MADIBA’S CIRCUS
A True Story set in KZN
Written by
Marilyn Mills
For the
OPEN Category
of the The Witness
Short Story Competition.
It was Madiba’s 75th
birthday year and the town of Pietermaritzburg was chosen as the venue for his
party. A circus had been hired and
disabled children and their carers from previously disadvantaged communities had
been invited to attend.
The venue decided upon was that of
Hilton College and the circus was to be set up on their rugby fields. I wanted to go!
Rumour had it that a friend of mine
had won the contract to cater for the luncheon Madiba was hosting for 300
dignitaries before the circus performance.
Many dignitaries of the new government would be attending and I wanted
to be there so badly.
Why?
I wanted to catch a glimpse of the
man I had grown up hearing was a terrible bad terrorist who led an army of
monsters who would kill us white people at a drop of a hat. This is what the media of the time tried to
brainwash us with. I wanted to see the
man who had been released from prison after 27 years and preached forgiveness
and reconciliation.
I was lucky. They needed waitresses to help on the day
and I volunteered.
Wear black and white, I was told, and
be there early.
The day dawned bright and
chilly. It was a July morning and the
drive up the hill to Hilton, which has always held me in awe at the best of
times, was a most memorable and exciting one.
My thoughts were all over the place.
My little ‘muk and druk’ camera was placed firmly in my handbag and I
was on my way to a great adventure.
A middle aged white woman living in
South Africa was about to experience an adventure of a lifetime!
There was not much activity when I
arrived at the gates of the school even though such a high profile person would
be arriving. No stringent security
checks were in place that I could see.
I had expected to be frisked and my
car checked but nothing like that happened.
Our little band of ladies was put to work setting tables, arranging
flowers and helping set up for the luncheon.
We were all so excited and nervous at the same time. Not knowing what to expect.
I remember going for a walk during a
tea break and seeing the activities all around the circus tent which had been
set up the previous day on the rugby fields.
Police had started arriving with the bomb squad and their sniffer dogs. They searched the circus tent and surrounds
then came down to the marquee where the luncheon was going to be held. They searched in the kitchen and the
surrounding clubhouse where we had set up serving stations.
Then the buses full of singing
children started arriving. It seemed
like hundreds of them. The school
fields were soon bumper to bumper with buses from far and near and children on
crutches and in wheelchairs with their carers looking after them were milling
all around. The early morning solitude
was quietly disappearing and the excitement and anticipation in the air was
palpable.
Rumours circulated that Madiba was
flying in by helicopter at 12 noon. We
all got ourselves spruced up and the wait began!
Huge pots of curried beef, breyani
and chicken curry were bubbling on the industrial stoves together with pots of
rice. Salads and sambals were made and
rolls buttered and covered. The
puddings were being prepared with just the last minute assembly to be
done. Everything was under control.
The shout went up ‘Madiba had landed!’
We all went outside to see if we
could spot him. Eventually after a long
time a golf cart came trundling by and in it sat a formidable white woman and a
stately old man. My heart did a flip. There he was in the flesh and although I was
quite far away I could still see him clearly.
His body guards surrounded him which prevented people getting too
close.
The Pietermaritzburg contingent
welcomed him and then he was led away by his secretary to rest for half an
hour. I was agog. Imagine him having a white secretary and
Afrikaans at that!
With that a murmur started
circulating from the kitchen. Disaster
was happening. The breyani had
turned. It was bubbling and frothing. That is not what breyani should do! My poor friend was as white as a sheet. How was she going to be able to feed the 300
dignitaries? We all offered her our
support and love and said it was one of those things. The instructions went out to serve
sparingly.
Eventually the marquee started
filling up. There were so many people I
had seen on TV and in the newspaper.
Madiba came out from the back of the clubhouse and as he walked down I
tried to take a photo of him with my trusty camera but his bodyguards pushed me
out of the way. None to softly either I
might add. I had not realised that his
eyesight had been affected by the work he had been forced to do in the quarry
on Robben Island and that he suffered badly when flashes went off around
him. This was explained by the master
of ceremonies when everybody was seated.
We were all waiting at our stations,
ladles in hand ready to serve.
The speeches went on for a very long
time and as I watched Madiba rise to deliver his speech I got quite
emotional. It was surreal. Here was the man we had been told to be
really afraid of and when he spoke he spoke so gently and what he said made so
much sense. Eventually the tears were
running freely. What an injustice had
been done to so many.
After his speech things moved rapidly
and I cannot remember much more of the events as there were only a few of us
and a lot of them to feed. Messages
kept coming from the kitchen to dish sparingly in case we ran out of food. We should not have been worried there was
more than enough and lots left over.
Madiba’s eating habits were very frugal and simple. He requested a banana and a bit of fruit
salad as his pudding. The lavish puddings
and lashings of cream were left for his guests.
Eventually as the time drew near for
Madiba to make his way to the circus where hundreds of excited children waited
to greet him he started making his way back to the clubhouse for another
rest. He was helped by his secretary
and surrounded by his bodyguards. All
of a sudden he broke ranks and started walking towards us as we stood behind
our stations.
That great man stopped and spoke to
each one of us, shook our hands and thanked us for the hard work we had put
into making his luncheon such a memorable one.
I remember an almost electric shock went through my body as he took my
hand. I answered ‘It was a pleasure and
thank you for being you.’ Madiba just
smiled as our eyes met.
He ambled to the kitchen and there
were screams of delight as the kitchen staff realised he had come to visit them
and to shake their hands. They broke
into song and he did a little ‘Madiba’ shuffle with them.
The rest of the day was a blur as we
cleaned up and packed away cutlery and crockery. Each one of us was touched in such a way
that we would never be the same again.
I could only imagine what fun those dear children had that day and the
influence he had on them and their carers.
As we have reached 21 years of
democracy we have seen many good things and a lot of lousy things in our
rainbow nation. We have been affected
by so much and one often wonders where to from here? I sometimes despair about our lost children
and the education they have not received and wonder what Madiba would have to
say but on the day of Madiba’s Circus the hope and the love that abounded in
those school grounds was certainly a red letter day for me and the disabled
children of Kwa Zulu Natal.
(Semi finalist in the Witness True Stories Competition 2015)
No comments:
Post a Comment