Rise... and Shine.

Putting aside the circumstances surrounding Nelson Mandela's 'special event' the other day, the boos and catcalls for his successor, the rain and speeches to empty seats, the sign-language nut... let's simply remember the man. 

He rose up from second-class citizenship. He rose up from almost thirty years of incarceration. He rose up to greatness; without losing either his humility or his smile. Not for himself as much as for his nation. Not a Black nation, but a UNITED one. Strange we should think about Nelson Mandela at a time when Gettysburg anniversaries have us thinking about Lincoln so much. Because for both of them, it was not for the success of one side or the other or any one group, but for the survival of the UNION, this was worth sacrificing everything.

He rose up, from rock-bottom. So who among us says that he or she CANNOT do the same?

Rise up, from poverty, from infirmity, from the limitations of age or self-esteem, from a dead-end job or a dead-end life. This is why the great ones among us live; as an inspiration, because we need that. And this is why the great ones among us die; as a reminder, because we need that too.

Rise, rise up. Sing his name, and in the same breath sing your own. Mungu Mandela wa milele. Mungu awabariki yetu wote. Kupanda, simama. Rise, rise up.