by For me, having a worldliness view means understanding history. I knew I needed to start by visiting Johannesburg and confronting the soul of South Africa—its past struggles, triumphs, and ongoing journey toward justice. Two places stand out as pillars of remembrance and reflection: the Apartheid Museum and Constitution Hill. Each location, in its own powerful way, tells the story of a nation once torn by racial division, and now, striving to heal and rebuild. Together, they offered me not just facts and exhibits, but an emotional experience I will never forget, and felt I could move forward in my journey through the continent having a better understanding of its history.
Apartheid Museum: Walking Through History
Stepping into the Apartheid Museum was like walking through the very bones of South Africa’s painful past. The design is stark, almost chilling—its concrete pillars and rusted bars mimicking the structures of oppression. At the entrance, your ticket randomly designates you as “white” or “non-white,” a sobering exercise in forced identity. I was labeled non-white, and the path I was assigned showed me firsthand how deeply segregation invaded every aspect of life.
The museum doesn’t shy away from truth. It confronts you with the systemic cruelty of apartheid, where laws were used to dehumanize and control the majority Black population. Graphic images, powerful video clips, and personal testimonies line the halls. I read books of “how to serve the white man”, and the only education Africans received. I watched a video of police brutality during the 1976 Soweto Uprising and felt my stomach turn. I stood silently in a room filled with nooses, each one symbolizing a political prisoner executed during apartheid. I read heartbreaking letters from loved ones who never got to say goodbye.
But the museum is not just about oppression—it’s about resilience. It honors those who fought for dignity and justice. I lingered by the exhibits on Nelson Mandela, Steve Biko, and ordinary citizens who joined the fight, often at great personal cost. The African race suffered terribly under apartheid, but the strength and spirit of the people rise throughout the museum. There is sadness here, yes—but also immense pride. By the time I reached the final gallery, which celebrates the birth of democracy in 1994, let me repeat that, 1994, I had walked through decades of trauma—but also transformation. The Apartheid Museum doesn’t ask for pity. It demands understanding. It taught me that remembering history—honestly, even painfully—is the first step to preventing it from repeating.
Constitution Hill
Walking the grounds of Constitution Hill is not just a visit—it’s an immersion into the anguish and resilience of South Africa’s fight for justice. Perched on the highest ridge overlooking Johannesburg, Constitution Hill was originally built as a military fort—designed not to protect the people, but to control them. The remnants of the Prison echo with the cries and whispers of those who passed through its gates. Political prisoners, freedom fighters, students, and ordinary citizens—many unjustly detained—suffered within its walls under a regime bent on dehumanization. The notorious prison at Constitution Hill was shut down in 1983 after years of public outcry. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that I was in elementary school, and people in the world were still denied basic human rights.
Prisoners were forced to sleep on cold cement floors, often without blankets. Sanitation was a cruel afterthought—communal toilets overflowed, and bathing was a public humiliation. Prisoners consisted of all races including Afrikaners, woman and children. Colonizers ignored ethnic boundaries when drawing borders, causing long term conflict. Black prisoners received worse treatment than white ones, their food rations meager. Whites received .60 cents of food a day, Asians .30 cents and Africans received .10 cents of food rations a day or scraps of moldy food. Their punishment was more severe than others. The Isolation cells whispered people’s pain. It’s chilling to think that some endured weeks in those boxes, cut off from light, conversation, and dignity. Most didn’t survive. They were given salt water and rice for food and a person normally couldn’t survive for more than a week. If sent to isolation, a person knew they most likely wouldn’t return.
I stood in front of a cell that once confined Nelson Mandela & Gandhi. I learned they only survived because they were detained at this site for less than two weeks and were separated from the rest of the prisoners because of their high profile. Despite relentless psychological warfare and suffering too, they organized, educated one another, and nurtured a dream of equality and freedom. Everyday people were arrested under apartheid laws for offenses as minor as not carrying a pass, or a female black woman looking “too pretty” on her wedding day. All prisoners, criminal or non criminal were cramped together in harsh, conditions designed to break the spirit rather than rehabilitate. I hope Mandela & Gandhi were able to pass along their strength to others.
But Constitution Hill is not just about punishment. It’s about transformation. The Federal Constitutional Court was established in 1994. But its permanent location was built right on the former prison site and opened in 2004. It interprets and enforces the South African Constitution, which is the supreme law of the land. It is open, filled with light, and adorned with vibrant South African art and symbols. The bricks in the court’s walls were made from the very prison that once oppressed so many. It’s a literal and symbolic act of justice: turning pain into progress.
Inside the courtroom, I saw the 11 seats for justices—an intentional design reflecting equality and dignity. Our tour guide, with exuberance, explained the court recently elected its first woman high court justice. I could tell this was her hope for a better future for the woman of South Africa. There are no intimidating judges’ benches or closed chambers, all proceedings must be televised. Also, I observed that the seats of the Court’s Justices sit below the audience. She explained this was an important factor in the design of the facility, to serve as a reminder to the justices that they are never above the people they serve. The layout invites transparency and trust, and more importantly, it guarantees the rights of all citizens, regardless of race, gender, or background.
Two Stories, One Journey: I left both places changed. These museums didn’t just teach me history—they made me feel it. If you visit Johannesburg, don’t rush. Walk slowly through Constitution Hill and the Apartheid Museum. Ask questions. Listen to the echoes of the past—and the voices still fighting in the present. Then pause to reflect, think about your own country. What stories are we telling? Whose voices are being heard—or silenced? What kind of relationship does your government have with its people? And what role can you play in shaping it?
