Lied voor de dag: Nomzamo (Winnie Mandela)

De roem en lof voor Winnie Mandela waren ondoordacht, net als het in ongenade laten vallen. Zij was geen heilige, maar dat was Nelson ook niet. Net als MLK is die tot een symbool gemaakt voor wat hij nou juist niet was.
Twee songs van Doordenkende Britse groepen uit de jaren tachtig, met dezelfde eretitel van Winnie Mandela: Nomzamo.

Nine children in one family
Nine Xhosa Wars
Nomzamo in 1960
Already victim of her country’s laws
I say ‘laws’, why dignify
The Sjamboks and the slammed cell doors?
In twenty years they gave her nineteen sentences – still
One People! One Cause!
One People! One Cause!
Nomzamo! Nomzamo…

Named ‘Trial’ but how often can
You take the stand?
Nomzamo left glued in Brandfort
Twenty years for a touch of his hand
But in touch and in the face of
The Robben Islands and the bleak Pollsmoors
I see ‘separate’ – I see ‘development’ – still
One People! One Cause!
One People! One Cause!
Nomzamo! Nomzamo…
Nomzamo – you say it’s part of your soul
Nomzamo – one day you’ll paint it
Red, black, green and gold…

Told today that they release you
That you had paid your debt
Nomzamo in her own damn country
How much more boorish can these people get?
But you refuse to get the message
Of waving whips, in bloody semaphore
Where only gunfire’s indiscriminate – as always
One People! One Cause!
One People! One Cause!
Nomzamo! Nomzamo…

Latin Quarter, 1987. Huisband van Caroline in de jaren tachtig.

Look beyond the colour
Past the covering on us to see what we are
Turn the faded pages
The mark we leave on history is what we are
Every country is part of us
Irrespective of the one where we grew up
Yes you are my sister
Though we never shared a home that’s what you are
And your eyes keep shining in the darkness
Defying all the chains that’s what you are
Home for the homeless, hope for the hopeless
Between the lines on your face I can read…
Nomzamo, Nomzamo…
They of the silk white breast seemingly proud
They are so much more less on the day of the vow
Here’s a woman who is tired and weary
Leading resistance and still laying wreathes
How can we stand by and watch this happen?
Is this the justice we preach
It seems too much to ask for an equal, peaceful living
In a land of screams, stinging tears and broken smiles
Following through all extremes
‘One who will suffer many trials’
Is this a land to inherit?
Crumbs on the table the segregated people starve
With gleeful oppression the mindless procession
Cast nonchalance out of their cars
Somewhere, sometime we pay for the crimes we incessantly do
If we believe that we are what we leave
I left a hope–what did you?
Reeling from punches which leave them winded
Reeling from laws which should be rescinded now
Nomzamo, Nomzamo…

IQ (nog net wat pretentieuzere naam dan LQ), ook 1987