By Morakabe Raks Seakhoa
My first encounter with Comrade Andrew Mlangeni was in late 1979 or early 1980 on Robben Island after he and his fellow Rivonia Treason Trial prisoners, Nelson Mandela, Govan Mbeki, Walter Sisulu, Elias Motsoaledi, Raymond Mhlaba and Ahmed Kathrada, had had one of their consultations with their lawyers about weeds from the ocean for export, apparently to make perfumes in far-flung lands such as Taiwan, we were told.
Some of us in the group had just arrived on the Island and were clearly overawed to meet these famous Rivonia Treason Trial heroes when they stopped to greet us. In turn, we introduced ourselves and they did the same and, as if they felt our intimidation in their presence, relaxed the mood by telling us that “we know you come here with this misconception that we are larger than life”.
They then told us that “we are just like you, we are not larger than life, even though we might be seen to be in the leadership of the organisation". This organisation is ours together to fight for the liberation of our country and people, they said, and, as leaders “we make mistakes, of which you have a duty to correct us if we are taking the organisation in the wrong direction”.
And, “Chaps, if we don’t listen and correct our mistakes, it becomes your responsibility to remove us from the leadership and lead the organisation in the right path.”
For me and, I guess, the rest of the us in the group that day, this was such a refreshing take on true leadership, the sheer selflessness and profundity of it all, for men of their world-renowned stature to address us much younger boys as their equals who must also “correct us”!
Even though we lived in different sections of the prison, Comrade Mlangeni and his co-accused’s leadership and influence permeated throughout the island.
What was central to their very DNA was a heightened sense of fairness, of recontextualising our outlook on life, our world view, to respect and treat with dignity all people, especially women, whose continued oppression meant that the liberation we were fighting for would be impotent.
At every opportunity, you learned that an argument is won by sheer power of reasoning, rationale and persuasion, that violence against anyone, especially against women, can only mean the poverty of your thought or thinking!
Comrade Mlangeni’s life was, in jail and outside, steeped in the belief and teachings to live and work with what you have, and resist or never take favours you did not ask for. This was a sure way to avoid inevitable traps of “paybacks” in later days for favours done for you when you did not ask for them. Another moniker for corruption!
Through the force of example, skill and experience, they somehow honed a way of making you feel less self-conscious of your age, newness in prison, embarrassment about some new words and concepts when you were inspanned into novel pursuits like umrhabulo (mandatory political education classes), poverty or lack of support from home or simply that sense of less-worthiness.
A good example of this is what they introduced to us as Kolkhoz, a Russian contraction of (socialist) collective ownership or a system of a common pool of financial and other resources to support each other equally during birthdays, special holidays and especially festive periods, most particularly those of us whose parents were too poor to even afford to pay you a visit for the duration of your imprisonment.
The fact that this practice of having each other’s backs has disappeared towards and since the dawn of our freedom, where former freedom fighters, including and especially ex- political prisoners who have all sacrificed so much for us to live in freedom and democracy, is a pain that stayed with and weighed heavily on Comrade Mlangeni until his last breath, as he was part of the Ex-Political Prisoners’ Association whose efforts to better their sorry plight continue unabated.
Comrade Mlangeni belonged to that rare breed of liberation fighters who taught us to “do the right thing even when no one is watching”. His words and deeds against corruption wherever it reared its ugly head, were legendary. He minced no words when he saw incompetence and greed in his own comrades, or neglect of the still-exploited working class and the suffering poor by some of those who were supposed to be their liberators.
True to his adage of being “the backroom boy”, it is as if he made sure that, when his day was done, he would have taken care of all his fellow Rivonia Trialists. He is the last of this illustrious and rare crop of revolutionaries to leave this world who fought to see our country free of political oppression and social exploitation.
For ex-political prisoners, freedom fighters, revolutionaries and many in social organisations, he was an enduring and towering epitome of fortitude, steadfastness, fairness and moral greatness.
Robala ka Khotso le khutso, Mohlabani! Your revolutionary spirit lives!
* Seakhoa is a former Robben Island prisoner and member of the Robben Island Museum and World Heritage Site Council