It was a few years ago at his home in Qunu that I met uTata uMandela in person. It wasn't the best of times. It was his late son's funeral and my aunt was the caterer; that is how I ended up in that big white tent where uTata and many ANC stalwarts gathered to bid farewell to Makgato Mandela. In spite of the occasion, uTata had a warm smile on his face, and his hair, silver and white like cotton or wool, brightened that tent just a little more. His presence was not god-like as I had expected, but somewhat familiar, like an ancestor walking among us. This is my fond memory of uTata uMandela. May he always be an inspiration to us all. Happy Baffies Tata