FEARFUL as I am of being lumped with the proponents of “relentless positivity”, who can also be identified by their mastery of the art of small talk and asinine aphorisms as well as a tendency to idolise Oprah and follow spiritual paths recommended by best selling novels, I note we are surfing into the much hyped, and Fifa-marketed, year of 2010 on a couple of highs.

The come-uppance of Julius Malema at the hands of, ostensibly, his own side of the political divide, the knowledge we may just have a fighting chance against Mexico when the World Cup begins for real, and the shortlisting of District 9 for the Oscars have injected a dose of optimism into our lives at the end of a tough year.

The bull has been killed, the other side of the climate change debate got an airing (however limited) in the mainstream media and the world is showing almost no signs of its predicted imminent demise in 2012.

It’s so much easier to look on the bright side of life when one is getting ready to occupy a comfortable couch with several books, to feast, to visit family and friends, and generally chill. Though some of my family live in paradise where they surf all day and party all night, and close friends drink their sundowners on a patio perched against the Mother City mountain for far less than the R350000 a day some sap will be charged for an apartment overlooking Clifton during the World Cup (do they know it’s winter in Cape Town in June and July and the view may be obscured by thick mist and the pool a chill 11°C?), I am not jealous.

I am not envious, even though I know there are others who will be gazing out proprietorially over a vineyard or two and yet others decanting into bijou holiday homes with lawns that roll down to secluded turquoise bays. For I will be at home in tranquil Johannesburg, Gauteng, safe under the watchful eye of our newly alert neighbours.

Under the intimidating acronym SAS Residents’ Association – the two participating streets begin with S – we have banded together to fight crime. Shoulder to shoulder, white, black, Indian, coloured (a veritable rainbow slice of SA life), Muslim and Hindu, Christian and Jew, Portuguese, Afrikaans and English-speaking, old, middle aged and young, dog owners, cat lovers – we have pledged to make our suburb safer.

We are tired of waiting for policing to improve, for crime to dwindle, for a change to come over the land. We are doing it for ourselves and it is a wonderful thing.

Our first meeting – which was embarrassingly the first time most of us had ever met our immediate neighbours – included a couple who had lived in the area for 60 years and a couple who had been there two days, and a whole range in between.

Fired up we have exchanged telephone numbers, set up an e-mail list, shared useful tips on how to get the streetlights fixed and the roads repaired, and invited security companies to pitch for our business security.

As we consider our options oh so carefully, the streets are awash with alarm company patrol cars. We have regained some power, we are doing something and it feels good.

There’s a run on Chuck Norris and Charles Bronson DVDs at the local video shop, and we shall overcome. Last weekend chairs were set out on a grassy, neutral pavement knoll and our first street braai took place. Two days later an attempted break-in was thwarted by a vigilant neighbour.

I am planning a street party during the World Cup which will put the Cape Town Long Street Fifa final draw thrash to shame.

Aluta continua in suburbia – the new liberation struggle will be fought here against the tyranny of crime, and we will be victorious.

The differences between suburb and township are evaporating. Soweto has an hotel and a Toys R US. My suburban road has potholes and no working street lights. We are both communities of people who want to make our lives better.

Strikes will go on next year, racism accusations will fly, fat ministers will drive flashy cars and suspect appointments will be made. The world may get colder/hotter/drier/wetter, Barack Obama’s approval rating may drop lower and Jacob Zuma’s rise higher, and Helen Zille will continue to zealously prove a point in the Western Cape.

But I will know happiness and freedom from worry as I contemplate life from my new pool recliner (present hint number one) in the first summer weeks of 2010 and polish up the new SAS logo on the big front gate.

For a few bright, shining days I hope to be happily at home, in the bosom of my newfound “community”.

Paddi Clay will resume her column, and a more jaundiced view of her life and politics on January 19, 2010.