Honor our father
At site of Mandela trial, it’s like a death in the family
PRETORIA, South Africa — Anthony Ncongwane sat behind bars at the Palace of Justice on Sunday morning. Just as Nelson Mandela did when he was sentenced in an infamous1964 trial to life behind bars in an apartheid kangaroo courthouse facing Church Square in this capital city. But today Ncongwane sits behind the bars of an iron security gate wearing a security guard’s uniform, protecting this now iconic landmark.
“The only reason I even have this job is because of Nelson Mandela,” he says, smiling with a tooth capped with gold likely mined in the Western Cape. “I’m working to pay my way through music college that I would not be allowed to attend if it had not been for Nelson Mandela. Today is a day of prayer and remembrance for Mandela and I have been praying for him as I sit here guarding the building where they sentenced him for fighting for people like me who will live in freedom because of his sacrifices. I could not get to church to pray today because I have this job because of Nelson Mandela.”
He laughed in an ironic way and gazed through the metal bars at sunny Church Square dotted with four fresh fruit stands, portrait artists, young couples holding hands, and black families playing with their children on verdant lawns in 81- degree weather as flags fluttered at half- staff above a grotesque monument to Paul Kruger, the father er of apartheid, that stands in daily shame e in the center of this public park like a shrine ne to human hate.
Meanwhile, in Kruger’s long and dirty shadow, a dozen sweaty black workers erected a steel “marquee” with long sturdy ropes, an A- frame armature for a temporary interfaith congregation of worship that will assemble here on Tuesday to honor Nelson Mandela, the secular patron saint of South Africa.
“It’s like a death in the family,” says Bennie Swaenpoele, 27, operations director of the project. “I must say as a white man it’s a deep honor to play a part in Nelson Mandela’s memorial service. He was an extraordinary man who through forgiveness and love helped build a better South Africa. I learned that he died from my dad who was a warden on Robben Island when Mandela was a prisoner there. He rang me up last Friday to tell me he had sad news. We were both very sad about his passing. But his accomplishments will live forever.”
Job Lekgetho was one of a dozen black men erecting the steel marquee. “Instead of church today I honor our father Nelson Mandela by working,” he says. “He was sentenced the year I was born and when he was released in 1990 I had heard so much about him, listened to so many speeches, that I drove 12 hours to Qunu, his home village, to see this living legend in person. . . . Today I live with equal rights, a good job, in a nation where my children will never know the racism and apartheid I knew growing up. I love that we are having this service for Nelson Mandela in Church Square where Paul Kruger’s statue stands. Also facing the Palace of Justice where Mandela was sentenced to 27 years that changed history.”
Little did the apartheid jurists know that day that when they sentenced Mandela they had also rendered apartheid a slow motion death sentence.
“They picked the wrong guy,” said Lekgetho. “Nelson Mandela came out and killed apartheid with kindness and forgiveness. On Tuesday I’ll pray. Today I’ll work for our father.”
Sitting across from Church Square at the outdoor Café Richie three black men sat sipping cold Peroni beers in the shade of a veranda. “Before 1994 we could not sit here drinking a beer,” said Monti Motshwane, 58, his posture as ramrod straight as Mandela’s.
“Church Square was 100% white then,” adds Lector Nonyemangene.
“No black man would be allowed here,” said Swika Letsoalo.
All three lived in Atteridgeville until the apartheid urban planners decided that they wanted that neighborhood exclusively for whites. “We were just forced to pack and relocate to Lady Selbourne,” says Motshwane. “Now, you cannot credit only Nelson Mandela for putting an end to this. It was the entire ANC ( African National Congress). But when Mandela was released in 1990 and began negotiations things began to change. Even after Chris Hani, head of staff of the militant wing of ANC, was assassinated by apartheid forces in 1993 and the country looked ready to plunge into civil war, Mandela went on TV and gave a thrilling speech, insisting we continue negotiations.”
“We knew then that end of apartheid was near,” says Letsoalo.
“The next year we had our first free election,” says Motshwane, pouring a fresh beer. “I was 37 years old the first time I ever voted. We stood on mile- long queues. It was simply thrilling. A day none of us will ever, ever forget.“
And across the square in the Palace of Justice Anthony Ncongwane was a black college kid with a job, neither of which would have been possible before Mandela was elected in 1994.
“All my life I learned about this great man,” he says. “He is the father of our nation. My parents tell me of the terrible situation under apartheid. How there were no jobs, no rights. My parents and my teachers make sure people my age remember every day that he gave us a chance to be raised in freedom. I will never forget that. Whenever I come here to work I think about him standing here inside in handcuffs telling the judge that he was willing to die for freedom. It’s a sad but also a thrilling feeling to know that I guard the Palace of Justice where the trial that changed South Africa history happened.”
This is his legacy on the day of remembrance for Nelson Mandela.