Sunday Times

Road to sainthood

The beatificat­ion of Benedict Daswa

- BEAUREGARD TROMP trompb@sundaytime­s.co.za

TODAY Tshimangad­zo Benedict Daswa will stand alongside Nelson Mandela.

And in front of a stove on a hillside on the outskirts of Thohoyando­u an old woman is smiling for this is what she believes.

“Every day when I wake up I pray for my son and all the people of God. And at night, I pray for the blessing to come and thank God that my son is being honoured, like Mandela when he came out of prison,” his mother, 93-year-old Thidziambi Daswa, said this week.

In the village of Mbahe, a three-tiered steel stage has taken shape as roads are scraped and watered and workers hack at defiant shrubs.

The man blessed by the Vatican may still be decades away from sainthood, but for many this is just a small detail. Women dressed in their Sunday best jostle to have their picture taken beside the picture of South Africa’s very own “saint”, Benedict Daswa.

Government ministers and church cardinals will join thousands today for the official beatificat­ion, but for now Thidziambi Daswa is more intent on ensuring that her “skinny” grandson visiting from Joburg gets fed.

With “the help of God” she has always provided and will ensure her family has the fortitude for the long day of celebratin­g her son’s life.

“I was baptised as a Catholic and I have come to believe that everything comes from God — even if it’s lightning,” she says.

More than 25 years ago, the village of Mbahe faced a series of floods and lightning strikes. Rumours became reality and people embarked on a witchhunt, mandating every villager to pay R5 towards the effort.

Benedict refused, insisting the superstiti­on went against his faith. Days later he was ambushed, beaten and had boiling water poured over him. In the moments before he died, Benedict begged a final moment in prayer. “The pain, it was too much,” says Thidziambi.

For years, the devout commemorat­ed Benedict, until it reached the ears of the Vatican, where, after a thorough investigat­ion, it was declared the former principal and community leader had died a martyr for his faith.

In January this year, the pope approved the beatificat­ion to proceed, a step towards sainthood. The church has called for the devout to pray for Benedict to intercede on their behalf. Should a miracle occur through Benedict’s intercessi­on, he will then be declared a saint.

For years, Thidziambi squirrelle­d away her pension until she could afford a tombstone for her son. “Even if I die, there would be a mark to honour my son,” she explains.

It was her son who convinced her to become a Catholic. She and her sister took turns to attend the only church in the area, one always having to tend to the livestock.

At the time, to be admitted as a member of a church, one had to attend classes that inevitably required travelling great distances from their rural home. Benedict stepped in and offered to take his mother for Catholicis­m classes, eventually leading to her baptism.

“Despite his role as a principal and a community leader, he still respected me as a mother. When he came home he was just my son,” Thidziambi recalled.

After her son’s killing, she continued her practice of attending church. On one such walk she encountere­d a large group of villagers. Tradition dictated that the group clear a path for her. They stood fast. Thidziambi was forced to the other side of the road, a huge slight in this deeply traditiona­l place where elders are treated with reverence. The affront was like a slap in the face for a woman who could recount the lineage of most in that crowd.

“It left me very sad. It made it very difficult to continue my faith,” she says.

Family members who lived in other parts of South Africa beseeched her to move from the inhospitab­le village. “Because of what happened to my son I needed to stay here. I needed to keep my faith and follow my son, even if they kill me.”

After the murder, Thidziambi hoped those who mutilated her son would be punished. A number of people were arrested but the court case was repeatedly postponed. Finally, with no witnesses willing to testify, the accused were released.

“I always meet them. We greet. We talk to each other. I have forgiven them,” she says.

All the young men who participat­ed in the killing of her son are grown men now with jobs and families of their own.

Some perpetrato­rs are not as forgiving as Thidziambi. Two months ago, some passed her house, singing: “When we killed Benedict we were forced to hide in the bush to hide from police.”

Some who have tried to put the killing behind them have now been forced to confront their ghosts as children ask about this man whose name is mentioned so often these days.

Two of the men said to be responsibl­e for the killing will be marshals at the event today.

Community leaders believe the event will help heal a community still clearly haunted by the killing 25 years ago.

Two weeks ago, Benedict’s remains were exhumed and a bone fragment and piece of cloth he was buried in were removed, to be taken to the Vatican as relics. His body was draped in a traditiona­l Venda cloth, sealed and reburied at a church in his home village, which he had helped build.

The body will be moved to the Benedict Daswa Shrine, due to be unveiled today with dignitarie­s including Deputy President Cyril Ramaphosa and Cardinal Angelo Amato, the Vatican’s Prefect for the Causes of Saints present.

About 30 000 Catholics and locals are expected to attend.

I needed to keep my faith and follow my son, even if they kill me

 ??  ??
 ?? Picture: KEVIN SUTHERLAND ?? COMMUNAL HEALING: Congregati­on members gather at the Assumption of Mary Church to visit the shrine of Benedict Daswa, who is to be honoured at a ceremony today
Picture: KEVIN SUTHERLAND COMMUNAL HEALING: Congregati­on members gather at the Assumption of Mary Church to visit the shrine of Benedict Daswa, who is to be honoured at a ceremony today
 ??  ?? CHURCH-GOER: Benedict Daswa’s mother, Thidziambi Daswa
CHURCH-GOER: Benedict Daswa’s mother, Thidziambi Daswa

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from South Africa