It had been on everyone's mind for
while. We'd all had a big scare a few months ago when he spent weeks
critically ill in hospital. Finally on Thursday evening, December 5th
December, Nelson Mandela, commonly referred to here in South Africa
as 'the Father of the nation', died at the age of 95.
People always like to tell the story of
where they were when big historical moments happen. I vaguely
remember the fall of the Berlin Wall. My Dad was watching people
singing and hugging, chugging sledgehammers and helping each other
clamber across a graffitied wall on TV. And he was crying. I was
still only 8 years old and was confused and fascinated. 'Dad. Why are
they crying? Why are you crying?!'. 'Because they are happy.
Look at these people, this happiness! This is a wonderful moment. You
must remember this.' He was at pains to make sure I remembered
that moment, and I still vaguely do, although it actually took me
many, many years before I truly understood what it had meant. I
remember well when Lady Di died. My radio alarm clock was playing the
news. I was sure I had dreamt it. Britain changed that day. Not
because of the person that was gone, but because of the way we
reacted. It was pure public grief and collective mourning. We didn't
used to do that kind of thing in Britain. Now we do. And I'll always
remember seeing 9/11 happen in front of my eyes. I had a week left
before I went for my first year of university. I was still at home
already getting into the student lifestyle - watching the lunchtime
episode of the soap opera Neighbours. I stayed up past midnight and
cried gutting tears of despair and shock before I fell asleep and
then got up to glue myself to the news for another day. It was
unbelievable. But we all watched it happen, live on TV.
As for this (much more expected)
moment, I was at home brushing my teeth. It was almost midnight when
President Zuma went on the air to address the nation. The only reason
I didn't just finish brushing my teeth and go to bed was that my
husband (a news wire journalist) had just said to me; 'I will not be
surprised if we wake up tomorrow and Mandela has died...'. He said he
was getting a lot of messages on his phone about family members
arriving at the Mandela house in Johannesburg. Something was up. I
immediately turned to Twitter and literally within half a minute
there it was, the President had appeared on TV and was telling us of
Mandela's death. This is how far we have come with technology.
Things can be confirmed within seconds and news spreads faster than
lightning through the chatter of online social networks. We stayed up
until 3am watching the news and fell asleep for four hours before my
husband rushed off to work. On our way to his office (I was stark
awake and wanted breakfast, I'd get to my own job afterwards) the
radio announced the news. Most South Africans had long been asleep
when Zuma went on TV and this was the first they had heard of it.
They played beautiful old South African songs including a 1980s
anti-apartheid classic Asmibonanga. I couldn't help but shed some
tears.
I have mentioned many dramatic and
traumatic events which most believed they would never see. This is
not one of them. Nelson Mandela was a 95 year old man. Quite frankly
for anyone, that is grand age; nevermind somebody who lived a life
such as he did. However, the way that the nation would feel, the
emotions that the average South African would grapple with and how
they would choose to react, I think was still something that many in
this country were unsure of. Just as after a very long life, you lose
a beloved grandparent - that elder of the family who holds everyone
together - you never can quite know how you will feel when they
finally pass on. Sometimes when people consistently fight on through
old age, for the younger it can feel as if they will always be
amongst us. Alas, deep down we all know the day will come. This week,
for South Africa, it was Tata Madiba's day to finally pass away and
leave us to be with his ancestors.
The places of remembrance
The people of Johannesburg quickly
chose their own places to pay their respects. Nelson Mandela Square
in the country's richest business district Sandton quickly became a
place for people to lay flowers and sign a book of condolence. People
arrived in the street in front of his home in the leafy suburb of
Houghton to sing and lay flowers literally minutes after the
announcement. Ever since, all kinds of people, but especially
families, have been arriving at the street of Mandela's home to pay
their respects and celebrate his life. Vilakazi, the street in Soweto
where he once lived in the days before he was a prisoner on Robben
Island, filled with people within hours of the announcement and they
are still there now. And at various other places across the city,
impromptu memorials kept appearing. We went to Liliesleaf in Rivonia
(where Mandela and his comrades laid the plans for an armed struggle
against apartheid which landed them in prison for life). Local school
children sang songs and people laid flowers, whilst excitedly sharing
their memories of 'that time Mr Mandela shook my hand' (there's not
one person I know who has met Mandela and was not almost immediately
charmed).
At no point did we see people crying.
In fact it was the reverse. People were smiling, shaking hands,
singing and dancing! The overwhelming feeling over these last days
(for me) has been that South Africans have been given a moment to
reflect on and appreciate what they now have, as a result of the work
and struggle of people like Nelson Mandela. Mandela's death is a
positive moment of celebration for this country, to have had such a
wonderful leader and to have achieved such hard-fought freedom. This
is now a democratic and free country with the most progressive
constitution on the planet. All people, in principle, have equal
rights. The government is directly accountable to all the people and
the people have the right to protest, to complain and to speak their
mind, no matter their opinions. I cannot begin to explain quite how
phenomenal the South African constitution is. Mr Mandela did not
achieve this alone, but with grace, charisma, wisdom and integrity he
helped to make that dream a reality.
I want to be clear here - I love this country. This is an incredible place with some amazing people. But in no way
am I trying to say that South Africa is a perfect. South Africa is a country with many deep and difficult
problems. There is a vast and crushing disparity between the rich and
the poor. The (predominantly black) poor are deeply disenfranchised
and live on the peripheries of society in some of the worst
conditions you will find anywhere on our earth. There is corruption.
Real corruption of the kind that makes those who hoped for a
better country wonder if they really got one. There is crime - but
please, this is not Gotham City! - but yes, there is still crime, it
is not as bad as it once was, but it does not go away.
And, there is the tragedy of
xenophobia. The many who continue to arrive here from war-torn and
despot countries such as Zimbabwe and Congo with dreams of a better
life and opportunities to put food on the table, face real and often
violent xenophobia. They talk of hopeless lives back home, but also
talk of the fear of revealing their identity to South Africans, the
fear of violence and the longing for the possibility to return home -
if only to escape the discrimination of those here that they thought
of as fellow, sympathetic black Africans.
The Day of Prayers and Reflection
On Sunday we went in search of a church
to visit for the 'Day of prayers and reflection'. We were hunting for
somewhere where we would find young people and possibly those from
other parts of the continent. After a roundabout tour of Braamfontein
(the student neighbourhood next to the university) we were eventually
drawn in by some loud spiritual music to what seemed to be an old
shop in the shadow of the Nelson Mandela Bridge. I have to admit,
there were a lot of strange things going on during the service. I'm
not a religious person anyway but I've been to church a fair few
times (my husband's a Christian) and this wasn't anything like going
with my Grandma to the local church of England! To sum it up, it was
a kind of a cross between intense bible study and very emotional
motivational speaking.
Turns out (we only understood this much
later), this was a local branch of a well-known Nigerian evangelical
church which is led by a charismatic pastor with his own TV channel.
There were moments of quite claustrophobic spiritual euphoria (mass
shaking hands and bodies, rapid muttering of prayers, shouts of
'PrAise de Lord!' and general loud preaching about the 'Grace of
God') but mostly the service was all about how can you take what
Jesus said and learn from it to make yourself a better person in this
world. Everyone had their own bible and highlighters with them and
were making notes. For me, this was a long service, but it was also a
valuable and totally unique cultural experience. On any other day I
would probably have never gone in there!
In respect of the 'Day of prayers and
reflection' the Pastor, had asked the youngest members of the
congregation to speak about Nelson Mandela and his ideals (rather
than tailoring his sermon to a Mandela story). The eldest of them, a
very beautiful and vibrant student, passionately spoke directly to
her peers, listing their responsibilities to themselves and each
other. The overriding message was education (both gospel and formal
academic). The Pastor picked up on this and until the end (almost
three hours!) the theme of the service was education (academic, moral
and of course mostly gospel/spiritual).
Learning from the legacy
For me the legacy, the questions, and
the future, all lie in education. I am an outsider, and I have been
living here for less than a year, but I have seen and heard already
enough to know that state education in this country does not live up
to the standards that it should. Many working-class South Africans
with decent wages would still rather live in a slum so that they can
save their extra money to put their child through private education,
when state education is universal. This should not be. Education is a
right in this country, but decent education is not. It should
not be that almost the only way to reach the professional classes is
through paying for a private education. The ability to shape this
country should be more accessible to all.
Nelson Mandela helped to create a
country where race was no longer a determining factor in the fate and
dignity of a human being. He helped build a proud nation made up of
people of many races and religions who could forgive the indignities
and cruelties they paid to one another. He did not so much as see a
child for 27 years whilst he was in prison and yet upon his release
and throughout his final years the people he had the most time for
where children. The minister or the child - he would greet the child
first.
The children of this world are those responsible for building the better world of the future which we dream of. The decent education of all children is how we make a legacy.
