The content on this page is not written by Polity.org.za, but is supplied by third parties. This content does not constitute news reporting by Polity.org.za.
I drove to Mangaung on my own and saw parts of the country where our ancestors would have walked and where they would have had cows in pastures. I pictured the horse trails of the colonizers as they drove their cattle and caravans to the north and some, staying along the way.
The Vaal River a welcome respite after traversing the mountains and other less rough terrain.There was pain as land was divested and taken from the hands of the original pastoralists on the way to Mangaung.
The first place I stopped at was the church at Waaihoek, it looked serene and ready to be serve prayers again. This time with a little difference, a Kraal had been erected to allow an appropriate place for communion with the forefathers. Two worlds locked together forever.
Mangaung was a buzz with activity, the taxi rank next to the church seemed busier than the previous time I had been there, men and women in hardhats were smoothing the exterior surface of the church. Registration at the University of Free State was my next stop, hundreds of people waiting in line to be recognized as politicians, historians, musicians, media, foreign guests and more. Amidst the organized chaos was an air of excitement. Not many people will be able to say. I was there! I made it to Mangaung to celebrate one hundred years of the ANC.
Whilst waiting, I engaged in the chatter, memories of older comrades, none had been at the founding, but had found the ANC along the way of their lives. It was ever present like a relative, people knew intimate details of one or other event, one or other person who they had shared time in prison with, had attended an ANC conference with, had lived through exile and the violence of the Bantustans and the pass laws and had lived to the many, many mass based resistance campaigns of the ANC.
Mangaung is still a relatively small city, and of course there would never be enough hotels and guesthouses to sleep the thousands that would come from every corner of the country.
The station was my next stop. Rehearsals were in progress, Security teams and Marshalls were being briefed. The ANC colours were everywhere! Excitement was beginning take over my senses. Outside the stadium, busses had arrived from several outside provinces and people were beginning to make their beds for the night in busses and on the grass, wherever there was grass.
A few foreign delegations had come with more people than they had initially thought would come, this seemed like a crisis, but not for the market forces who put their hotel and guest house rooms up to as much as R5 000 per night.
The atmosphere in the parking lot where the busses had parked was celebratory and people had come to be a part of a special moment. Of course of course! There were complaints and perfection in the situation was a remote outside chance, there were rooms, or, there were not, we all had to do with what was available. I thought of this moment 100 years ago, fewer people, in a Boer Republic, with hostility towards the people gathering, 50 years ago, there would have been armed soldiers and barbed wire around the stadium.
30 years ago, there would have been detentions and rubber bullets and tear gas. That night on the 7 January there were free people, waiting to celebrate.
I attended the gala dinner for a brief two hours, and walked in when Me Ruth Mompati was speaking, she had no notes, and she spoke in a clear voice and as always was relevant to the cause of women and what we still needed to do to deepen our emancipation. I heard two of the 29 or so Heads of State who were present, I was moved my the speech of the former President of Tanzania, who spoke as if he too were a member of the ANC, this too was his organization, he spoke with a passion of the journey to overcome colonization and defeat the apartheid machine.
He spoke like a father who was proud and saw what lay ahead was work and pragmatism. At midnight a flame was lit at the Waaihoek church, a flame that will travel throughout the country. The flames lit the dark night and the flames whispered, "We are free, are home, we have work to be done, we have to unite our people" This is how I saw it, that night at Waaihoek.
Then came the day, and the media were ready to listen some with crooked ears, for the story they had already written, some with freshness and celebrating, they too were in a country that was the home of the Oldest Liberation Movement in Africa.
The stadium was overflowing, the message from the ANC was read and then the heavens opened and it rained, as it does on Africa when an important moment has come. This was that moment. People left the seats to find shelter from the burning sun and then the calming rain.
That event has passed and the time for action has arrived. Action to strengthen the ANC in every branch, to teach the values of the ANC to its members, to serve the people and say as Lennon said, EVERYTHING FOR THE PEOPLE, NOTHING AGAINST THE PEOPLE" This is our time to make the dream of a South Africa where everything works for everyone comes about.
EMAIL THIS ARTICLE SAVE THIS ARTICLE FEEDBACK
To subscribe email subscriptions@creamermedia.co.za or click here
To advertise email advertising@creamermedia.co.za or click here







