Tale of two mothers: Mama Winnie Madikizela-Mandela remembered

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I was recently sitting with my mother, Motswamasimo, reflecting on our lives and the moment we find ourselves in. I asked her how she felt about her upcoming 80th birthday, on 2 April. As she shared her feelings with me, it suddenly dawned on me that 2 April also marks the fifth anniversary of the day that Winnie Madikizela-Mandela died. In that moment, I realised the significance beyond mere coincidence, for I have been privileged in a short life to have had two mothers. Still now as I write, I’m smiling fondly for the strong women who helped carve me into who I have become. 

What the world sees in my mother is a gentle woman. So much so that she has been given the nickname Nku/Konyana (sheep/lamb), which aptly speaks to her nurturing, soft nature. My mother is a retired domestic worker, and therefore, the world also knows her as a woman who still can’t read and write. But what the world doesn’t know is that my mother was one of the hardest parents I’ve come across; a disciplinarian. She was not reluctant to use the stick when she thought a line was crossed. She cared deeply about our education despite not having attained it for herself. She is a single parent of six children, and only two of them are still alive today. She has lost four of her children, three in quick succession, but carried her grief with extraordinary strength to stay the course in seeing us through as far as possible and raised us as compassionate people. I doubt she thinks that we are disciplined

Like my mother, Mom Winnie had many sides. The world tends to remember the hardened mother of the nation who always had her fist in the air; the militant who felt the brunt of the brutal apartheid state, which banished her, took her children away from her, imprisoned her, tortured her, and took away her innocence. Madiba and his generation of activists were shielded from this kind of brutality. They did not carry the internal and external wounds she had to bear most of her adult life. 

She was perceived as a radical, angry woman. I had the privilege of talking to a gentle Mom Winnie on many occasions. A woman, for instance, who dropped everything when I called her one morning about the plight of a family whose daughter had gone missing. Not only did she visit Palesa Madiba’s family, but she also followed up several times with the then minister of police, Nathi Mthethwa, on progress in trying to find the girl. She was heartbroken when I called her to report that her body had been found in a shallow grave. 

Another instance occurred at the launch of her book, 491 Days, which the Nelson Mandela Foundation  supported  in completing. The venue was in Pretoria, where about 70% of the audience was white. I anticipated that she would speak and then leave. Instead, she stayed on, fielding questions politely and then interacting with people as she did the book signing. At one point she whispered to me that such moments are important for helping to build our nation.

Comrade Winnie was also Mom Winnie. She was also Nomzamo. And Zami. And Nobandla. This last name, Nobandla, was used quite often by Madiba when referring to her. It denotes one who is with and of community. Nosizwe (nation) is a similar name which is where the term mother of the nation found its roots. 

I miss Mom Winnie. I look forward to celebrating my mother, Motswamasimo’s, 80th birthday. I give thanks for what both mothers have meant to me. I celebrate both of them as women of strength. They knew when to apply soft power and be tough when the situation necessitated. They also understood that one didn’t have to occupy a position of power to take responsibility for the dream you have for your family, your community and your country. May we continue to dream big for our nation in their honour.