The question of whether Nelson Mandela was a saint or a sellout will undoubtedly be part of debates about his legacy on Mandela Day, 18 July. He was neither. I base this on Madiba’s own admittance of his imperfections and my interactions with him.
He said he was not a saint unless one thought of a saint as a sinner who kept trying. He would joke with religious leaders: “The fact that people of your standing come to see me, gives me the impression that I am not such an irredeemable sinner.”
Madiba embodied reconciliation and challenged racism, xenophobia and other forms of discrimination.
His message was clear: South Africans could build a united future only by letting go of resentment and choosing understanding over vengeance. He believed that was the only way to move forward as a nation.
Mandela envisioned a country where people of diverse backgrounds could coexist peacefully — one that would serve as an example of hope, tolerance and nation-building for the world. He believed prejudice was learnt and people could be educated to treat one another with dignity and respect. He was a leader of great integrity and moral courage who upheld justice, equality and human dignity, even at great personal cost.
I first met Madiba in July 1994, when I started working at the Office of the President. I later worked for him in various capacities at The Presidency, The Mandela Rhodes Foundation and the Nelson Mandela Foundation. What struck me about the first meeting was Madiba’s insistence that all staff be present at meetings with him, including the gardening and cleaning staff. He declared that everyone should be treated with dignity and respect.
Mandela took an interest in the personal lives of those who mattered to him. One interaction I had with him perfectly illustrates this.
In 1997 I was asked to work at Genadendal, the presidential residence in Cape Town. I received my first call from Madiba and was nervous. He wanted to speak to Ella Govender, the chef. I put Madiba on hold and went frantically searching for Ella. When I couldn’t find her, I returned to the call and lo and behold, Madiba was holding on patiently. I apologised for making him wait and informed him that I couldn’t find Ella. He politely said: “Thank you. Tell Ella she must prepare my favourite dish, samp and beans like only she knows how to prepare it, with lots of pepper, and Tania, don’t run in your condition.” I was blown away that he was so kind and remembered that I was pregnant.
Whenever he returned home, we would line up at the entrance of the residence and Madiba would greet every staff member, sometimes hugging us and enquiring about how we and our families were doing.
He loved children and his face would light up during encounters with them.
Madiba understood the value of family because he had been deprived of family for so many years. He would always tell staff members to cherish their time with their families.
Every new encounter was like a rediscovery of the novelty and complexity of human nature. His face lit up as he reached out his hand to touch another human being.
I remember the day my daughters and my mom met Madiba in December 2006. They were amazed by his gentle nature. Madiba took an interest in the bracelet my daughter was wearing. The adoration that shone from his face was genuine. My daughter explained that she bought the bracelet from a street vendor. He chuckled and said she should continue supporting small businesses.
He made such an indelible impression on her that she wanted to know more about this great leader people revered. She followed in his footsteps by studying law and politics at the University of Pretoria.
Madiba announced his retirement in June 2007. At the conference he said that when he told one of his advisers that he wanted to retire, the adviser growled at him: “You are retired.” His witty response was that he is retiring from retirement.
It has indeed been a long walk to freedom, Madiba, and the journey is far from over. For 27 years, you endured imprisonment in pursuit of justice, carrying the hopes of a nation. You passed
the baton to future generations,
In doing so, you entrusted us with a sacred responsibility: to build a more just, compassionate and inclusive South Africa and to extend that vision across Africa and the world.
Your words were more than a farewell; they were a summons to action, calling on each of us to continue the work you began, to rise above division and indifference and to help heal the wounds of humanity. As we carry your legacy forward, we are reminded that the road to freedom is never finished — it is a journey each generation must choose to walk.
Tania Arrison is professor Jonathan Jansen’s head of office at the Faculty of Education at Stellenbosch University. She is pursuing a degree in counselling.