I remember one autumn morning in 1995 at Mr Mandela’s house in Houghton, Johannesburg. It was a windy Saturday and the leaves of at least half a tree were dancing around the spotless cars we’d just cleaned, ready to depart.
I was standing chatting with Piet Irvia [Mandela’s driver] when the front door of the house opened. It was Tata and I could tell he’d just woken up and wanted to check the weather before his day started. He made himself visible for a few seconds and retreated back into the house.
Tata resurfaced about three minutes later, dressed in fluffy slippers and a bathrobe, with a broom in his hand. He gave us a friendly greeting and started sweeping the driveway. We were all stunned and didn’t really know what to do. I immediately froze and stood in admiration, watching the great Nelson Mandela sweeping the driveway.