February 24

I started them last year and finished this weekend – three tasks I had promised myself I would do, come what may. It took a lot longer than expected, but I read the life stories of Albert Luthuli, Kader Asmal and Nelson Mandela (“Albert Luthuli: Bound by Faith,” by Scott Couper, “Kader Asmal: Politics in my Blood,” an autobiography, and “Mandela,” the official biography by Anthony Sampson). I read them because two were from this area – Luthuli from Groutville and Asmal from Stanger – and Mandela, well, because he’s Mandela.

All were long, long reads, especially the last. All were presented with incredibly fine detail about relationships between the subject and parents, siblings, mentors, heroes, competitors and adversaries.

Asmal’s brains got him out of Stanger and to the UK, where he became a co-founder of the Anti-Apartheid Movement. He was an academic, not an AK-wielding freedom fighter. Luthuli was a devout, mission-educated and proud man who was completely opposed to this country’s race practices and not afraid to speak his mind, very eloquently and firmly. About Mandela I just need to say – 27 years behind bars and he comes out like a saint!

Three people from quite different backgrounds with different life journeys, though linked by a common thread of their unshakeable opposition to apartheid and their quest for the greater good. They gave their lives to their cause. They were their cause.

These were three stubborn fellows. You cannot help but admire a man who is stuck in a cell for 27 years and in all that time they failed to break his spirit. He came out stronger than he went it.

Mandela speaks often of the pain he felt at having abandoned his family for the cause, but not once does he doubt that he has done the right thing. I can’t help but wonder if he didn’t have those three-in-the-morning doubts like the rest of us. After all, a central story of the Bible is of Jesus on the Cross, his faith weakened and crying out ïn his pain, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” It is one of the stories that made Jesus human and accessible, isn’t it so.

When bad things happen to bad people, we rub our hands with glee and say “Serves them right,” but you have to wonder why bad things also keep happening to good people. Could it be that life really boils down to a bumper sticker line – life’s a bitch and then you die?

I like to think not. Don’t forget there’s road running for your pain and dopamine fixes and golf for the rollercoaster of glory and humility “just look at that magnificent shot ohmigawd I stuffed it up!”

No, I jest. What I learned from those three stories is that if you strongly, fiercely believe in something and hold on to your dreams really, really hard and don’t give up when the storms break around you then sometimes, maybe more than sometimes, your dreams can come true.

I think too that theirs are three stories of inspiration to mark the ANC’s 100th anniversary. I hope, really hope, that those who hold the reins of the organisation in the future can also be inspired by lofty dreams for a better future and not a mere scrabbling in the dirt for material gain.

Happy anniversary, ANC.

* * *

An 85-year-old man was asked by his doctor for a sperm count as part of his physical exam.

The doctor gave the man a jar and said, “Take this jar home and bring back a semen sample tomorrow.”

The next day the 85-year-old man reappeared at the doctor’s office and gave him the jar, which was as clean and empty as on the previous day. The doctor asked, what happened and the man explained.

“Well, doctor, it’s like this – first I tried with my right hand, but nothing. Then I tried with my left hand, but still nothing. Then I asked my wife for help. She tried with her right hand, then with her left, still nothing. She tried with her mouth, first with the teeth in, then with her teeth out, still nothing. We even called up Arleen, the lady next door and she tried too, first with both hands, then an armpit, and she even tried squeezing it between her knees, but still nothing.”

The doctor was shocked! “You asked your neighbour?”

The old man replied, “Ja, none of us could get the jar open.”