The life of environmental and human rights activist-turned-author Kumi Naidoo descended into sudden darkness one day when he was just 15 years old.
After the unthinkable tragedy of losing his mother to suicide, Naidoo’s life took a turn that may have saved his own life. Ironically, to save himself from heartbreak, he plunged into the fight against apartheid, exposing himself to possibly greater risk.
The pain and anger he felt after losing his mother may well be the kind of recklessness and idealism it took for him to commit to a life of fighting a brutal system, for justice to triumph.
“In the weeks after Ma’s death, I struggled to make sense of her decision to end her life. I felt deep pain, anger and a deep sense of loss,” Naidoo writes in a chapter titled The Deep Anger of Loss from his memoir, Letters to my mother: the formation of a troublemaker.
Naidoo writes in intimate detail about the most difficult day in the life of a 15-year-old boy: learning about his mother’s death from a younger brother. He also writes with incredible honesty about the pain his siblings and the rest of the family endured afterwards.
There is a particular type of reckoning that comes with the loss of a loved one to suicide. Beyond the pain and loss, there is always a question as to whether anything could have been done by those left behind to save that loved one. In this book, Naidoo shares with thoughtful consideration and kindness towards all who were affected by the death of the family matriarch.
In this multi-layered memoir, the author begins his political journey by painting a picture of apartheid-era Chatsworth, Durban, a place he remembers fondly. Though beautiful in many ways, his childhood was quickly cut short by tragedy when he lost a brother long before his mother’s death.
He grew up surrounded by love and stability, with a father who worked hard to support his family and a mother who took on the role of caretaker for everyone in her life and anyone in need.
Extended family members were always close by and ready to lend a hand and give a much-needed hug, in true big Indian family style. After her mother’s death, Kumi and her siblings never lacked for love, as grandmothers and aunts instinctively embraced them.
Growing up in Chatsworth in the 1980s, with gangs ruling the streets, there was always the danger that Kumi and her brother Kovin might find themselves in the wrong crowd. The gangs did not cover up in their dealings and even less in their spoils.
In a poverty-stricken township, any teenager would have liked to have what they had, but the two brothers and their friends were spared gang life, only to organize in the community and eventually dedicate their lives to fighting. against apartheid by joining the underground. AFRICAN NATIONAL CONGRESS. A different brand of trouble.
Published by Jacana Media, the book engages in a conversation about the socio-economic issues facing Indian townships in Durban, such as Phoenix and Chatsworth.
Naidoo speaks candidly about the advantages Indian townships had over their black counterparts while making a comparison between Indian, Colored and White neighborhoods.
“Compared to the people in the African townships, the Indian working class, while undoubtedly oppressed and discriminated against, enjoyed advantages in terms of education, health care and other public services.
“By 1980, Chatsworth had just a swimming pool, two public libraries and a few mediocre sports fields serving a population of over 200,000, but this was much better than what could be found in neighboring African townships. Many families like mine aspired to social and financial mobility, but wealth disparities made this very difficult to achieve,” writes Naidoo. This was another motivation for joining the ANC in its fight against the unjust apartheid government.
With a heightened awareness of events outside his own community and in the context of the 1976 Soweto uprising, in which students took to the streets to protest the introduction of Afrikaans as a medium of instruction, Naidoo began his own research work. activism.
As a student at Chatsworth Secondary School, he mobilized his classmates and peers from neighboring schools to protest the apartheid government “for providing inferior education in African, Colored and Indian schools,” he writes. This boycott would trigger years of raids, arrests, hideouts, and name changes, as Kumi Naidoo was now an enemy of apartheid in South Africa.
The gripping narrative keeps the reader constantly rooting for the protagonist due to the adversity that seems to haunt him. Within the main story, he will read about the beautiful relationship between Naidoo and his brother Kovin, who was not only his mother’s son, but a comrade to whom he entrusted his life.
You will also read about a struggle between father and son as they go through life with the burden of grief and loss, often manifesting as anger. Having lost one a wife and the other a mother, both had to deal with complex emotions without abdicating their roles within the family unit.
The story is told in such a beautiful conversational style that it feels like you’re sitting across from the author, sharing a cup of tea as he reveals the details of his life. You will be transported to political rallies where you will feel the need to raise your fist in solidarity. At the same time, you will attend school concerts and feel the most tender feelings while imagining little children singing perfectly out of tune.
You will meet a young judge Edwin Cameron who was already doing, in the 1980s, what eventually became a big part of his life. You will meet the renowned Durban politician Amichand Rajbansi being dangerously eccentric while he flirts with the enemy. You’ll cry at goodbyes, celebrate when college students outwit security police, and laugh with apprehension at the lengths to which Naidoo goes to disguise himself.
Reflecting on the current state of affairs in South Africa, Naidoo says he has no regrets dedicating his life to fighting. What he does regret, however, is that the government has failed to deliver on the important promises he made at the dawn of democracy.
“I am deeply sorry for the missed opportunities to lift the majority of our people out of poverty.
“I regret that the educational system has not advanced. I am also sorry that, by now, we have not lifted our rural people out of extreme poverty.”
When I ask him what he thinks the future holds for South Africa, he responds enthusiastically, referring to Imtiaz Sooliman, founder of the Gift of the Givers humanitarian organization, saying that South Africans should forget about the government and focus on mobilizing to see the change they want. .
“The future is made up of people with agency. People are going to have to say, ‘Enough is enough!’”
In the book’s final postscript and letter, Naidoo writes to her mother on June 18, 2022, just four months after the death of her son-in-law, rapper, producer, and fashion icon Rikhado “Riky Rick” Makhado.
In the letter, Naidoo tenderly tells her mother about her last conversation with her son and the moment she received that harrowing phone call about his death.
The theme of suicide and mental health is a constant in the book and Riky Rick’s story is the latest harrowing reminder that South Africa is facing some of the highest suicide rates of our time, with suicide being the leading cause of death. death among Africans aged 15-29, according to the South African Depression and Anxiety Group.
Aside from a couple of misspelled African names, the book kept me captivated and didn’t lose my attention for a moment.
Stories about youth activists will always find a place in South African discourse and Kumi Naidoo makes an excellent case for youth activism. Letters to my mother:
youThe creation of a troublemaker by Kumi Naidoo is published by Jacana and costs R300.
