The baton is ours now

‘Andrew Mlangeni is dead,” announced a member of my family without a preamble. It was 11am on July 22. I stood motionless, like a robot suddenly cut off from its power supply. It must have been a minute later when the same family member asked: “Did you hear what I said? I thought you were fond of him.” The voice was louder. I could not make out if it was irritation or bewilderment that I sensed.

I found myself saying: “You mean passed on? Thanks. I didn’t know.” I knew I was being pedantic. The reality is that I was masking the fact that I was not just saddened by the news of Bab’ Mlangeni’s passing, I