We all will succumb to death, a battle we can never win in this mortal life. In order to fully taste of this calamity called death we need to live and Madiba did it best. Gravity could not keep him grounded, his destiny defined by those above. His first walk when released from prison saw him raise a fist of freedom, blood and sweat. His presence felt by those without sight, his touch by the Haphephobic, his love by those that previously hated him and that because of its piercing power.
He left behind that which no man will ever improve, but maintain. A Son of Africa adopted by the world. He forgave when many would have searched their Arsenal for the best weapons. Born by the struggles of Africa, I now live life surrounded by freedom because of one soul whose sacrifice will stand witness at the feet of Christ.
Madiba no ink will better write what you did for the world, we hope and pray for a miracle that the worlds without numbers will also feel you’re magic and that your language will always be understood and spoken in every nation. I take pride in knowing a hero lived in my era, you will always be remembered Tata. You lived in this world and yet you were not of this world, rare being indeed. King of Kings, Ruler of Nations.
“To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.” ? J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
RIP Madiba, O ye son of Man!
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