Nkuhlu’s indelible mark will forever breathe life

Andile! Mchana! You are gone too soon. In 1994 when I met you, little did I know that one day I would stand over your grave to bid you farewell after a life so well lived ended so suddenly.

This moment is one of utter pain. But we have to be strong and rebuke death itself with the words of the poet:

Death be not proud,

Though some may call you mighty

Though some may call you dreadful,

Thou are not so.

Let’s be frank, you were a true maverick in everything you dared pursue. From your excellent academic rise ... your anchoring of student activism ... your rise into the public sector ... your success in business ventures, and, yes, if we are frank, your popularity with the fairer sex is a bit legendary, too.

But in all of this painting of four-and-a-half decades of a life lived your way, I wonder if you have any regrets other than maybe indulging too much in sweets, like me, causing us both to end up with the silent killer, diabetes.

But regrets I am sure would be few – too few to mention.

When many student leaders failed their exams during your time, you rebuked them not only in words, but by excelling in class and according yourself so well in the pursuit of academic excellence.

Partly you had little choice. With the likes of Professor Wiseman Nkuhlu, the definitive genius in your family, what excuse would you have had, really?

You and your twin, Ayanda, always startled your teachers and showed them how inadequate the curriculum was. This knack of excellence was to colour your entire life, right to the end.

You made an indelible mark in student politics. When I arrived at the University of Western Cape (UWC) in 1993 and made your acquaintance, I had no idea of the impact your maverick self would have on me. While I am my own man, I would be lying if I said your influence did not loom large in pushing me into UWC student politics in a way I had never imagined.

Then I was frankly not much interested. Having been stung by the student activism bug at Turfloop, I had come to UWC to hide essentially, and to try to get a second qualification. But you and Ayanda and Sango found me, and literally forced me into the local leadership of the South African Students Congress (Sasco).

That was a time when the organisation had to fight for its very life.

Those who dared cross your path found a formidable opponent, one able to dig to the depths of his grey matter in a most remarkable way and unleash a torrent in response to their challenge.

Your ability for deep strategy and for fancy footwork was unmatched. It is no exaggeration to describe you as a force to be reckoned with. Gosh, you could machinate. And your machinations saw Sasco rise from the ashes in 1995 and 1996 and reclaim its place in UWC politics.

But it was also under your robust leadership that the student movement had to rise to the new challenge of co-governance with our own government in power. We could no longer merely make demands, but had to dig into our intellectually to make the two seats we had on the university council count.

You were never a backbencher. You were part of a delegation that went to challenge the Minister of Higher Education, Blade Nzimande, in parliament, in pursuit of the new Higher Education Act. You left your mark.

Your impact on our political landscape was simply amazing. You immersed yourself in the progressive movement for decades. When it was not fashionable, your selfless courage saw you form the very core of the Congress of the People (Cope). Its demise not withstanding, this rebellion awoke the ANC from its slumber in many ways. And it was always hilarious when Terror Lekota tried to claim the credit for forming Cope. You were always there to remind him that you had to drag him, kicking and screaming, to that 702 press conference where he served “divorce papers” on the ANC.

You were one of the few able to tell him to shut up when required. Gosh, you were fearless. Always able and willing to speak your mind – even in an abrasive way if required.

Those who worked with you ahead of Polokwane knew well that if you put your mind to something it would be done. In your mind the notion of impossible was a nonsense. You were the eternal optimist and a thorough campaigner.

Your return to the ANC showed you had the courage of your convictions, that you were well able to see when a boat was about to sink, and knew when and how to change strategy and adopt new tactics in order to survive. You were a consummate politician. Something I am not, hence I didn’t always get you!

In business you surprised many as you became one of the youngest business moguls of our time. At least we can say you tasted the fruits of our freedom, and did not theorise about making this economy work for all.

From amongst our generation you have left a legacy that will surely be second to none. We can certainly learn a thing or two from you.

Your commitment to Zintle and your children was always admirable. They will always love you as you did them. You have left them a legacy. Your good deeds will be told for decades to come, filling them with pride and giving them solace after your untimely departure.

Your friendship with your identical twin Ayanda will remain the stuff of legends. But in our long association, you two had me fooled only once – because after getting to know you both there was no possibility of confusing the two.

Ayanda was always the reasonable one and you the “maverick dander head” if we are to put it bluntly. You startled many with your independence of thought yet there was a profound interdependence between you and he. You were soul mates, something rare these days as family and friends try instead to mimic each other.

By the way, you did not fool some of us with your good cop, bad cop routine. We saw through it. You had a beautiful relationship that must be celebrated.

He is going to miss you, but will find some solace in your big and loving family, the envy of many families. He will also surely find it through all of us who will continue to extol your virtues and continue to see you in him, because a large part of you will continue to live through him.

You fought a gigantic fight. You ran a fantastic race. You kept the faith until the very end. Your life was well lived. With your good works considered we can say to death once again “Death be not proud, some may call you mighty, some may call you dreadful, but though are not so.”

Before death arrived, there are 45 years of a full life well lived, 45 years of trail blazing that lit up the skies of our land! With your life we can say, death though shall die!

Until we meet again at the feet of the Most High, farewell Mchana! Fare thee well, Njeya!