Here in South Africa, Trick-or-Treat and Halloween festivities are not broadly practised. I’m not certain why.
Perhaps we had Apartheid instead of Halloween, where white people dressed up as white people and trampled on the human rights of black people dressed up as black people. It was always Trick in those days, and never Treat. Now that we no longer have Apartheid, nobody knows how to treat, and since everyone is used to tricks, that’s all they expect to get handed out when Trick-or-Treating.
And yet, last year some small children appeared at my door, dressed amusingly and raising the question, “Trick or treat?”
They seemed very disappointed with my offer of homemade rusks (all I had in the house at the time), declined them, and skulked off.
I felt so bad about it that this year I went on a special mission to buy treats. I bought Smarties, liquorice, chocolates and toffees. Unfortunately, this year it was my turn to be disappointed. No little whippersnappers arrived at my door. Not even white kids dressed as white kids, or black kids dressed as black kids.
Angie and I now have to eat the treats. How horrible for us.
The Waffle Group 
Tch. Whippersnappers. You can’t trust ’em.
Shame family, no whippersnappers to be seen. Maybe you should be the change you want to see next year, and go Trick or Treating yourself.
Amusingly, Angie and I considered taking Jethro (or perhaps the fluffs in Faildog outfits) and demanding candy from others.
You should do so. In fact, you should wait until some random day, like June 3, and *then* do it. When people are confused, tell them that it’s Halloween in the Mayan calendar and demand treats.