REMEMBERING MY DEAREST COMRADE, FRIEND AND SISTER
Morning comrades. After receiving a call yesterday to write something about our beloved comrade, and activist sister, Zindzi Mandela, it has proved to be a tough call indeed for most of us. We do not even know where to begin! I, for one, finds it very difficult. All I can try and do, is to collect my random thoughts and memories of an amazing sister, mother, and comrade, who - like her mother - was brave, fearless, and totally selfless.
I remember how as a very young woman, Zindzi was always the adult - even though she was younger than most of us. Just to mention a few incidences: While living with her at 8115 Orlando-West, together with Cdes such as MK Malefane, Oupa Seakamela, Mzwakhe Mbuli etc, I once came home from rehearsal for a play I was in with the likes of Sbongile Khumalo, Ramolao Makhene, Arthur Molepo (It was directed by Malcolm Purkey and William Kentrige etc.). Someone had given me the keys to fetch something from the car, although I had never driven a car in my life I got into the car and switched on the engine to the horror of onlookers. I can only thank God nobody was hurt. The first thing that Zindzi did when I told her, was to look at me, and and she told me in that strong voice of hers, “But you don't drive?!”
To myself, MK and Cde Vusi arriving early in the morning in Bradford with only one request from her, “a barrel of KFC”. UMama always confused our voices, sometimes saying something about me thinking she was talking to Zindzi! There are the priceless memories of sitting for long hours in bed, talking and teasing special branch on the phone when we knew they were listening! Zindzi had the most hearty, loud laughter, and an amazing sense of humor. Her animated talking was always accompanied by funny gestures. Her voice, hands and eyes always talked together in the most amazing way. She was genuine, straightforward, and truthful - an open book.
Zindzi was amazingly strong! Always calling me to order, and reminding me how uMama taught us that we should NEVER cry in front of our enemies. When we were short of food she would tell MK, who was in charge of housekeeping money and orders from Mama in Branford, that we should cook a big pot of Mqushu and keep reheating it for days. Comrade Zindzi steadfastly refused to ever feel sorry for herself, and she expected the same courage and strength from us. We would sometimes be alone in the house protected outside only by our beloved dog called Krushev!
Comrade Zindzi had the biggest of hearts, and with her deep compassion she would take over other people's pain and suffering, as if it was her very own. I learnt so much from her. She encouraged me by wearing the first garment I made, reminding me how I would one day tell people she was my first fashion Model.
Later in life she would come over to my house with the kids, and we would trick Madiba when he would call at 8am! I would take the call, and he would think he is talking to Zindzi, looking for her and Rochelle!
I remember how this selfless sister of mine - who knew how nervous I was with butterflies in my stomach on the first opening of the play at Market Theater - m add sure that she came with Archbishop Tutu, MK and others to take the front raw seats to watch me perform for the first time.
There are also the priceless memories of watching her as a young mother to cute little baby Zoleka. Throughout her life, sometimes under the most difficult of circumstances, Zindzi was a dedicated, loving and caring mother. In that she was the personification of her own mother, uMama Winnie, who loved her two daughters deeply and unconditionally.
Recently Zindzi called all those who mattered to her, and her dear Mother, to come together and to work together to build Mama Winnie’s legacy. When she did so, little did she know that she would soon join her beloved Mother.
My dearest sister and comrade may your beautiful, brave, soul Rest In Peace! As I say this I can feel the lump in my throat, and I want to cry, but I can hear Zindzi’s strong voice admonishing me that we must always be strong, for the the sake of our people.
My dearest sister’s life was whole. There was no separation between her private life, and her political existence. For her the personal was political, and the political was personal. If there was one thing she would have asked all of us to commit ourselves to, it is to continue with the struggle until our people are truly free.
