The Biggest Fundraiser of My Life
Madiba was turning ninety and I was thirty-eight. I never had imagined that he would turn ninety or that I would still be with him at the age of thirty-eight. Yet it felt like time passed so quickly. I was starting to realize and comprehend the full value of my privileges and experiences. And, more than ever, I was willing to contribute whatever it took to ensure that his ninetieth was the biggest fundraiser in our organization’s history in his honour.
Madiba was no longer keen to leave the country to go on holiday. Like every year in January, the house in Houghton had to be closed for a few weeks to enable the staff to go on leave. The staff would also serve Madiba in Qunu, which meant that going to Qunu was not an option. Mrs Machel asked me to look at a few other options and I contacted a good friend, Jabu Mabuza, who is the Chairman of Tsogo Sun in South Africa to ask for advice. We decided on Noetzie where a few old castles are built on the shore, not easily accessible for the public. The castles are surrounded by the Knysna forest and Madiba loved sitting outside looking at the forest. Long after that holiday he would ask me sometimes: ‘By the way, Zeldina, you took us to the Knysna forest, right?’ ‘Yes Khulu,’ I would say, although he didn’t mean that I really took them but rather that I made the arrangements.
Early in the year we received a call from a former Minister of Foreign Affairs during the apartheid years, Mr Pik Botha, indicating that Professor Stephen Hawking was scheduled to visit South Africa and that he wanted to meet Madiba. Mr Botha had contact with Prof. Hawking through a university in South Africa he was involved with. In the year 2000 Mr Botha had left the old National Party and joined the ANC, much to the public’s amusement. Madiba of course welcomed such a move in favour of the ANC, whatever the motives may have been. At first we said no to the meeting and then we were talked into reversing that decision, as was the case on so many occasions.
We agreed with Mr Botha about a protocol for the meeting. Madiba was no longer able to deal with any surprises in meetings. He was becoming old fast and he needed clear direction and guidance. Mr Botha was accompanied by Professor Block, a gentleman from the University of Johannesburg who was famous for physics and his distribution of pieces of ‘moon rock’, a piece of which he’d given to Madiba years before.
It was amazing to experience Prof. Hawking but it took some concentration to get a ninety-year-old who knew very little about technology to communicate with the Professor, as he was talking through a computer. Mr Botha, not knowing the circumstances of Madiba’s difficulty in communicating, kept interfering, and at some point I felt my face going red as I told him: ‘Mr Botha, please stop. We cannot all try to tell Madiba how to do this. Let him figure this out himself as I have explained to him.’ It was often the problem with people. They either thought Madiba was completely unintelligent or different people in the room thought they had to tell him how to do something, because of his age, which didn’t help the situation at all. Madiba’s hearing aids would soon cut out all the voices in the room trying to tell him what to do and he would appear confused.
When you tried to tell people not to interfere they took it personally or thought you were being territorial, yet they themselves had no experience dealing with a ninety-year-old trying to conduct a professional life. The meeting with Prof. Hawking was therefore not a great conversation, and to crown it all, despite agreeing that they would not throw any surprises at Madiba during the meeting, books and messages appeared that Prof. Block and Mr Botha wanted Madiba to sign, personalize and inscribe. I was furious. It was clear that they had no respect for the protocol they had signed and agreed to prior to the meeting.
Surprises threw Madiba, and he would then look at one with helplessness in his eyes and one would be left to explain or argue with visitors. By now Madiba knew me well enough and I didn’t pretend to be anyone I am not. We instituted some protocols. We also had had enough of people approaching us with a particular request and then, once they sat in front of him, presenting a totally different agenda. People knew he found it hard to say ‘no’ to them. Soon, when the protocols became known to people, some tried to argue that it was like the behaviour of the Gestapo. What do you do? We insisted as we were left with no options. People kept on pushing their luck.
It was also in June 2008 that we learned of the sudden illness of John Reinders, the Chief of Protocol during Madiba’s Presidency. Madiba liked John a lot and was grateful for his service. John was already in a coma in a hospital in Bloemfontein by the time we visited him. An outcry followed in our inner circle about Madiba travelling to Bloemfontein to see a white man in hospital. It is not something anyone would ever dare to confront Madiba with personally but I wasn’t spared the backlash. I never managed to send people to him to lay such complaints but simply absorbed them and walked away. By now I had the skin of a baby rhino and even though it hurt to think that Madiba was to be deprived of visiting people he liked, it was now becoming like water off a duck’s back to me.
I made a point of responding to newspaper articles that dealt with race issues to remind people of what Madiba so often repeated, that if we continued to judge people by the colour of their skin, chances are that we have a long way to go building the rainbow nation we all dreamt of. And he was right. I was getting sick of being labelled according to the colour of my skin too. I’m a South African and that is all that mattered.
* * *
46664, headed by Tim Massey, was organizing a massive ninetieth-birthday concert in London’s Hyde Park in July. Again we relied on friends and relationships and started preparing them to budget for a ninetieth celebration fundraiser. Tim and I proposed a fundraising dinner to be held together with the concert.
Although it was often tiresome and tedious to arrange an event for Madiba in a foreign country I made sure that a South African element was always present, even when it came to the detail of the food served. The guest list was another problem. Everyone and his mother wanted to be there but we only had limited space.
Tables were sold in tiers and we filled up a massive marquee that was erected in Hyde Park. People always wanted to be invited to these dinners but they didn’t always want to pay. You just get to live with it. Some people will never see the common sense that the more free seats you give away, the less your chances of fundraising, and having a hundred free guests as opposed to twenty free guests increases your overheads and the fundraising becomes less successful. Some people, having done little to nothing to fundraise or support any of Madiba’s work, always wanted to be on the free-seat list. And at some point you just have to put your foot down because your professional reputation is on the line and the success or failure of the fundraiser will come back to haunt you.
Together with a friend who I knew from her time in the White House, Sara Latham, and the Nelson Mandela Children’s Fund in the UK we put together a guest list to ensure that it would be a profitable event. The event was sold out and we included some of Madiba’s friends, family and fellow struggle veterans to ensure representation. In the days leading to his arrival London was buzzing and I couldn’t believe that Madiba’s birthday was around the corner and in London there was so much excitement, even among ordinary people.
* * *
It was while preparing the logistics for the trip that we got caught in the middle of another power battle. President Mbeki was still President in South Africa and politically it was an uncertain time for many. In 2005 President Mbeki and the ANC ‘released’ Deputy President Jacob Zuma from all his duties, following a ruling by the Durban High Court which found a corrupt relationship between Schabir Shaik and Jacob Zuma. In 2006 a family friend of Zuma’s laid a rape charge against him, while Zuma argued that they had consensual sex. Zuma was cleared of the charge at the end of the trial and it was widely speculated that the Mbeki administration was waging a political war to prevent Zuma from ousting Mbeki at the four-yearly ANC national conference in 2007. Indeed, in December 2007 President Mbeki was unseated by Jacob Zuma, who was elected ANC President.
The leadership struggle manifested itself on all levels of society. You were either a Mbeki or a Zuma person. As much as the nation was united following Madiba’s Presidency there were clear divisions deeply rooted in every level of society. Once Zuma was the President of the ANC the ANC also ‘recalled’ President Mbeki as President of South Africa in a very humiliating way, arguing that he no longer served the interests of the party and its people. The Deputy President at the time, Kgalema Motlanthe, was appointed Acting President until the next national elections, when Jacob Zuma was elected the country’s President.
The Nelson Mandela Foundation was non-political. And Madiba himself had detached himself from politics. With his retirement he stopped going to ANC meetings and announced that although he was never going to part with the ANC and that he would always remain a loyal member, the running of the party was up to the younger generation. However, people willingly perceived us to be anti-Mbeki and therefore Zuma loyalists. It was in the middle of this power struggle, preparing for Madiba’s visit to London, that we informed the South African High Commission in London about our intention to visit.
Three days before our arrival for Madiba’s ninetieth-birthday celebrations in London I received a call from the South African High Commission logistics office, indicating that they would not extend the usual courtesy of allowing Madiba to move through the VIP room at Heathrow domestic arrivals and they would not pay the few hundred pounds it cost. I exploded: ‘What? Are you serious? For the past nine years you allowed him, organized, paid for the use of the VIP room because he is a former head of state of South Africa and now you expect him to what? Walk through the terminal building like a normal passenger?’ I even wrote an email sarcastically pointing out that had it not been for Nelson Mandela many of us wouldn’t have jobs. I was bordering on being ridiculous but I was beyond anger.
I declared my ‘fight’ to our CEO and Chairman as I was willing to do whatever it took to stand by my principles. I have never burdened Madiba with my problems or challenges, and in this particular case I also thought that it would hurt and upset him to learn about this matter. It cost a few hundred pounds to pay for the VIP lounge. I was in principle not going to allow the Foundation to pay for it. This sudden change of decision that a former head of state of South Africa was no longer allowed the courtesy of the support of the foreign mission to move through a VIP room had to be changed at Cabinet level as far as I was concerned. It was not a decision to be taken by an office bearer. They simply didn’t give in and told me because it was not an official visit tasked by the South African government they couldn’t pay. Yet they had paid on many other occasions when there was nothing official to the visit.
People assumed that Madiba was aligned with Jacob Zuma in the ANC’s power struggle and therefore did things that would be seen to carry the approval of President Mbeki. Mr Mbeki would never have been so petty himself to decide to withdraw a privilege like this to a former President, and it was evident that this incident was a manifestation of that divide among South Africans, of either being a Mbeki person or a Zuma person. (I eventually called Prime Minister Gordon Brown’s office and asked them to arrange for the use of the lounge from their side, which they did.)
The event was a massive success. We raised over R105 million (around £7.5 million at the current exchange rate) clean profit and to date it was the most successful fundraiser of any of the Mandela charities. The money was split between the Nelson Mandela Children’s Fund, the Mandela Rhodes Foundation and the Nelson Mandela Foundation to further their respective mandates. My favourite auction item was a cast replica of Madiba’s hand bought by Sol Kerzner for £2.9 million, making Sol the biggest donor of any of the Mandela charities at that point.
Madiba was almost intrigued by other people’s wealth and fame. Yet that was never the consideration with which he dealt with people. He just found it fascinating that someone could be as rich as a Bill Gates or Sol Kerzner. He would often boast about the wealth of his friends in South Africa – Patrice Motsepe, Tokyo Sexwale, Douw Steyn, the Ruperts and the Oppenheimers to name but a few. They were all good to him and whenever he called on them to support his charities, build a school or clinic or support a cause he was arguing for they willingly did so. Yet it was critical to him that even when he didn’t call upon them, they were always treated with the utmost respect and courtesy. He wrote in a letter to Zenani Mandela, quoted in the book Conversations With Myself, ‘But the habit of attending to small things and of appreciating small courtesies is one of the important marks of a good person.’ And so we never forgot a birthday or an anniversary and we made sure he spent time with people even when there was nothing to be asked of them, as these were part of the ‘small things’. To honour Madiba, you have to honour his relationships with people.
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Madiba insisted on staying longer than expected at the fundraising event and when he eventually went to bed I escorted him back to the hotel to enable Mrs Machel to remain at the event a little longer, so it didn’t appear that they both deserted the main table at once. Afterwards I returned to the event, which certainly was one of the highlights of my career. I didn’t want accolades or awards but I so desperately wanted Madiba to feel honoured and celebrated in a proper way while he could still enjoy it, and that night I felt we had achieved that. Driving back to the event from the hotel my heart was filled with pride and joy that he was able to witness just how much people revered him. Famous people and celebrity friends of Madiba all helped us to attract big donors and they were the people who travelled at their own cost, gave their time at no expense to honour Madiba and help us draw attention to his causes. Yes, they also benefited from the association, but one hand washes the other.
The concert the next evening was an equal success although the travelling was taking its toll on Madiba. He was tired. The usual scramble ensued for people to go up to Madiba and greet him. I watched from a distance as I could see there was going to be a fight about who got to greet him and who not. I felt incredibly sorry for him as I felt he really wanted to just enjoy the music and performances by South African, African and international artists, all performing for his birthday. I remember us watching a performance of a South African band named Mafikizolo in Tromsø, Norway, and how he enjoyed seeing them playing for him on an international stage. After all, this time it was his birthday.
Before Madiba went on stage I was approached by a tiny woman whom I didn’t immediately recognize as Emma Bunton, the former Spice Girl singer. Emma was one of the celebrities making announcements or statements during the concert. Emma told one of the stage directors that she insisted on giving Madiba her present personally, either before or when he walked on stage. It was a huge box. I couldn’t imagine that she would herself accept a huge box with a present inside from someone and carry it around all night. In addition I was also still p-ed off with the Spice Girls after I had learned that they had boasted about stealing toilet paper from Madiba’s official residence while they visited him when he was President. So I had a preconceived opinion about her already. I didn’t allow her to hand him the gift as he needed his hands to be free at all times.
As she walked on stage I could clearly see that she was upset and I told our security to keep a close eye on her as she was forcing her way to Madiba while many other, African artists were being pushed to the back. She may be a perfectly innocent lady, but in those circumstances you straighten your spine and tell off even celebrities if necessary. Part of my duty was to be proactive and to try and ensure that situations got resolved before they actually happened. I knew that Madiba would want the African artists present to take a prominent role around him while on stage and I wanted to make sure that he didn’t get upset if the contrary happened. As Madiba walked onto the stage the crowd erupted. Some people cried and the noise was deafening. I was overwhelmed with excitement and joy for him.
* * *
Pressure was mounting on Madiba from the media and the public to speak out on the gross neglect of human rights in Zimbabwe under President Mugabe. We had been withstanding pressure from around the world for Madiba to make some kind of pronouncement because of the previous incidents where he was criticized for working independently from government because they felt his actions could interfere with diplomatic process. However, at the end his simple line was: ‘Nearer to home we have seen the outbreak of violence against fellow Africans in our own country and the tragic failure of leadership in our neighbouring Zimbabwe.’ And saying less meant more and not saying certain things meant saying others. The press around the world grabbed this and it headlined the news for a couple of days.
The following day Madiba also met with some old colleagues of his, all people who were in the Rivonia Trial with him back in the 1960s. It was more than forty years since the trial that sent Madiba to life imprisonment and he had not seen some of them since that time. He could vividly remember all of them and enjoyed spending time with them. Here they were having tea in the Dorchester Hotel in London while they last saw each other as prisoners in cells awaiting trial over forty years ago. Back at home the Foundation also arranged a private celebration for him with his former political colleagues from the Rivonia Trial and fellow ex-prisoners who were still alive and lived in South Africa. It was moving to watch these people interacting and I wished that I could have talked with some of them for hours, asking so many questions. The conversations were dominated by ‘Have you seen so-and-so again?’ ‘Whatever happened to so-and-so?’
His ninetieth-birthday celebrations in London were the perfect ending to his international appearances. Twenty years earlier his seventieth birthday was celebrated at Wembley Stadium in England, viewed by more than 600 million people worldwide. The concert was named ‘Free Mandela’ and two years later he was a free man. Even though these celebrations were smaller it was a befitting way to end our travels, him being present where they celebrated his life. After that, we never went abroad again. He was becoming too old to travel.
* * *
Madiba sometimes called me from home to say that he was about to take the elevator down to the ground floor in his house. He was scared of being stuck in the elevator and I needed to call him in ten minutes to make sure that he was not stuck. At the time I thought it was funny but I now become sad when I think of it. Being there and answering those calls made me love the man even more, perhaps the fact that he depended upon me, yet it is exactly that admiration and love that caused so much animosity.
These calls also reminded me how much he had aged. Just a few years before, if he was stuck in an elevator he would be the person making everyone feel safe. Years earlier it had happened in Kampala with the Deputy President of Uganda. Of course, in addition to the people that needed to accompany him, everyone would try and fit into an elevator with Madiba. It made me very claustrophobic so I took the stairs. And as the devil may have it, he was stuck that day. For twenty minutes we stood outside on the ground floor waiting for technicians to come to their rescue. Emerging from the elevator eventually the Deputy President was in a panic and somewhat embarrassed, but Madiba had kept everyone entertained with his humour.
Mrs Machel taught me that I was to be true to myself and to always remember that the only thing that matters is my relationship with Madiba, that I cannot be held accountable for other people’s relationships with him, and when I do something I must listen to my inner voice because it will always tell me what is right and wrong. If I was concerned about something or something troubled me, there was probably a reason for my feelings and I should go with what made me feel safest. Mrs Machel and I have not had an easy relationship over the years. I have been very sensitive to the fact that a young woman spent all this time with her husband, a white woman told them when to get up and when to relax, and it couldn’t have been easy to have people around you all the time. But despite that she is the one person who shows appreciation and respect and affords me dignity. I salute her ten thousand times for keeping her cool and teaching me the things she did.
* * *
Around his ninetieth birthday we also made sure Madiba enjoyed meals with many of his old colleagues and comrades, staff and friends in smaller groups. He also received a set of stamps from the national post office printed as a limited series commemorating his birthday. The stamps featured two of my favourite pictures of Madiba.
He had lunch with his former ANC ladies, Barbara Masekela, Jessie Duarte and Frene Ginwala, then with the artists from his generation – Dorothy Masuka, Miriam Makeba, Abigail Kubeka and Thandi Klaasen – and he attended an ANC rally in his honour on 2 August, during which attendees all enjoyed celebrating with him. The government also wanted to host a concert for the people but due to only last minute advertising the concert wasn’t well attended. The June 16 Foundation was also allowed to hand over a statue to Madiba (16 June being Youth Day in South Africa, commemorating the start of the Soweto uprising in 1976). It was a beautiful statue of Hector Pieterson and I felt touched when Madiba received it. One of the board members made some remarks towards me about how grateful they were that I had taken care of Madiba, and I deeply appreciated this coming from an organization like theirs, established to remind the public about events that led to that fateful day in 1976. We had come a long way in this country. I was an Afrikaner and here they were thanking me.
It was around the same time when Madiba had the dream one night that I had resigned to take another job, and very seriously told me the next morning in the office that he dreamt that I’d deserted him. Me? Zelda la Grange? I reassured him that I would never, ever do that. I overcame my insecurities and was determined to serve him until the day one of us passed away.