AMANDLA!
Nelson Mandela, first commander of the armed struggle against the apartheid regime in South Africa, buried a gun at his secret hideout shortly before he was betrayed by the CIS and captured by the South African police.
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Nelson Mandela, first commander of the armed struggle against the apartheid regime in South Africa, buried a gun at his secret hideout shortly before he was betrayed by the CIS and captured by the South African police.
One day I suddenly thought, “My goodness, where’s Gareth?” So, I started looking. Last I heard, he was working with the British Army in Iraq, doing long stints: I tracked him down to prison cell in Kuwait. He had been used as a drug mule, nabbed and sentenced to death by hanging. His death was commuted to life and then further reduced to 15 years. When I located him, he had already been inside for four years. Thereafter I sent him a letter, every month, for 67 consecutive months. My Letters to Kuwait, were received by Gareth on his hidden device: news and comment on life in South Africa, my reflections on humanity and our world.
When poet, novelist & teacher Lionel Abrahams died in 2004, his wife, Jane Fox, wrote him a series of letters because she needed to go on talking to him. She found them in her computer 17 years later & was moved to show them to close friends. They suggested she share them with the wider public.
This book includes small 'snapshots' in words of their life together; a Jane's-eye view of Lionel as a man rather than as a writer. It shows how a human spirit can rise above physical difficulties (Lionel suffered from cerebral palsy) to become a mentor for others & a creative artist himself.
Letters to Lionel is a beguiling, unusual book. An inspiration to anyone who has lost a partner or loved one to make a healing connection back to them, & so find a source of courage to continue.
That was how it had been with her marriage.
Say ‘yes’ and the road would take you. Say ‘yes’, say ‘yes’. The road had taken him right through to the end of his life and she had completed the circle with him.
It had been rugged in places and the tyres had worn thin. But in the end it had been a complete journey. A lifetime.
A shared incarnation. She had said ‘yes’ and travelled with him to the last breath. There is a last. She had been with him. And then her incarnation continued without him.
A soul that is afraid of dying has never learned to live … This is the precept by which Dick Mawson has lived his adventurous life. He was born in England during the Second World War. With his parents he crash landed into southern Africa where he grew up.