The Scottish crowd ‘went ballistic’ as Marah danced with Mandela

PRIOR to the Glasgow trip in 1993, I had never dreamed that I would meet Nelson Mandela, the great man who made so many sacrifices and spent years locked up in prison fighting for freedom in South Africa. I never imagined that I would be chosen out of so many other talented artists to go to travel to other countries and sing for this esteemed leader.

When it did happen, being in the same room with him, up close and personal, it was surreal. It happened at the Hilton Hotel in Glasgow on October 8, 1993, when Mandela was awarded the Freedom of the City by nine UK regions.

I’d been invited to perform at the event by Brian Filling, chairman of the Scottish branch of the British Anti-Apartheid Movement (AAM). I first met him in South Africa the previous year through Lentswe Mokgatle, a mutual comrade and friend. The event was held at George Square in Glasgow. Security was tight because there were so many people, all waiting patiently to see Mandela.

I was chaperoned throughout the day. On stage, I joined some of the dignitaries including Father Trevor Huddleston. The atmosphere took on an electric quality when Nelson Mandela arrived and took to the podium. When he spoke it began to pour with rain; a good sign in my culture. It means the ancestors are happy. Nobody opened an umbrella. Everyone just stood, soaking wet, to listen to Nelson Mandela.

After his speech I went to hug him and started singing. He was supposed to finish his speech and be whisked off to another venue, but when he heard my voice he started dancing with me. I was astonished. I sang and danced with him as if there was no tomorrow. The Scottish crowd went ballistic, clapping and dancing. I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. As soon as I finished performing the rain stopped. Our picture made headlines around the world. As Mandela was escorted out, he broke away from the tight security to greet and shake hands with the people in the crowd, creating a security panic. That’s the kind of humble human being Nelson Mandela was: he had no fear of being attacked. He was completely relaxed and joyful.

Later that afternoon, we made our way from George Square to the Concert Hall, where an audience of some 2 000 people from the National Assembly of Local Authorities were gathered, along with other guests. Again, the audience was fired up when I performed and Nelson Mandela walked on to the stage.

By the end of that day I was tired, not only from performing but from the rapturous welcomes we received throughout the day. It’s a feeling I will hold on to for the rest of my life and that nobody can take away from me.

I was invited back to Scotland in 1994, just before our first democratic elections, for a show called Mara Louw – Freedom Tour. The AAM had organised it as part of a fundraising tour for the ANC election campaign. I took a band of professional musicians along with me, including Fana Zulu, Vusi Khumalo, Jabu Nkosi and Mabi Thobejane. They all agreed to support me for free.

Brian and the Scottish AAM took care of all the logistics, including flights, accommodation and meals. Billy functioned as my personal manager and took turns driving the bus with my tour manager, Angela. I performed in four of the cities that gave Nelson Mandela the Freedom of the City – Aberdeen, Dundee, Kingston Upon Hull and Glasgow. We also had performances in Liverpool, Islwyn and Edinburgh. In each city we had full houses. It was a magical success. In Liverpool my dear brother and friend Julian Bahula supported me. It was great to be united with him after so many years.

Like many other artists who supported the ANC during the Struggle, I did this not for the acclaim, recognition or hope of personal gain. I, along with millions of other “inxiles” suffered just as much if not more than the exiles. We weathered the storms of teargas, rubber bullets and real bullets that killed many people, including children. We endured police harassment on a daily basis, incarcerations, and saw people being beaten with sjamboks. We were humiliated and insulted every time we were called “k ***** ”. WITH a career spanning over 40 years, Marah Louw is counted among South Africa’s musical and entertainment industry royalty and has a powerful and memorable story to tell.

This book is the reader’s front-row ticket to the joys, sadness, triumphs and setbacks that have been part of this legend’s life.

Even though she is a celebrity, her story aims to show that stars, no matter how bright, are human too. It also delves into her family secrets and her search for truth.

As one of South Africa’s most iconic entertainers, Marah has had an illustrious career. She performed at the Mandela Concert at London’s Wembley Stadium and she sang at the Newsmaker of the Year Awards, presented to Nelson Mandela and FW de Klerk, and in honour of the late Chris Hani.

She appeared with Nelson Mandela during his visit to Glasgow in 1993 and sang at George Square and The Royal Concert Hall. In 1994 she sang at the inauguration

I’m not saying all this to undermine the exiles. All black people, including coloureds and Indians, as well as the whites who were in solidarity with us, were all part of the Struggle for the liberation of all in this beloved country. I take offence when I hear exiles insinuating that all those who didn’t go into exile were collaborators. It is an insult to the of President Nelson Mandela and the Freedom Day Celebrations at the Union Buildings in Pretoria.

In 2001, Marah produced the successful musical concert which featured top South African artists including Hugh Masekela. Marah translated the music of

into Zulu for the Walt Disney Corporation and performed the theme song in Zulu. She was also an judge from 2003 until 2010. She had a lead role on the SABC2 television soap opera

and is currently acting in the Mzansi Magic telenovela millions who, after more than 20 years into this democracy, are still going to bed without a meal, a job or a roof over their heads, are still being denied basic rights, still do not own land.

I did this because I believed in the ANC, the PAC and other political parties; in the people who took part in the Struggle, inside and outside of the country, including Nelson Mandela, Walter Sisulu, Robert Sobukwe and Steve Biko. I believed in the many who spent most of their lives imprisoned and all our unsung heroes, people who were entitled to a better life than the one we were being subjected to. So it was important for me to heed the call to travel and perform for free to raise funds for the ANC, who were our hope of freedom and democracy.

It was disheartening, however, that the ANC responded to my contribution with silence. A simple letter of acknowledgement would have sufficed. But that never happened, even though a lot of funds were raised…

In 1990, after Mandela was released, I got a phone call from Bra Wally Serote from the ANC cultural desk inviting me to London to perform for a concert, entitled Nelson Mandela: An International Tribute for a Free South Africa, at Wembley Stadium. At the time I was in a musical at the Market Warehouse called Blues In The Night. I was so excited I immediately asked the directors to find a replacement. Nothing would make me pass up the honour of singing for Mandela at Wembley Stadium.

The autobiography is published by Jacana Media at a recommended retail price of R250.