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| Author: | Sasha Polakow-Suransky, Associate Editor |
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May 1, 2009
Sasha Polakow-Suransky writes on the atmosphere in South Africa on the eve of Jacob Zuma's inauguration as president.
Excerpt: Rumour had it that he might be coming to campus, but from the looks of the usually bustling main square there was no indication of it. August 11, 1990, was a quiet winter day in Durban and the university grounds were empty but for a few students milling about. My father led me across the square to a large lecture hall, where a small group of young men wearing bright yellow T-shirts hurried about, unloading boxes of posters from minivans.
After the requisite name-dropping, we were escorted up the stairs by a group of armed guards, perplexed by the presence of a middle-aged white man and his 11-year-old son amid a sea of black and brown faces. The auditorium was brimming with excitement as students unfurled banners and more and more yellow-clad activists streamed into the auditorium, were patted down by machine-gun-toting security officials, and took their seats. The students - Zulu and Indian - chanted liberation songs, sang the ANC's once-banned national anthem, Nkosi Sikeleli, and bellowed "Amandla... Ngawethu" (Power... to the People) in the call and response tradition of the anti-apartheid struggle.
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