Mandela: How he personally touched me and my family

On Thursday 5 December 2013, the world lost a global icon who was born in the rural hinterland of the Eastern Cape in South Africa. Many things since then have been written about him and how he has touched the world differently. Today, he will be honoured in a memorial which, by all accounts, will be of a truly historic nature, with the biggest number of leaders in an event outside the United Nations. It is a testimony to the impact of the leader that the African National Congress produced. I have chosen to celebrate his leadership by reflecting on how he personally touched me and my family.

Even though there will be all these leaders and royalty at his memorial, it should never be forgotten that the great Mandela touched people because he displayed those rare combinations of leadership qualities: respect, integrity, humility, caring, courageous and honesty. In applying them, he showed that he would give as much respect to the most downtrodden as to royalty. He showed respect and honour for people that he did not know a lot.

Madiba touched my family through something he had in common with my late brother. Mandela was the first Commander-In –Chief of Umkhonto Wesizwe (MK), and it was through his actions with MK that he went to prison. My late brother, who was also born in Pondoland in the rural hinterland of the Eastern Cape, became a member of MK in the mid-1980’s. He was killed in January 1991, as we were looking forward to a future with him after years in exile and also being arrested for his activities in MK.

On the evening before the funeral, Madiba arrived at our simple rural home with a delegation of ANC leaders to pay his respects. He called for us as siblings and cousins so he could talk to us. He had personally met my brother a number of times when he visited the region, as my brother was in the core group that would be given the responsibility of looking after the ANC leaders when they visited the region at the time. Madiba told us how personally touched he was by our brother’s death, and that he had come that evening as he would be unable to attend the funeral the next day. He had requested that he be driven to our home after an engagement in a town some 150kms away which had only ended after 6pm. Rather than go to rest, once he had heard the news, he felt that his task would not have been complete if he did not come to pay his respects to our family.

In front of my parents, he told all of us that the only way we could honour our brother was to focus on education and develop ourselves. We were all touched by how this leader humbled himself to come to a family that he personally did not know, and had no status besides the simple working lives of my parents. To him, the passing of a fellow soldier in the struggle transcended status. And he thought it was his duty to comfort those in need, and perhaps it was his way of wanting to express his gratitude for the manner in which my brother had performed his tasks whenever they met.

There is a photograph of my brother, displayed at the Mandela Museum in Mthatha, of my brother walking behind Madiba after Madiba had visited the grave of the former Thembu King Sabata Dalindyebo. I always love looking at it. Mandela never forgot those who worked with him. His example of leadership left an indelible mark in my heart, and in my brother’s memory I will always honour and cherish him.