would rather walk. And so, this transformational leader and history-maker
who has left a legacy that will inspire many generations took halting steps
toward his long-awaited liberation.”
The tour guide took a long, weary breath. Then he carried on.
“Mr. Mandela was given a country on the cusp of a civil war. Yet,
somehow, he managed to become a unifier instead of a destroyer. I still
remember the words from the famous speech he gave during one of his trials:
During my lifetime I have dedicated myself to this struggle of the African people. I have fought
against white domination, and I have fought against black domination. I have cherished the ideal
of a democratic and free society in which all persons will live together in harmony and with equal
opportunities. It is an ideal for which I hope to live for and to see realized. But . . . if it needs be, it
is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.
Mr. Riley cleared his throat. He kept looking at the cement floor of the
tiny cell.
“Mr. Mandela was a true hero,” confirmed the guide. “After his release he
invited the prosecutor who demanded the death penalty for him to dinner. Can
you believe that? And he asked one of the jailers who watched over him here
on Robben Island to attend his inauguration as the president of South Africa.”
“Really?” the entrepreneur asked quietly.
“Yes, that’s a fact,” responded the tour guide. “He was a real leader, a man
of genuine forgiveness.”
The Spellbinder raised a finger to signal he wished to share another point:
“Nelson Mandela wrote, ‘As I walked out the door toward the gate that would
lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind,
I’d still be in prison.’”
“He also said that ‘to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to
live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others,’” the guide
added. “And that ‘no one is born hating another person because of the color of
his skin or his background or his religion.
People must learn to hate, and if
they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love,
for love comes more
naturally to the human heart than its opposite.’”
“I read he’d often get up around 5
AM
and run on the spot for forty-five
minutes, then perform two hundred sit-ups and then do one hundred fingertip
push-ups. That’s the reason I’m always doing my push-ups,” the billionaire
contributed, somewhat awkwardly.
“Hmm,” said the
tour guide before continuing, “Mr. Mandela came into
this cell as a hot-headed, angry, hostile and militant young man. It was who he
grew into here in this prison that made him the icon we all now revere. As
Archbishop Desmond Tutu taught us, ‘suffering can either embitter us or
ennoble us.’
Thankfully, Madiba—which was his clan name—chose the
latter.”
“All the best men and women of the world have one thing in common,”
said The Spellbinder: “extreme suffering. And each of them evolved into their
greatness because they chose to leverage their circumstances to heal, purify
and uplift themselves.”
The Spellbinder then pulled out a learning model from his jacket, the final
one that the two students would see. It was called
Do'stlaringiz bilan baham: