Life | Legend | Myth: A Eulogy

Guest Writer A. Jewnarain, author of Skyf and other underground hits, features today with a poignant piece, which was purposefully held back until the hype ceased.

Enjoy - Kenkisan

 

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After trying to write, say, express something all night, finding words inadequate.I am left with a mix of memories and ideals, and an amorphous new weight. I remember that day in '94, i was 9, a man and a woman marched through triumphant sea of people, warm smiles, arms upraised. I remember my grandfather being so happy, in our living room in Newlands West. I remember looking across the Umgeni, and shouting to a group of people on the far bank, "VIVA", they returned. Then growing up here, seeing just what a man is capable of, as custodian of millions, as a symbol. Seeing just what time and care it might take to heal such wounds in a national psyche. Illusions shattered, illusions adopted for too long. Illusions required?

When does someone pass from life into legend? and what does that mean anymore? when legends are cheap and things not always what they seem? when does an old man get to truly rest after suffering with his brothers and sisters for the sins of many.

There is Love here, there is hope, and as always a world torn by greed, fear and the threat of empire and strife. These ideals, these strengths, these beliefs, let them not be for nothing. All things are imperfect, sometimes it is the imperfection that drives the miraculous, the beautiful, the true. A wave of emotion sweeps through the land, may it flow in the right direction. Madiba, Nelson, as you rest in that place far far beyond stars and hearts, keep an eye on us, the children. help us still heal the beloved country. I love you all.