Mandela

Mr. Mandela,

also known as Mabida, tata, Nelson for intimi, or vir intimi,
although I don't believe you prefer Afrikaans,
a language spoken by the former oppressor,
Apartheid and its ugly face,
I leave it at that for the language of the Boeren.

Longtime I was mad at you as a little boy,
I only knew you as a horny tomcat in Belgium, which repeatedly violently raped my cat,
and impregnated her with a kitten, which I later called Biko.

But you, despite your divine appearance in life,
are perhaps not omnipresent,
and more over probably not interested in my nevertheless beautiful cat.

You, being in your last hours, days, hopefully  weeks or even months,
are truly God's child,
not in an transcendental form, but inspired by Him.
Your decision in de Truth-commission to let the past rest,
was as unreal then as it seems now to me,
unworthy specimen that I am.
I would be in for revenge, bloodshed, and violence,
probably destroying your beautiful land,
which I once hope to visit
albeit to see die Antwoord.

I admire the logic of your decisions,
your obvious intelligence and sanity,
you really turned the other cheek.

Your loss would be a blow for South-Africa,
but you have proved enough,
I hope you will be playing cards with Biko, Gandhi and Martin Luther King.
You had a dream, and realised it,
without hesitation,
despite of our somewhat rocky start,
I am a great admirer,
and have been inspired by your tale of hardship and conviction.

Rest easily, my beautiful African friend,
in the knowledge that you will never by forgotten.

You can leave a happy house, with the utmost respect for your
family, relatives, friends, countrymen and all global friends and fans over the world.
your significance for the African emancipation can not be described, your work is done.
Let your demise by a global celebration of live, for losing a great man
is not only a time for mourning, your struggle in your life was not in vain,
time for everybody to say their goodbyes and let you finally go.