Kritiek Aster — Ukuthula, Mandela, 5 December 2014

Olivetti 45 — This morning I scratched this briefie out of the archives about you, Mister Mandela. Throughout the week my digital manager bugged us about communicating our side of your story to the world.

For the first time in a year I opened a photo folder I titled ‘Outside Madiba’s house mourning, 6 December 2014’.

It’s not saved on some office server; it’s saved on my own laptop. It’s backed up. Emotions, not exactly sadness but more nostalgia, pride and freedom, welled up as I scrolled through it deciding which photos to share with you lovely mense.

Ek’s hartseer, maar ook nie.

Thinking back, I had the time of my life amongst the diverse crowd outside your house that night. It was last year, but the memories and the emotion are still alive in me. The only thing that changed was our mourning into our sincere celebration of a legacy worth mentioning.

Camaraderie is an understatement.

You’ve always been able to bring people together, Mister Mandela, en nou staan ons éérs saam in nagedagtenis.

Please enjoy these photos and clips from my personal archives if you happen to spend a minute remembering this inspiring individual.

Share your thoughts with us via twitter and facebook or in the comment section below.

Kritiek Aster — Ukuthula, 20 December 2013

Olivetti 45 — I keep deleting every sentence I write here this week.

To Nelson Mandela, in my colleague’s words, hamba kahle, and in mine, ukuthula. Nothing describes the scenes outside your Houghton home on Friday night 6 December 2013 better than the photos I have taken. I went there on a whim, not by assignment of my editor.

I went there for me, I needed to be there.

Tears streaked my face when I joined that crowd. People were so lively, so passionate going about their struggle songs, dances and your role in liberating them.

I enjoyed every second with my fellow South Africans there, for lo and behold, a true rainbow nation celebrated his life outside his home. Every culture, language and creed united there that night, and I was fortunate enough to be part of it.

My ouma glo in die outydse ‘hou die blink kant bo’ uitkyk op die lewe. Ek sê cry your hearts out for the man very few of us (who were there on Friday night) have had the pleasure to meet, and whom I never had the opportunity to appreciate for his work. Make a god-like icon of him or call him the terrorist that caused him to end up in prison – do what is appropriate for the side of the spectrum you agree with.

Do it respectfully.

Forget keeping the blink kant bo and get passionate, although not brutal, about the people we adore and the people we deem inadequate. Like that crowd, get passionate about the changes that we demand, as a country. Get passionate. Celebrate. Criticise.

Demand a better life.

But get involved in the process, it might surprise you what happens when you’re right there in the midst of it. It surprised me. Ukuthula, ’til next year.

View a gallery of the mourning outside Mandela’s Houghton home last year here.

Related articles:

• Mourning outside Mandela’s Houghton home, 6 December 2013
• Kritiek Aster — Ukuthula
• Hamba kahle Madiba, freedom at last