On Thursday evening I flew out of South Africa on an overseas trip. At the airport book shop I noticed a new-ish magazine called Business Times Africa.

It had an eye-catching cover with four pictures on it. The first, with a line underneath saying "Past: End of a miracle", was of former president Thabo Mbeki.

The second and third pictures, with the tagline "Present: The embrace of power and wealth", were of President Jacob Zuma and his deputy, Kgalema Motlanthe.

The third picture, tagged "Future: The crisis next time" was of ANC Youth League leader Julius Malema. There was a bold headline saying "Tipping Point", followed by a sub-headline: "How post-1994 South Africa lost its way."

I bought the magazine. The main story was a litany of what I write about in this column: the corruption, the poor leadership, the lack of shame among corrupt or incompetent office-bearers.

It was reminiscent of much that I have read about on post-colonial Africa: first, the euphoria and then the dream falling apart.

Yet as the plane flew over Africa, I missed my country already. I missed it for its braveness, its ability to conjure up hope even when we are despondent.

I miss the fact that, before I left the office on Thursday evening, a young man stood at my office door and tried to sell me a Springbok jersey.

This is the same team that, in the past, people like me hated so much that we applauded when Trevor Manuel admitted to backing the All Blacks.

I miss the warmth of Pretoria and its welcoming people. I miss the fact that we are not like Libya, where people said nothing for 41 years while the dictator Muammar Gaddafi used their country as his own piggy bank.

I love the fact that we can debate who will take over from Zuma.

In Zimbabwe they kidnap, torture and possibly kill you for even thinking about Robert Mugabe as mortal.

I love South Africa for the fact that we change presidents as though they are a pair of underpants. We have had four presidents in 17 years. Libya has had one in 41 years. Go figure.

I miss Public Protector Thuli Madonsela. She inspires me. How many countries in the world have a Madonsela, a woman who stands and speaks for good and for right and for principle?

I miss the fact that we are one of very few countries where a man as powerful as Malema can be investigated by a young reporter from Limpopo called Piet Rampedi, and the fact that this young man is still alive and will be writing more big stories.

I am glad that in my country we, the media, can still hold up a mirror to the likes of Malema and show power some truth.

I miss the blue skies in winter.

So I say yes, we have lost our way. We are in the jungle now, hacking our way with machetes through the dark, tangled growth.

We have lost our way, but not our compass. We still know the difference between right and wrong, good and bad, just and unjust, fair and unfair.

Every day, the Madonselas and the Terence Nombembes and the Hugh Glenisters of this world still carve a path through the jungle to a nobler, truer, greater South Africa than the one we have achieved so far in our baby democracy.

The South Africa I miss is not a despondent South Africa. It is a South Africa of men and women who get out of bed every morning wanting to build a more equitable country, a more just country.

Some of our political leaders may be lining their pockets, they may be feeding at the trough, but these good men and women are not. And they are everywhere. They are in taxis and communities and clinics and schools every day. They strive not just for good, but for greatness.

I miss my home town, Hammanskraal. I miss it because every time I go there, even on a Sunday, I see a matric pupil from Makgetse High School in Temba township in uniform, walking home from school.

I miss smiling to myself, knowing that the principal from that school drives his students every year to attend school every day - including weekends - so they can escape the hopelessness, the poverty, the small world-ness, of a life without books and education.

This is the South Africa I miss. It is a South Africa of good people, united in hacking through the tangled undergrowth of corruption and poor leadership.