I thought of posting this video/song simply because its cool, but as so often happens, it does tie in well with a broader message and theme permeating in South Africa today, Madiba has been laid to a much deserved rest, but a huge part of his legacy remains within us - a part he fought and was prepared to die for: FREEDOM. Additionally, mandela always said that music and Dancing put him at peace with the world... The 'free' sung about in this video (by Rudimental featuring Emeli Sande) is complete in its openness - its the freedom we yearn for but so seldom exercise. We have been liberated, so don't live like you're still oppressed... it all starts in the mind. An African Myth A poem by Steven Benjamin From humble hills A heart starts to beat Walking begins From humble teachings Breaking a branch “Troublemaker” is born A mind grows No boundaries found, but what he sees. A man of blood and bone, and of the earth. A tormented land, thirsty Quenched, only with the blood of its own people. Within the division, He grows He is armed The land knows his name Shackles now, and resolve In the dungeons kept Land and frigid sea, between His blood, from youth, and love Reformed in the cold of night and blinding heat of day Behind high walls and in rocky quarries A brotherhood is sealed. And through the wire and the stone, his voice grows His spirit remains. But the body withers His name is known Bullets fly, bodies fall A nation walks to the edge The bloodied hand of the Abyss beckons The gates open with the chant of the people for the cage must be unlocked The man steps forth The world takes a breath. One last brother falls The Abyss steps closer... But, the boundaries seen are broken, My heart beats as yours To kill you, is to kill me His heart beats For his people, and rampant land. Peace He broke a branch once Perhaps from an Olive tree And extended his hand gracefully, To his fearful enemy ... - Years pass That fearful day nears When the land will reclaim a man The people will cry tears to soak the once bloodied ground And the heavens will cry too An old man’s heart stops beating... And the world stops, for a moment. He is sent back His body taken, Back into those humble hills - This is the story of a boy, a man, a husband, a father, a Chief, a lawyer, a leader, a soldier, a freedom fighter, a prisoner, a peacemaker, a reconciler, a liberator, a president, a humanitarian, a King, a legend, a hero, an icon… the father of a democratic nation, the son of an African land... the closest incarnation of that ancient African myth, where all hope, is in but one, an incorruptible one. Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela 1918 - 2013 ... [God Bless all, 2013 is marks the first full year of publication of this blog, here's to a waaay bigger 2014. I'll be a little preoccupied in this end of year festivities and travels. Be safe, be blessed, hug your family and friends, and keep on reading and writing. thanks to all my first time visitors as well as dedicated loyalists, Cheers - I take my proverbial hat off to you!]
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South Africa stands still, because in the face of death, nothing else matters. With Nelson Mandela gone, it was imperative that I write… something, anything. This after all, was a man who inspired such things, and much more. The title of this post comes from a line in an article on The Daily Maverick entitled: "With Madiba gone, who do we become?" - and it quite perfectly sums up modern South Africa... a miracle country with many problems and deep flaws. But, with the death of our nations father, we are able to take a moment to step back and reflect, getting out of our own way to look at our current circumstance with a fresh gaze, and realize that we as a country still don't know who we are. We're exiting our difficult teenage years, and now the time has come for us to really show our maturity - or to grasp it very quickly, because that's what needs to happen. This moment of reflection and honoring our great leader was desperately needed, and so, even in death, Nelson Mandela continues to serve South Africa. I was 19 when my father died, but still it has taken a few years to truly become a man – the one I know he and God can look on with something vaguely approaching satisfaction; that I can at least claim to be on the right path toward that beacon, wherever it may be. The years since his death have been an education, the deepest of my young life. South Africa is 19 years into democracy, still just a teenager, and our country’s father has just died. They say the best stories surround a great hero overcoming a mighty foe, and though Madiba was by no means alone, he was the head of the army, the accepted and acknowledged leader in the fight. Apartheid – the great scourge of our nation’s past, and during its existence, the stain on the world map. The stakes could not have been higher. We’ve seen and read about such tales of heroism, endurance and fortitude amid bloodshed, no, blood-flow, and death, strife, unimaginable pain and anguish. We, South Africa were born out of a tormented and warped past, one still haunting us today, though more so the older generations. But now that that demonic system of oppression lay like a vanquished enemy in the dust of history, the great hero who spear-headed the campaign, has taken his final bow. Apartheid called for a great leader to arise, and, in quiet calm dignity, he, Mandela, answered that call. Now, when there are no more such evil enemies holding us captive, and no more heroes of Mandela's caliber left or required (stealing a glance at the fallen or slain greats like Walter Sisulu, Oliver Tambo, Goven Mbeki, Chris Hani and Steve Biko et al.), we are left, to ponder our own devices, to find our path, alone… and together. This is the season, potentially the realization of that dream a good few have spoken of; this great man will forever be a bastion of reference, his legacy a guiding light toward that dream we like to call, the African Renaissance. I believe I speak for the vast majority of SA when saying that we all felt it deeply, even though we saw it coming (nothing can prepare you for that hollow chasm of grief)… it’s that sudden alarm, vague shock when your guiding light, the same light which was so strong in leading you out of the dark, even when hidden in a island dungeon - simply because we knew it remained... is then extinguished. And now we stand still, taking a moment to honour him, before we take those first steps into the unknown, in all our youth and vulnerability. Madiba, you were among the best of us, and stamped the seal as our example, "We South Africans have had the uncommon luxury of outsourcing our morality to one of history’s giants, a man who was simply unable to disappoint." (from the article alluded to earlier)... but now, more than ever, is the time to live by those same morals, and hold one another accountable. I salute you, Tata Till we meet again “The implication of that was if any of us take the witness box, we should take our cue (from Mandela’s speech)… Proclaim your political beliefs, don’t apologise, don’t ask for mercy. If there’s a death sentence, we will not appeal. That’s how Madiba was exemplary in whatever he did. He led from the front. No matter what the risks, he was right in front,” -- Ahmed Kathrada, struggle icon and fellow political Prisoner on Robben Island. This in reference to Mandela’s famous four and a half hour speech at the Rivonia trial, pledging to fight against black and white domination, and saying he was prepared to die for his convictions. “He was, and by the time of his death, universally held to be a great man; he may well be the last of the great men as the concept of greatness retires into the historical shadows.” – JM Coetzee, novelist & recipient of the 2003 Nobel Prize in Literature. Invictus - William Ernest Henley Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. --- Ulysses (extract) - Alfred Lord Tennyson [...] ... Come, my friends. 'T is not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down; It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho' We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,-- One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. --- “… we must also ask ourselves a question: What about the future? I think as we celebrate the life of Nelson Mandela, this becomes a central task, to ensure we do not betray what he and others sacrificed for.” – Former SA Pres. Thabo Mbeki Still on my reading wish list, so this is more of a Book preview; "Stand Still like the Hummingbird": a book-of-essays/anthology. I'm giving it a look-see even though I don't yet own it. However, curiosity got the better of me, so here are some extracts and quotes from an unconventional writer. Some of Henry Miller's early works were banned in his home country of the US for their controversial content involving religion, sex, social criticism, philosophy and explicit language. Six books of his written between 1934-59 were all banned. Here in my opinion is the only imaginative prose-writer of the slightest value who has appeared among the English-speaking races for some years past. Even if that is objected to as an overstatement, it will probably be admitted that Miller is a writer out of the ordinary, worth more than a single glance; and after all, he is a completely negative, unconstructive, amoral writer, a mere Jonah, a passive acceptor of evil, a sort of Whitman among the corpses. - George Orwell acknowledging Henry Miller in his Essay: "Inside the Whale" (1940) “I see myself forever and ever as the ridiculous man, the lonely soul, the wanderer, the restless frustrated artist, the man in love with love, always in search of the absolute, always seeking the unattainable.” “ our needs … what is it that we need? certainly the more liberated one feels the less one needs. the sage demonstrates it daily, and the idiot too. just to breathe, to know that you are alive, isn’t it marvelous. “ Extracts from the book - "Stand Still Like the Hummingbird" - a collection of essays from Henry Miller. -- And your way, is it really your way? "There is no salvation in becoming adapted to a world which is crazy." Some further quotes by other writers to continue the theme... ... We look at him through the wrong end of the telescope of Time, |
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