Ntombenhle Khathwane writes:

I had long decided that I won’t cry when Mandela dies. He has lived a long life, at 95 years he has lived longer than most will ever, therefore I should celebrate his life.

Yet as soon as I heard he had died and started watching the various news channels reflect on his life, I wept inconsolably for hours!

I did not cry because I know Madiba and his family or have a relationship or attachment to him. I could’ve been crying because we have lost an inspiring icon who has directly affected my life as a black woman living in South Africa, and who is now able to pursue her dreams in a way that a woman my age wouldn’t have been able to in 1978. But I realised I was crying because Nelson Mandela makes me feel inadequate.

As I look at his compassionate eyes, and his genuine smile, I realise that he was such a good person, in a way that I will probably never be. And it saddens me because we really could do with more good people in the world, especially genuinely good leaders.

As humans, we all have the capacity to be good, not just at heart but in a way that touches many others. But we often don’t bother to try. Yet Mandela did just that.

He and many with him chose to pursue freedom for themselves and all of us to the detriment of their own lives, their families and their dreams. Mandela chose to risk his life at a time when it seemed pointless. At some point the pursuit of freedom, the pursuit of justice, of equality became his being in a way we may never see again because it is very difficult to become a selfless person.

And because of this, Mandela makes me feel inadequate. Every single day for decades he chose to pursue values that eventually caused us black South Africans to be free. He then went beyond that and espoused values of forgiveness and reconciliation, values that all South Africans are struggling to embrace today. He chose goodness at every turn. That is a very, very difficult thing to do! Every day, like every other person out there, I get the opportunity to do something good or to contribute to a good cause one way or the other. I am always the first to cry when I read about the atrocities humans commit against each other. I am especially touched when I read about poverty and racism and about violence against women and children. He who could have lived a good life for a black person under apartheid, chose to live most of his 95 years, choosing to make a real difference to those around him when he didn’t really have to and when it could have meant losing his life. The life of Mandela makes me realise I am a coward. He was a man, and therefore made mistakes and made choices others would not agree with, but he made those choices with conviction and believed that they were right. And that is much better than those of us that sit and look at what’s wrong in the world, what should be done to correct things in the world, what wrong decisions world leaders make everyday, and yet do nothing but criticise those who risk their lives, time and reputations to pursue that which they think is right, just and good.

I am determined to get over my selfishness, my cowardice and make a difference in my own small way. Not in pursuit of fame or recognition, but in pursuit of living a purposeful life, so when I look back at my days I do not feel inadequate.