewal’
Karen writes: In the wake of the profound upheaval of the Covid-19 pandemic, I embarked on a poignant journey back to my roots, my hometown of Kimberley. It had been years since I had set foot in the place where I was born, attended high school, and witnessed the transformative years of my youth.
Kimberley held a treasure trove of cherished memories for me, steeped in a rich history that had always captivated my imagination. The diamond rush, the tumultuous wars, and the way Kimberley’s true jewels, its people, had spread their brilliance across the globe – these were the stories I had grown up with.
However, as I wandered the familiar streets on my recent visit, a deep sense of disheartenment washed over me. The town that had once gleamed with pride and history now bore the scars of neglect and time’s passage. I had been warned about the realities of daily life in Kimberley: the sporadic electricity cuts, the abrupt water shortages, and the seemingly constant internet outages.
Yet, it was not until I found myself standing in the shower with soap in my eyes, shivering in the darkness, that I truly grasped the extent of the challenges my family faced daily.
In my frustration, I sought refuge in my work, only to be thwarted by the inability to log onto the internet due to cable theft – an occurrence that seemed almost routine to my family. My outrage mounted, and I couldn’t help but wonder how people endured such conditions. Had my years abroad spoiled me to the comforts of modern living? My brother, sensing my exasperation, took me on a drive through the town with its littered, unkempt streets with potholes aplenty. With each jolt and bump, my anger grew.
How could anyone tolerate this?
It was during this ride that I overheard a group of locals discussing the alarming rise in crime in Kimberley. Their words cut deep, contrasting starkly with my fond memories of walking through Square Hill Park with my best friend, Janine, without a care in the world. We had never feared for our safety back then.
But as I learned more about the current crime rates and observed the dilapidated infrastructure, my heart ached. I felt a profound sense of grief for my beloved city, once a haven of safety and prosperity, now grappling with uncertainty.
Just as I was on the brink of despair, my husband surprised us with a visit. An American, he had grown up worlds apart from Kimberley, in a vastly different context. It was his first experience of my hometown, and I watched him closely, with a sense of shame and trepidation. How would he react to this crumbling relic of a town?
To my amazement, he was captivated.
We explored Kimberley’s museums, the iconic Big Hole, the sites of historical significance, and even my childhood haunts. He was entranced by the city’s rich heritage and historical significance. While I complained about the wi-fi and water supply, he soaked in everything Kimberley had to offer – the warmth of its people, the golden sunshine, and yes, even the potholes.
One evening, as we sat in my parents’ garden, he said, “You are so lucky to have grown up here. What a beautiful, wonderful place. I cannot wait to come back.”
His words left me speechless.
In that moment, I realised that perhaps what Kimberley needed most was a shift in perspective. If its residents and leaders could see the city through my husband’s eyes – the beauty, the potential, and the pride he felt in being there – then there was hope for renewal. My mindset shifted, and I became determined to do my bit to help rekindle the city’s former glory.
Sometimes, the path to revival is as simple as taking pride in one’s home, looking out for neighbours, and building a sense of community. Even small acts, like picking up a piece of litter that isn’t yours, can contribute to the greater good. After all, a city may not belong to any one individual, but it belongs to all of us who call it home.
My brief hiatus from the constant hum of my cellphone and laptop allowed me to see that anything is possible when we come together as neighbours, as communities, as people who care deeply about Kimberley. I owe a debt of gratitude to my husband for opening my eyes to the city’s enduring beauty, its resilient people, and its untapped potential. I am eager and excited to return to my hometown, not as a critic, but as a passionate advocate for its revival.
Kimberley, with all its imperfections, is a gem worth preserving and nurturing, and I am committed to being a part of that journey.
• Karen Gamba is the award-winning CEO and co-founder of ExV, a global PR Agency with offices in New York, Hong Kong, and Atlanta. She has contributed to Forbes and has been featured on FOX, CBS, and NBC. After living and working in New York City for 20 years, and currently based in Hong Kong, Karen says she will always call Kimberley home.
