10 February 2007
The death of a Mother is the first sorrow we must bear without her. For as long as I can remember I have dreaded this day, but what a day this is, how stupendous in its proportion. How magnificent in its congregation.
We are here today to honour one woman and all woman.
On her behalf, on their behalf I thank you.
I stand before you today as representative of my sisters, my wife, my mother's grandchildren and the entire Tambo family.
I stand before you as the son of Warriors True, the son of freedom fighters, a child of destiny and a son of devout Christians.
Life on this planet is born through God and women and I thank God for giving me this extraordinary woman as my mother.
My dear Mother, at this moment, on this day, millions of sons are burying their mothers across the world. Of those millions I am a fortunate son. Whatever misfortunes and hardships made rocky the path we had to travel we were fortunate son and daughters because we had your burning love, your shining example, your fearless step, your sense of humour, your ability to endure personal pain, your beauty and sartorial elegance.
You were a jewel in Gods celestial crown and you reflected Gods glittering light as only a southern diamond can.
I am a fortunate son because of those millions who must today wrench themselves from the sheltering embrace of their greatest love. I am one of the few who dip my head for comfort on the shoulders of a nation in mourning and on the chests of so many who are family by virtue of the life my mother, and father lived.
I am fortunate indeed to have brothers and sisters like our President, Pallo Jordan, Essop Pahad, elder sisters like Sis Sankie, Sis Nkosozana, Lindi Sisulu, Lindiwe Mabusa, Barbara Masekela and many others in my life as a part of our family - You enriched her life, honoured her in so many ways in your political commitment and personal lives.
She regarded you as the pulse of the movement, its quickened step, its gallop and its magnificent charge.
A special word for The Mayor of Ekurhuleni, Duma Nkosi who was in her heart and is my brother dear. All I can say is you know how she loved you, you know what you did for her, for Dad, you are blood!
I am a fortunate son. I am one of few who can look back upon almost 50 years of life with a mother still strong, bounding with energy, with passion and love till the very end.
In a just world every son will bury their mother but as we know life is often unjust, many are the mothers of the movement who have buried their sons on distant shores, in shallow graves, in times of strife.
But there is a God in heaven and there is a natural order of things. Our mother joins our beloved father. And today Mum, your sons in their thousand, your daughters in their thousands, your sisters and brothers, your movement have gathered in prayer and song and are speeding you towards the loving embrace of your husband and the loving embrace of the Almighty.
So whilst your children and grandchildren may cry, we do not cry alone - a nation cries with us. The weather forecast predicted rain . . . so many are the tears, but they also predicted that this perfect storm will be followed by bright sunshine, that will break through the clouds of despair, and warm and embrace us with its glowing radiance.
As American Poet, Edna St Vincent Millay wrote:
"Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave.
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind.
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know, but I not approve.
And I am not resigned."
But what would life be without death? Death is the essential condition of life.
We know how much Mum will be missed by the movement, her church, communities and community workers, grieving families, shopkeepers, businessmen and women of all nationalities; the high and the low.
We do not seek death, it finds us, you may delay the hour, postpone the meeting, dread the moment and fight to keep it from your door but death will find you - it found you my Mother, God touched you, and you slept.
But you were Adelaide Tambo part of a generation of women, mothers of the Movement. You walked such a noble road, crossed so many bursting rivers, scaled so many treacherous heights, endured so much, and regretted so little.
My sisters and I believe our Mother will be met by our father and by the ANC ancestors reception committee in heaven.
She is being greeted at the gates by him, he will escort her to a function to celebrate her arrival, she will dress to the T, she will receive a standing ovation, and she will give a brilliant off the cuff impromptu speech. A report back on the state of us the living, the state of the movement, the state of the nation, she will hug and kiss the ancestors and forebears of all of us and we will receive their blessings.
For Mum the ANC was and is her family, her community, her heritage, her legacy, her sanctuary, her mortal essence and her immortality.
To my sisters Tembi and Tselane, how blessed are we?
We will be OK. You are strength itself, we were chiselled by struggle, separation, and exile and we were welded together by parental love, sibling love, ANC love and love for our father and mother - we will always love them, they will always be here with, and in us.
I am blessed that I was able to speak to you, my mother, everyday, whether in person or on the phone. I would always end our conversation with "I love you Mum" and every day was blessed with the words "I love you too, son". Even though they know it, it is important to tell our loved ones these things whilst they are alive.
In exile you would talk of our life once liberation was achieved, of retirement with Dad - you looked forward to it but it was not to be. It was the only road available, it was the unknown trail that became a well beaten path. It was to be ANC, the next generation. It meant sacrifice for you're generation and sacrifice you did! You seeded the forest of freedom!
Today, we eat daily from the tree our forebears planted, we seek shelter from the storm under the leafy canopy they nurtured. They gave us this tree, this ANC, an evergreen, an oak, a bountiful fruit tree and its roots run deep ; and no wind can fell it, because the soil in which it has grown, though bloodied with the cycle of life, is richer for the contribution of all who lived and died in such a way, that others would live and die better.
The Mother Elephant in a herd during her life teaches the young which paths they must take, in which season. Their welfare and survival depend on her instinct and knowledge handed down through generations. It is her legacy to them . . .
And when danger comes it is she who turns to face it, ready to die to protect her family, sure in the knowledge that even without her, they know what paths to follow and if they take the right paths her spirit will travel with them.
So it is with you my darling mother we have only to walk as you did. The road to freedom, the path of the Lord, a journey that makes death a wonderful fulfilment of a beautiful life.