Nelson Mandela died on December 5, 2013 – a date which will be recorded into South Africa’s history for all time.
Seldom before have we been so graced to share our time with a man so great, yet so humble. A man flawed, yet unafraid to go forth into the dark, shining a light for all to see.
A man dedicated to human rights and equality, a man who defended children.
There are so many positive adjectives to describe this man that this columnist cannot choose the right words to encapsulate this man.
While many think writing a column is easy, I must admit that today’s column is the hardest I have ever penned. How do I convey, adequately, the nation’s sorrow at the passing of Madiba? The man we came to call Tata.
How do I push past the torrent of emotions swirling around me, to write something meaningful?
Madiba is, without any doubt, the father of our nation. He is a man among men, someone who truly embodied what it meant to be a statesman.
I don’t think there has ever been another president in the world who was as accessible as Madiba – a fact which gave his security detail many sleepless nights.
It was not above Madiba to stop and talk to a child, or an old woman, or indeed anyone who wanted to shake his hand.
27 years in jail, for believing all people are equal. I cannot even comprehend how Madiba pushed through his time in jail. How did he do it? How did he come out of jail and display no bitterness?
I never had the privilege of meeting Madiba – and now I never will.
I do, however, have many fond memories of the man, which I will share with my children one day.
Being a rugby supporter, I vividly remember Madiba walking out onto Ellis Park wearing the number 6 jersey. I can only imagine how François Pienaar must have felt.
PJ Powers’ song, The World in Union, still gives me goosebumps, and if I hear that song today, I will be reduced to a blithering, blubbering wreck.
All for a man I never met, but who changed the course of South Africa’s history forever.
A man whose impact has been felt in my life as clearly as if I had been a personal friend of his. Almost as if he had been my own father.
I suppose in a sense he was, he ushered into history a new South Africa, allowing us all a new beginning.
Tears will flow, but grief will pass. But above all, I do not believe Madiba would have wanted us to mourn his passing. I believe he would want his life celebrated. Actually, I think he was so humble he would have found all this mildly embarrassing.
I think we should celebrate the life Madiba had, with song and dance. We should celebrate the fact that we were so blessed as to share a part of history with this great man.
So here is what I propose: let us raise a glass of champagne to Madiba, and honour the life he led, and let us pledge to live our lives with a little more Madiba Magic.
He was a beacon of light in the darkness of apartheid, let us raise our glasses and remember him for all the good he did.
Let us have a braai, and say, “This steak is for you Tata.”
Let us remember. Let us never forget.
“If there are dreams about a beautiful South Africa, there are also roads that lead to their goal. Two of these roads could be named Goodness and Forgiveness.” – Nelson Mandela.
