Chris Hani’s untimely death was an opportunity lost

The first thing Chris Hani said to me, with an engaging smile, was: “We don’t hate white people.”

It was in the early 1990s and I had been introduced to him and Tokyo Sexwale by a colleague on the then Sunday Star, political reporter Sefako Nyaka.

We sat at a battered table in a gloomy office in the ANC PWV headquarters in Joburg CBD.

It was gloomy because one of the neon tubes had blown and, said Chris with a chuckle, “the comrades from the logistics department are not doing their jobs…”.

There was a similar explanation for the lack of milk in the coffee. No fridge (comrades in the struggle were used to doing without luxuries) so no milk.

Chris and Tokyo were open about their problems, the menace of impis on the East Rand, as well as the less-than-trustworthy people in their own organisation.

Chris had a vision, though, a vision of an SA where colour would not count and Africans could reclaim their land. He and Tokyo spoke with passion and commitment.

I came away with hope for the country.

Chris had the most charisma: I could see him one day as the man at the Union Buildings.

That Easter Saturday in 1993, the dream lay in a puddle of blood. I was there, along with other journalists and Tokyo.

I went to Tokyo and hugged him, not so much in sadness at the departure of Chris but at the sense of an opportunity lost.

Tokyo went on to billions. And good luck to him. I doubt Chris would have approved. A comrade who can get by without a fridge can get by without a Porsche.

Brendan Seery.

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