Tutu’s Commission 

#VYLTP visited the Arch Desmond Tutu, we could ask him questions but there was not enough time. In fact his doctor had just declared the end of all conversations with immediate effect. I thought well, I am not letting him go before he answers this one question. One I was confident he would want to answer. We are his life’s work after all. We are it. I said: “What advice would you give our generation of Christian Leaders in our country, particularly because we must continue the work that began before us.” (We may think that we are doing something but no one ever does anything in a vacuum).He responds partially smiling. Is South Africa after all not the apple 󾁛of his eye and his life’s work? He says: “I don’t want to give you advice, that’s never a good idea but I will say this. MAKE THIS COUNTRY BEAUTIFUL, especially for the poor.”

He smiled and rose according to his doctor’s command. 

I wish you heard it from his own voice, every word is weighty and well considered. It comes from a place where words are no longer just words but they are weighed, considered and they come from a long well lived life, they come from words that are now so few because each word could be his last though he may live past a hundred. #DesmondTutu #wordsofwisdom #commissioning #youngSAleaders #leadership #SouthAfrica 🇿🇦


South Africa through the eyes of a Newcomer 

She had only been in South Africa for two whole days when she heard a white South African ask: “What can whiteSouth Africans do to respond to the racial inequality?” He has a good heart.She too has a good heart and was taken aback that such a question can be asked in such a country.

“Isn’t it obvious? 

Can’t they see?” 

The question overwhelmed her. What causes such blindness she wondered. And yet the white SA in all his intelligence cannot see the obvious. It is the same reaction I feel when people didn’t know what was happening to black people during apartheid. And so apartheid continues because of this inability to see the apparent. 
I watched her look at shacks as we drove past. She looked at the shacks in a manner that tore my heart.

 I didn’t want to look at her while she was looking. But I couldn’t shake off what I felt and saw through her eyes though she spoke not a single word. The wall that separated the shacks from the free way suddenly felt like apartheid.

 It felt like the pain of where she comes from. A place others worship by supporting her oppression in the name of God. I watched her look, and I suffered.

Hector Peterson Merorial: Stellenbosch University 

After nothing was left unsaid at the Hector Peterson Memorial Lecture at the famous foundations of apartheid, Stellenbosch University Theology Department. Effectively the theology that empowered the apartheid regime to kill a little 12 year old mercilessly, the current young leaders who are more than frustrated with the university’s apartheid culture poured their souls and took a stand within the same walls that had designed their future. A future not unlike Hectors perhaps not using guns this time but using methods of exclusion. Methods not different from what Hector was shot for. They clearly stated their intentions and painted an image of the future they want and did not mince their words about what would take place should the same methods of oppression persist. 
An older Afrikaaner man passed behind my back, enraged after having a discussion with some of the speakers. He had said that he would not be threatened. He must be referring to the students’ statements. 
Long after he has rushed out of the door, long after the revolutionary words and hours after I have lamented the state of being of the older coloured people there. A state I felt was what apartheid spirit does to people who are not white. I wanted them to be proud but I could see people who have been inwardly crushed just like apartheid used to do to people. Black Students have an advantage because they will leave that culture of oppression. They can also confront boldly as they have but the ones who work there are bound and the environment is not there for them. 
After my heart went out to them, the angry Afrikaaner emerged and I pitied him the most. He may be racist. He maybe a proud Afrikaaner who refuses to change but it was as if the pride of the Afrikaaners has been broken. The words cracked something. There is no going back any more than we can bring back Hector Peterson. 
Today something fundamental shifted. We will see what it will look like though it will kick back like the anger of the old man. 
Beneath his anger I could not help but pity him. For his human pain however wrong his beliefs. There is a man hurting and an identity that was built around diminishing the humanity of others has been challenged. 
Truly, who is an Afrikaaner when he is free? When his identity is not built around false superiority or accumulating wealth at the expense of those he considers less? 
He is right to be angry because the old is losing its power though it pretends to still be strong. He must be angry and he must mourn and he must change and discover true freedom that will help him see himself and his culture with new eyes. Not the eyes apartheid gave him.  

Dancing On Gold 

I love the position of the kneeling young man, beating the drum and the young women seated. 

They look so regal. 

It’s time to uplift Africa’s daughters. Beat the drum and make the sound. Declare it from Robben Island to all of Africa. 

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