December 12th and exactly a week after the death of Madiba
was publicly announced. Aside from
the politics and peculiarity of the chronology of key events leading up to this
announcement, I couldn’t help but notice that many world leaders came together
and could agree on one point:
Nelson Mandela was the most powerfully humble and impacting world leader
in history.
Today, his casket was taken to Pretoria in
Gauteng province. There, the masses queued at fields where buses and shuttles
drove them up to the Union building where the casket was displayed under high
security.
My
family and I drove the 3.5hrs to Pretoria so that we, too, could commemorate
the life of the man we all (and especially my father) wanted to meet. Although
my dad had the opportunity in the past, he chose to wait until the day we, as a
family, could be introduced to Mandela. Sadly, this was not God’s will for us
to meet him alive.
When
we arrived at the public park and ride area, we found the lines so
overwhelmingly long that we knew many of those people – and especially those of
us who had just arrived – would most likely not get the opportunity to see
Madiba. We took some photos of the queue and headed back to our vehicle.
When we arrived in central Pretoria, all of the flags were at half-staff.
The public parking and ride area was FLOODED with people.
Dad has that look on his face where he is thinking about a Plan B.
Taking in the scenery...
Walking back to the car in pursuit of Plan B.
These are the lines we encountered when we arrived. I'm not sure if you can tell by this picture just how thick it was.
My dad, who will exhaust every avenue before defining a new realm to
pursue, decided that we would try getting in another, less-trafficked area. Our new objective: the VIP Park and Ride...
We arrived at Plan B and found a sweet-looking Afrikaans policeman who asked us where we were from.
We arrived at Plan B and found a sweet-looking Afrikaans policeman who asked us where we were from.
South
Africans LOVE the American accent for some odd reason and God worked that in
our favour. Dad told him we were from the states and he let us pass. After a
few more layers of security, our family settled down in a shuttle with
government workers and policemen. From there, we were driven to the front of
the line with a few other secured shuttles.
The
Union building is a spectacular work of art. It also has a breath-taking view
of Pretoria. When we arrived, we were conducted and watched by many police and
military personnel who kept the queues flowing smoothly past the cameras and
Madiba’s casket.
The ride up to the Union Building.
The Union Building... I was greatly impressed especially when I saw this F-250
police vehicle. Oh yes!
I
have been to several funerals and looked at the lifeless bodies of loved ones.
But it was never a reality to me at the funerals when I would see a once
vibrant human lying still. I remember looking at my great-grandmother,
Elisabeth, and expecting her to open her eyes at any moment and smile at me. Or
when I stood over my great-grandfather, Morgan Thomas, waiting for him to sit
up and break out into some spectacular operatic piece. – I wept before both of their viewings;
but I found myself almost void of emotion (or too mixed up with several) at
their funerals because it just wasn’t real to me.
Knowing
this about myself, I was surprised by the great emotion I felt when I passed
Madiba’s lifeless body. I had travelled three hours with my family, queued, and
then caught all but 5 seconds of the face of a man I had read so much about.
I
looked at a little boy beside me in queue who shared heritage with this great
leader. A guard greeted him by referring to him as a “young man”. His mother brought him - no doubt - as an investment into her son's future. A call to manhood as the policeman confirmed in the choice of words he used to address the woman's son.
I looked at the thousands of people standing in the warm sun to see their “Tata”. I looked at the soldiers and security guys who organised the routes, transports, queues, display, etc. for their beloved leader. I looked at the many nations that came together. And then… as I turned my head away from where he lay, I saw some policemen holding boxes of tissues for those who passed.
I looked at the thousands of people standing in the warm sun to see their “Tata”. I looked at the soldiers and security guys who organised the routes, transports, queues, display, etc. for their beloved leader. I looked at the many nations that came together. And then… as I turned my head away from where he lay, I saw some policemen holding boxes of tissues for those who passed.
“Feet away. Yet, a lifetime away.” –Abba
The
culmination of observations and thoughts welled up inside of me. I was sobered
and near tears. I read “Long Walk
to Freedom”, heard Mandela speak on television, recalled his struggle, recalled
his forgiveness, and listened to the endearing words of whites and blacks,
alike.
I do not intend to idolise a man. However, we worship celebrities and
fools. Yet, here lay an honourable man who was honest about his sins and
reconciled himself to those he could.
Madiba has left a legacy that – as Morgan said – could last as long as 200 years if we remember and recount it to our children. The LORD did an amazing work through this man and gave him favour with man.
Madiba has left a legacy that – as Morgan said – could last as long as 200 years if we remember and recount it to our children. The LORD did an amazing work through this man and gave him favour with man.
We
- my family and I – are sobered and honoured by the fact that we can be a part
of such a great history and share with our children and grandchildren.
I see it as a mercy from God that despite
our disobedience, He allowed the world to be led by such a man as Nelson
Mandela.
“Hamba kahle, Tata Madiba… Go well, Father Madiba.”
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