Chapter 1
Troublemaker
The boy’s name had been Rolihlahla (Roh-lee-LAH-lah). In his native language, the word meant tree shaker. But it also meant troublemaker. The boy’s father was chief of the people called the Thembu tribe. Like many chiefs, he had more than one wife, and he also had thirteen children. The boy’s mother, Nosekeni Fanny, was her husband’s third wife. Rolihlahla was the first of his mother’s four children. He was born on July 18, 1918.
At the time, South Africa was ruled by the British. The white government strictly controlled what black South Africans did and where they went. Black people had to stay in their own neighborhoods and villages, which were called homelands. If a black person left his homeland for any reason, he had to carry a special pass that gave him permission to travel, even if he was only going to a white neighborhood to work for the day. A black person without a good reason for being in a white neighborhood would be arrested.
When Rolihlahla’s father ignored a summons from the British government to appear in court, he was stripped of his title and most of his land and cattle. The boy and his mother went to live in the village where she’d been born. The boy went to a school run by Christian missionaries from Europe. For his first day of school his father had given him a pair of his own trousers cut off at the knee to replace the blanket dyed in red clay he wore at home. When the boy got to school his teacher gave him something else: a Western name. From that day on, Rolihlahla would be called Nelson. Nelson Mandela.
Nelson shared three small huts with his mother and younger sisters. He brought sheep and calves to and from the pasture. His favorite game was stick fighting—a traditional South African sport that is a bit like sword fighting. Players hold two sticks, one in each hand. They try to strike while blocking at the same time. Nelson was a champion in his village.
It was always a special time when his father visited the family. However, during one of his visits home, Nelson’s father became sick and died. Not only was his father gone, but Nelson would no longer live in the village with his sisters and mother. He was going to have a new foster father: Jongintaba.
Nelson and his mother walked west from the village carrying all of Nelson’s belongings. They walked all day on rocky roads. When they arrived, Nelson couldn’t believe his eyes. He had never seen a home as big as this one. A fancy car drove through the open gate. The man who stepped out was short and heavy and wore a European-style suit. This was Jongintaba.
Although Nelson’s new world intrigued him, it was scary being in a strange place all alone. Luckily Jongintaba had a son named Justice, who was four years older than Nelson. The boys hunted with slings, explored the countryside, and raced horses. Nelson went to a better school than he had in the village. He studied English, history, and geography. But he learned the most by going to meetings with the tribal elders. Nelson dreamed that one day he might be a great leader like his foster father.
Nelson loved to listen to stories of African heroes of the past, the men who fought against the Dutch and the British. In these stories black South Africans were ruled by their own kings like Jongintaba. “When the Europeans came to Africa,” the tribal elders said, “they had the Bible and we had the land. They said, ‘Let us pray.’ We closed our eyes. When we opened them, we had the Bible and they had the land.”
