Madonci was born in Middledrift, Eastern Cape, in 1961 and after completing high school studied nursing in Keiskammahoek and worked in SS Gida Hospital.

She went on to work in a place of safety for children in Motherwell before moving to Port Elizabeth Provincial Hospital and then Livingstone Hospital.

“She knew what she wanted. She always wanted to be a nurse. When she was admitted at the training centre she was very excited,” said Madonci's younger brother, Masixole Zinto.

He said Madonci was quiet and focused as a child but started to find her voice after she got married to Mthuthuzeli Madonci.

The family came from a poor background and Zinto, a DA councillor in Nelson Mandela Bay, credits his sister with helping develop his career. She took him in in Port Elizabeth after he moved there to pursue further opportunities.

“We knew on Saturday it's a fish day,” said Zinto.

His sister was religious and didn't smoke or drink but she loved a good quality meal. Fish was her favourite. She would send Zinto out on Saturdays to buy fish. One day, he couldn't find any to buy.

“It's a Saturday, what do you think we're going to eat? Go and find one,” she told him as he unhappily went searching again, wondering if he'd have to go to the beach and catch a fish himself.

Zinto believes his sister caught Covid-19 at the hospital where she worked. As her health deteriorated, she went for multiple tests, which came back negative, before she finally tested positive on 31 May 2020.

“Then that was it, the trauma of waiting: 'She's getting better, no, she has relapsed.' It was that kind of thing,” said Zinto.

He laughed when his sister said she believed a Covid-19 vaccine would be found by August 2020, wondering why she had chosen the arbitrary month. It was because August was her birthday month.

She had three children, Siyasanga, Zimasa and Luzuko. “She lived for them,” said Zinto.

Mandisa Zinto, Masixole and Madonci’s sister, died on 8 July 2020 of complications related to diabetes.

“You just had sisters, now all of a sudden you don't have any. You're all alone in the world,” said Zinto.

By Greg Nicolson

Born in Bloemfontein in 1934, he worked various jobs after finishing Standard 6, including at OK Bazaars, but his calling was as a pastor. He married his wife Paulina in 1958 and went to Bible school where he obtained a diploma.

He spent the next 50 years as a pastor at churches in Hammanskraal, Kimberley, Welkom, Mohlakeng and Bloemfontein.

“He was good at adapting to different areas,” said his son Gopolang Hlangeni.

Paulina and John had eight children, five boys and three girls, and as the family moved to follow Hlangeni's work, the children would have to adapt to new environments and new languages.

“It affected us at some stage,” said Gopolang, but Hlangeni remained devoted to his work.

There was no Baptist Church in Hammanskraal when Hlangeni moved to the area in 1964, so he went door-to-door to ask residents to join. Eventually, they built a church and he preached there until 1967.

Between 1985 and 1995, Hlangeni worked in the mines during the week where he preached to workers. He started a church in Mohlakeng where he would work on the weekends. In 1995, he moved back to Bloemfontein and worked at the Rocklands Baptist Church until he retired in 2011.

He made an effort to preach in schools in each area the family visited.

“Wherever he was going, he started youth services,” said Gopolang.

“He loved his children and his family. He was a humorous person.”

During Hlangeni's retirement, Mohau Rammile from the Global Reconciliation Church in Bloemfontein asked him to minister to the church's elderly.

Hlangeni is thought to have contracted Covid-19 in March from Rammile, who attended a conference at Divine Restoration Ministries, which was traced back to a number of infections in Free State.

Gopolang believes the government should focus on testing rather than screening people for Covid-19. Hlangeni was asymptomatic when he was first screened but days later he was short of breath and taken to Bloemfontein's Pelonomi Hospital.

He passed away on the morning of 30 March on his third day in hospital. Four of Hlangeni's family members, including his 81-year-old wife Paulina, tested positive for Covid-19 and went into isolation. Hlangeni was buried on 3 April.

His wife, who was in isolation until she recovered and was released on 22 April, couldn't attend the funeral.

“Most of her life they were together,” said Gopolang, describing his mother's pain.

Hlangeni is survived by his wife, three daughters and two sons.

By Greg Nicolson

The family had a German car known for its faulty doors. Driving with her mother one day, Ebersöhn tumbled out of the car as the door opened. She was only bruised but her mother was traumatised.

When her father bought her a toy farm set and the other children wanted to play, she told them, “You'll have to fall from the car first.”

Ebersöhn died on 11 July 2020 at the Pretoria Heart Hospital after testing positive for Covid-19 days earlier.

She became a nursery school teacher after studying at the Pretoria Teachers’ College in 1976 and worked at the Pretoria School for Cerebral Palsied Learners for 10 years before she passed away.

“She very often said that that was her calling, to help other people, to give meaning to other people's lives,” said Spies.

He proudly recalled how she recently conducted an orchestra of children on stage at the Pretoria School for Cerebral Palsied Learners, many of them in wheelchairs.

In a statement, the school said, “She was known for her gentle manner, deep humanity and her big servant heart. She loved and served her learners and colleagues without a thought for herself.

“In the last months of her life, Mrs Ebersöhn secured a large monetary donation for the Inter Special Department and undertook the enormous task of planning and overseeing some major renovations at the school.”

Ebersöhn and her husband Adriaan had two sons, Hannes and Willem. “She was a loving and caring mother. She's got this gentle, loving personality and everyone loved her,” said Spies.

“It is a shock for the family and obviously there's a big hole in all of our hearts.”

She had two grandchildren. The youngest was born in April 2020 and named after her grandmother, Mariechen.

By Greg Nicolson

The acting station commander and detective chief was passionate about his job and worked long hours, sometimes to the frustration of his wife Colette, after he was promoted in 2019 to lead the police in the town where he was born.

He worked for the police for over 29 years in various roles, including as a detective, fingerprint expert, in the community service centre and finally as acting station commander.

“I think he gave his life for the community,” said Colette.

The 53-year-old died at Wilhelm Stahl Hospital in Middleburg while waiting for an ambulance to take him for treatment in Bloemfontein. Colette believes he contracted Covid-19 while interacting with other officers at a roadblock.

Colette laughed when recalling meeting her husband at a Valentine's Day ball in 1992. Leslie was her first boyfriend and the couple went on to have two children, Curtley, 24, and Andrulishé, 13.

She described him as a very serious man who was devoted to his work and was strict with his children. A Stormers fan, Leslie liked to watch the rugby with his son Curtley, a Blue Bulls supporter, on the weekend and analyse the matches.

He set up a home gym in his garage and would work out each day after returning from work. “Police officials must be fit. I really miss my husband,” said Colette.

On 1 May, Leslie complained his body was sore, but his condition improved after taking medication from the chemist. Then his condition deteriorated. He had a fever, headache and was coughing.

On 5 May, a doctor examined him and recommended he go to the hospital in Bloemfontein, hours away, but Leslie was stubborn. He took antibiotics and his condition briefly improved.

He tested positive for Covid-19 on 8 May and two days later, Leslie, a diabetic, had severe symptoms. Colette nursed him and fed him at home, sitting with him on a couch she had moved to their bedroom while his lips turned blue.

Family members finally convinced him to go to the local hospital on 11 May. By then Leslie could hardly walk. He waited there for hours for an ambulance to take him to Bloemfontein but passed away minutes before it arrived after 21:00.

Leslie was the first confirmed case of Covid-19 in Middleburg and his funeral only lasted 10 minutes by the graveside. The family was not allowed to touch his coffin, which was wrapped in plastic. His colleagues were not allowed to attend.

“Just like that. And my husband doesn’t deserve that, really,” said Colette.

In June, thieves broke into the Leslie family's garage and stole the radio out of Curtley's car.

“I was feeling so angry because I knew this thing would never happen when he was there,” said Colette, who also tested positive for Covid-19 and has since recovered.

By Greg Nicolson

Born in Woodstock, Cape Town, in 1941, Neville Herold knew all the gangsters in the area but was more interested in playing soccer for the Red Circles club than joining a gang.

He moved to Kensington as a young man and met Eva Willenberg through mutual friends at a langarm dance.

“They got married on 21 December 1974 and then moved to Strandfontein where they started their little family,” said Valene.

Herold worked at Markham in Adderley Street, an employee of The Foschini Group for 46 years before taking early retirement to spend more time with his family.

“He was a brilliant shoe salesperson. What I remember about my dad was he was always neatly dressed in a suit and tie with formal shoes to work, and even to church,” said Valene.

Herold was strict, a man of the church who was not shy to give his kids a hiding, but was also generous.

He would invite neighbours over to watch the rugby on a Saturday and made sure to provide snacks. When his children mentioned they wanted new sneakers, he would surprise them with a pair hours later.

“My dad was the most forgiving man I ever knew. People would do ugly things to him and speak badly of him, but he never had anything bad to say back. He would forgive and not look back. My dad was always a helping hand away. If anyone needed anything, he would be the man to call,” said Valene.

Herold was an active member of his church and an executive member of the early childhood development centre for Dolphin Educare for over 30 years, opening and closing the facility and maintaining the premises.

Herold's wife, Eva, was admitted to Rondebosch Medical Centre in June with a severe bladder infection. She tested positive for Covid-19. Herold, Valene and her brother also tested positive.

Herold had a persistent cough and was also admitted to the hospital. Eva was placed on a ventilator when her oxygen levels dropped, but her heart was already too weak, said Valene, and she passed away on 21 June due to cardiac arrest.

“My dad, well, I honestly think my dad died of a broken heart, because once he got the news of mom's passing, my dad's vitals started to drop. The doctor said with the shock of my mom’s death, my dad couldn't bear living without her,” said Valene.

Herold passed away on 25 June at the age of 79.

“Both my parents were fighters and extremely strong-willed people,” said Valene, expressing gratitude to the staff at Rondebosch Medical Centre for their efforts.

By Greg Nicolson

“She was dirt cheap with her pricing right until the beginning of this year. She was called the cake lady from Strandfontein and she definitely made a name for herself and was very proud,” said her daughter, Valene Herold Weber.

Born Eva Willenberg in 1948, she and her seven siblings were closely involved in the church, selling baked goods as a family to raise money for their church.

She married Neville Herold in 1974 and resigned from her job when she was pregnant with her first child, Valene.

“Her home was open to everybody. My mom, her sister Joanne, friends Sybil and Des would sit in the kitchen for hours laughing and talking nonsense. They were inseparable. They did everything together and these women became part of the baking and trimming work,” said Valene.

“Eva, where do I start?” she asked.

“My mommy would cook a big pot of food and her words were, 'You never know who might come. You must always have an extra plate of food.'”

“My mommy was the life of the party with her jokes she would share and the things she would do. She loved to laugh and make people laugh. She would dress up funny just to see people laugh.”

Valene said her mother was generous and would bake extra cakes and biscuits for Neville to deliver to family members.

“My parents’ home was open to any family member who never had a place to stay for years and never complained. My mommy taught me to always share with the less fortunate and always have an open door for anyone in need,” said Valene.

Herold was admitted to the Rondebosch Medical Centre in June with a severe bladder infection. She didn't display symptoms of Covid-19 but tested positive for the virus. Her husband Neville and her son and daughter also tested positive.

Her oxygen levels dropped and she was placed on a ventilator before passing away due to a cardiac arrest on 21 June at the age of 72. Her husband Neville passed away from Covid-19 four days later.

“My parents are now safe in the arms of Jesus. #CovidIsReal,” said Valene.

By Greg Nicolson

“She was very passionate about her work. We would hear for hours and hours about her work. She was loved by her patients, colleagues and parents,” said daughter Rushana Pieterse of her mother, who worked as a paediatric nurse.

Julies was born in Elsies River in 1953 and raised by her mother's cousin. She told her children how the hardest subject she faced at Elswood Secondary School, which she attended until Standard 8, was English, so much so, that her mother used to pray for her each time she had an exam.

“She liked dancing and attended clubs in her day, where she actually met our father who she was married to for 40 years before his passing four years ago,” said Pieterse.

Julies started her nursing career at Conradie Hospital before moving to Karl Bremer, Tygerberg, Jan S Marais and finally Melomed Hospital in Bellville.

“Her work became part of our household. That's how passionate she was. We knew her colleagues, her patients and the parents because she was like a mother to everybody,” said Pieterse.

“We practically begged her to retire and come home, but in the end she worked until her death.”

Pieterse described her mother as strict but generous: “A God-fearing woman with strong moral convictions.”

“She was a woman of strength, a mother to everybody and a woman of great wisdom. No amount of words can actually describe our amazing mother. She was old school so she believed in the old way of doing things.”

“She crept into so many hearts because of her loving and caring nature. A mother to so many and an ear to listen, always going the extra mile for people in general, giving advice, praying for people and always being considerate of the next person.”

Tributes poured in on Facebook after the announcement of the death of Julies, who was known as Aunty Moemfie.

“My mother is a legend in her own right,” said Pieterse.

By Greg Nicolson

Theron was born in Johannesburg in 1934. She spent most of her life working as a high school English teacher in Johannesburg.

She got married in the late 1950s. “But she was a modern woman... After she got married she didn’t stay at home to look after the kids. She worked and earned her own salary,” said Retief.

Theron was married for almost 60 years and her husband died four years ago.

“She was quite a dynamic person with a broad spectrum of interests. She enjoyed gardening, reading. She read anything from Ancient Greek mythology to biographies,” Retief said.

Theron was also an excellent cook “who always had to feed you”.

“That was my pet peeve about her, but also what I loved about her. If you're at her house, she always had to cook and you had to eat her food,” said Retief.

She was also a woman who deeply cared about her community and never shied away from speaking her mind.

Theron “had issues with authority figures at times; she always felt that if you're in a position of authority, you need to be fair and you need to do your job really well. She was very quick to point out if you're not deserving of that position,” said Retief.

She was also often upset when people who couldn’t fend for themselves were being unfairly treated.

“She was very vocal, so you’d know when something bothered her,” said Retief.

In her later years, Theron was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and dementia. “She lived in a home and that’s where she contracted the virus.”

“What she’ll be remembered for is her intelligence and the fact that she was a good, committed mother,” said Retief.

On 19 July, at the age of 86, Theron died from Covid-19.

“We posted the news of her death on the school's Facebook's page and it exploded with learners who remembered her.

“They told us she meant a lot to them and that she taught them a lot, not just about the [English] language but also about life. It was great to hear that,” she said.

Theron is survived by two children and three grandchildren.

By Karabo Mafolo

“He taught us perseverance [and that] when the odds are stacked against you, there’s always a way to push through and come out to the other side... and my sister and I definitely learnt that from him and his stories and what he achieved,” said his daughter Leigh Pieterson.

Pieterson was born in Johannesburg in 1957 and would later spend most of his life in Cape Town.

When he was younger, he lost his hearing. “He wasn’t vaccinated and he contracted measles and mumps when he was seven; eventually his eardrums burst,” said Leigh.

“Back then hearing-aid technology was not as advanced. So, he used to carry around this big box with headphones to school and the teachers would speak into a microphone for him to hear, which must’ve been hard for him to learn like that.”

But Pieterson’s loss of hearing didn’t stop him from finishing his studies in engineering. He would later start and sell two engineering firms.

Besides his hard-working nature, he was also an adventurous person who loved being outdoors.

He loved hiking, camping, scuba diving and playing golf.

He naturally had “great diving stories”, said Leigh.

A story he often shared about the value of patience was when “when he and a friend went spearfishing and there were sharks that were circling them for hours and he and his friend were in the water for hours with their spearfishing equipment trying to wait out these sharks, he always spoke of patience in that sense,” said Leigh.

And even when he was raising his two daughters, Pieterson also showed “another level of patience”.

“There were always moments when my sister and I would get on each other’s nerves and I think he was always great at explaining instead of disciplining. He was great at teaching us to apologise and moving forward with each other,” said Leigh.

Seven years ago, Pieterson was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s. “He was quite far with his condition and was not the same person he was seven or eight years ago.”

Pieterson is survived by his wife and his two daughters.

By Karabo Mafolo

“He loved his kids and he loved his job; lecturing was his life,” said his wife, Yolandi van der Berg.

Van der Berg was a quiet man who enjoyed reading. He spent a lot of time at home in his study.

“He wasn’t the kind of person who was out every night. He was more of an introvert, but you could take him anywhere and he’d be himself and he’d mingle,” said Yolandi.

He enjoyed listening to 1980s music and his favourite song was Hotel California.

Besides being a great father, he loved to braai, something at which he was very accomplished.

The most treasured memory Yolandi has of her husband is when he received the call that informed him that he had been awarded his PhD.

“He was so proud. He’d been working so hard. After he got that call, he cried,” said Yolandi.

Another special moment was when their two sons were born, in 2014 and 2015. “He was super proud when they were born,” said Yolandi.

Van der Berg was also someone you could trust. “You could tell him your deepest secrets and he wouldn’t tell anyone. He listened and often gave good advice,” said Yolandi.

He was also the go-to person when anyone had a question.

“You could ask him anything and he’d know the answer, he was our Google,” said Yolandi while laughing.

Van der Berg will be remembered for how knowledgeable he was, his calm demeanour and the love he had for his family.

On 13 July 2020, almost a month before his 43rd birthday on 19 August, he died from Covid-19. He is survived by his wife and two sons.

By Karabo Mafolo

“Laurence made a deep impression during his lifetime on people he came in contact with,” said Dworkin’s wife, Louise Rabe.

Born in Johannesburg to Jock and Hannah Dworkin, he attended Greenside primary and high schools. He studied journalism at Rhodes University but couldn’t graduate after being banned from the university for his involvement in the Struggle.

That’s when he started his career in the film industry.

“All those who ever met or worked with Laurence Dworkin will remember him as a man with immense generosity and humility,” said friend and colleague Brian Tilley.

In a moving tribute published in Daily Maverick, Tilley mapped their riveting career, filming uprisings in townships across the Vaal Triangle, in Mamelodi, Leandra, KwaNobuhle and Eastern Cape in the 1980s, documenting the trade union movement and the eventual release of Nelson Mandela and other Struggle leaders from detention.

“We filmed wherever there was a story to tell and Laurence, patient as ever, steady as a ship in the night, edited the clips to be couriered to London where we had set up Afravision as a distribution company,” wrote Tilley.

Dworkin was a founder member of the VNS/Afravision video collective which documented the uprisings in South Africa and the transition into democracy.

“[He was] deeply motivated by a need to help improve the lives of all, to eradicate injustice and facilitate equality,” said Rabe.

Dworkin was arrested for his affiliation with the ANC and spent three months in solitary confinement.

He died at the Mediclinic Cape Town after battling Covid-19 for two weeks.

Rabe described his death as “sudden” and “traumatic”. Her husband was active and appeared to be healthy before the virus took hold. He loved hiking on the slopes of Table Mountain with their dogs.

“The way he passed in isolation has exacerbated the grief immensely,” she shared.

The pair met in 1995 and married in 2012. They honoured Dworkin’s life with a small Buddhist ceremony in an old chapel with friends and family. “We danced the night away, filled with joy!” said Rabe.

He was a music lover, in particular, jazz and the blues, which Rabe said was “an essential part of Laurence”.

Dworkin had a tea farm in Nieuwoudtville, which was declared the first private nature reserve in Northern Cape.

“He was a leader in facilitating the export of organic rooibos tea. In the process he was instrumental in supporting and improving the livelihoods and dignity of the local tea farmers,” said Rabe.

Dworkin is survived by his wife, Louise Rabe, his stepchildren, Claus Rabe and Emmylou Bailey, his grandchildren, Lila, Sebastian and Adriana, and his three sisters, Denice Fanaroff, Vivian Sacks and Ashne Hesselberg.

By Sandisiwe Shoba

“I recall fondly her sobering advice dispensed over long slow lunches, her generosity and compassion belied by her aloof and almost bored expression. I have never met anyone quite like Moon,” wrote actress Bonnie Mbuli in a tribute.

“The South African television and film industry has been dealt a hard blow; may the curtain never fall on the stage you have set for us,” she continued.

Lee died on 18 July 2020 in Johannesburg from Covid-19 related complications. She was 76 years old.

She was born in Johannesburg in 1944 to actress Shirley Hepburn. She moved to England with her mother at the age of seven, where she spent most of her childhood.

At the age of 17 she began working as a clerk at a London knitwear company and studied acting in her free time. She was married to salesman Leon Lee for five years and they divorced in 1974. They had two children, Cindy and David.

Daily Maverick Thank God It’s Food editor Tony Jackman said she “lived life large with all the trimmings”.

Lee founded her talent agency, Moonyeenn Lee and Associates (MLA) in 1974, after being trained as an agent by James Fraser of Fraser and Dunlop.

During her extensive career, she cast films such as The Bang Bang Club, Disgrace, Tsotsi, Fanie Fourie’s Lobola, Mandela: Long Walk To Freedom, Hotel Rwanda, Blood Diamond, Black Panther and Life, Above All.

In 2003 she founded Khulisa Productions to make South African films.

“Moonyeenn’s passion for South African stories and local talent was well known. Over the years, she would travel around the world introducing producers and directors to South African actors,” MLA wrote.

“Being an actor is incredibly hard work and I have enormous respect for real actors, not pretend actors. You have to stay well and you have to stay focused and you have to stay fit. It’s a hard life,” said Lee in a 2019 interview with Kevin Kriedemann

Lee helped shape the lives of many actors, directors and writers through her fierce honesty and passion, wrote MLA.

Mbuli said Lee’s “brutal honesty” and “consistency” helped shape her career.

“Under her guidance and unfiltered critique, my talent and confidence grew in leaps and bounds. It was in her casting room that I learnt the difference between quantity and quality as an actress, that when the ball landed in your court, you showed up no matter what.”

Lee is survived by her daughter, Cindy Lee, her son, David Lee, and her pets, Hitchcock, Eva and Spice.

By Sandisiwe Shoba

Smale died at Wentworth Hospital in Durban on 28 June 2020, a day after he was diagnosed with Covid-19 and a day before his 52nd birthday.

He was born in Wentworth in 1968 and raised by his mother and grandmother, both of whom he loved dearly as they worked with the little they had to make sure he was fed, clothed and educated.

Smale and his cousins grew up in the same house, meaning there was lots of love but also fights, such as over who got the last slice of polony.

“The smallest progress we made in our lives was a moment to capture and keep forever in his heart. If he was ever in a position to choose anything over his children, it was a no-brainer that he would choose his children,” said his oldest daughter, Shana-Lee Vanderbyl.

“He fought to protect us from the harm of this world.”

When Smale's daughter Saylor fell off her bike, injuring the side of her body and face, he gave the bike away as soon as they returned from the doctor, banishing anything that might harm his children.

His daughter Tamika was accident prone and went to hospital twice as a child for stitches. Smale begged the doctor not to hurt her and each time Tamika jumped or grimaced in pain, he did the same.

“My dad gave his all to see his children happy. If we were happy, he was happy. He lived with the motto 'I will give my children everything I never had',” said Shana-Lee.

“He loved music; he called it soul food. He loved travelling near and abroad, for work and leisure.”

Smale worked as a security guard in Durban before he moved to Johannesburg in 1992. There, his cousin introduced him to repairing vehicles damaged by hail. He travelled widely for the work and Shana-Lee believes he contracted Covid-19 in Kokstad.

Even in his last days, Smale was trying to protect his daughters by warning them about the dangers of Covid-19 and urging them to be cautious.

Smale is survived by his ex-wife Nicky, his three daughters, his brother, four sisters, mother and stepmother.

By Greg Nicolson

His daughter Taleyea was at a braai with him one day and there was a man who was keeping to himself, saying the other guests were “not on his level”.

“My dad talked to him when nobody wanted to talk to that man and got him off his high horse. They laughed and everyone had a great night. That man even started making jokes,” said Taleyea.

Fransman died of Covid-19 related causes in Western Cape on 28 June 2020 after falling ill on 19 June.

“My dad was a very loving father. Everything he did was for my sister and me. He used to say that we’re the only people that’s motivating him to do better and get out of bed every day,” said Taleyea.

“My father was like a best friend. I shared almost everything with him and I was never afraid to tell him stuff. He was very easy to talk to and always told my sister and meI to stand up for ourselves and never back down.

“He liked to make jokes and socialise with different people. My dad always tried to see the best in a person and he was very understanding.”

He loved to cook, steak in particular, and enjoyed action movies, especially the golden oldies.

Crystal Human from the Public Servants Association (PSA) worked with Fransman since 2003. She described him as an “amazing person” who was passionate about workers' rights and was always willing to learn.

Fransman worked at the Voorberg Correctional Centre and in 2014 was elected as a full-time office bearer for the PSA. He never saw himself above those who worked at the prison, but also had good relations with management and could request immediate access to the facility, which is “unheard of”, said Human.

“He was a very vibrant person. People always wanted to be around him,” she said.

Fransman worked hard but also enjoyed a good time. At a PSA team event, he participated in a competition where the loser had to wear a pink Blue Bulls jersey for the rest of the day. He came second, donned the jersey and took flak from colleagues in his stride.

He was also caring and protective. Human said he was like a big brother; you always felt safe around him.

“He lived life to the full and was not shy about it,” she said, “You could only admire it.”

Fransman is survived by his children Taleyea and Nyoka, his mother Johanna and siblings Billy, Johnny, Alfred, Eddy and Angeline.

By Greg Nicolson

She was Zulu King Goodwill Zwelithini’s sister and wife to the late AmaRharhabe King Maxhoba Sandile. She passed away on 8 July 2020 at Cecilia Makiwane Hospital in Mdantsane, Eastern Cape, from Covid-19 related complications. She was 56 years old.

“She did not hesitate to speak out against regressive practices that held women and girls back from realising their full potential. She abhorred gender-based violence, discrimination against women, the prevention of women owning land or property, and women falling victim to cultural practices that relegated them to a lower status than men,” said Mantashe.

Described as a courageous and generous woman, she stepped into leadership in 2011, while still mourning the death of her husband. Her son, Jonguxolo Sandile, is the newly crowned AmaRharhabe king.

One of 15 children, Sandile was born “Nomusa Zulu” to then Zulu King Cyprian Bhekuzulu kaSolomon in Nongoma, KwaZulu-Natal. She did her primary schooling in Claremont, Durban, and for high school she attended Bizana Secondary School and later Star of the Sea in Cape Town.

She went on to study teaching at Gqikazi College of Education in Nongoma. She married then prince Maxhob'ayakhawuleza Sandile in 1988. They had two children, Prince Jonguxolo Sandile and Princess NomaRharhabe Sandile.

Her brother, King Zwelithini, was “heartbroken” by her passing. He tried to “save” his sister, but couldn’t. A family spokesperson had said her marriage to Maxhoba Sandile had brought unity between the Xhosa and Zulu nations.

“She was a leader but was known for her humility, her great compassion and her community activism. She understood the greatest duty of leadership is to be ever-present among the people and to be alive to their concerns and needs,” said Mantashe.

She is survived by her son and daughter, Prince Jonguxolo Sandile and Princess NomaRharhabe Sandile.

By Sandisiwe Shoba

“My dad is a phenomenal man,” said his daughter, Melissa Klink.

Born outside Cape Town in Sir Lowry's Pass in 1957, Klink worked as a primary school teacher at multiple schools, spending a number of years at Alpine Primary School and finishing his career at Montevideo Primary School.

Klink's passion for teaching extended beyond the school and into his life at home and at church, where he was a bishop at the Christian Assembly Church, taking pride in supporting its youth programmes. He helped raise and acted as a father figure to Melissa's children.

“Being such a loving man, he was especially in love with my mom, right up until the very end,” said Melissa, describing the love between him and his wife Jeanette as unique.

Klink started working at Cape Town's Montevideo Primary School in 2015.

“Being older, he assumed the role of the wise old man. Being the oldest male at our school, he also became the grandfather to many of our learners,” said acting principal Craig Daniels. He had asked Klink, who had previously worked as a principal, to be his mentor.

“Mr Klink had nothing to prove, he just enjoyed being at school, always making an effort to keep the staff upbeat. During intervals he would sit with the group of educators in the staff room and tell them about his latest diet and how it was going,” said Daniels.

Montevideo Primary School aims to instil its values into each aspect of its work, believing values develop character.

“Mr Klink embodied this, a man of sound character. In our school community, this is so important, to help our fathers to be more present, to help our males to become better role models. And it starts at school and grows outwards. We were really fortunate to have someone like him around,” said Daniels.

He was human and could lose his temper with learners, said Daniels, but he wouldn't dwell on learners' transgressions.

“This is such a simple example for everyone to follow and it is presented in such an unobtrusive way that you only realise it and you only miss it when it is no longer there,” said Daniels.

Klink is survived by his wife Jeanette, children Melissa and Andraé, grandchildren Jordan, Liam, Tanaka and Violet as well as his mother and six siblings.

By Greg Nicolson

One question would lead to two, and Paul’s ability to tell a tale and fill in the history behind your question would lead to lengthy conversations that always ensured you would be making excuses at your next appointment. But it was worth it because you were much richer and more well informed than you had been before you spoke to him.

Dobson, a giant of South African rugby media and refereeing, died on 21 July 2020 due to complications brought on by Covid-19. He was 84 years old.

Paul Dobson did not have a job. Loosely, he ‘worked’ in rugby, but it was much deeper than that. He was a teacher, raconteur, coach, referee, journalist, author and historian. He was a mentor, a father, a grandfather and a husband. He was a friend and a father-figure to many.

Craig Marais, who was one of the few black and coloured boys who attended the prestigious Diocesan College (Bishops) in the dark days of apartheid, has only fond memories of Paul.

“When my father passed away suddenly, Paul was there to help me through trying circumstances. Bishops meant more to my dad, who had a very poor and humble upbringing , than it did to me.

“Paul organised the Bishops chapel. He was a rock and a pillar once again.”

Dobson loved rugby. He respected the game and was passionate about its laws, how they were enforced and about the people (referees) who applied them. You only once ever made the mistake of talking about rugby’s ‘rules’ in front of Paul.

“They are laws,” he would say, before cracking a wry smile and giving you a warm pat on the back.

“Paul understood, and had time for, everyone’s views, beliefs and cultures; a gift that most of us could do with right now,” says Howard Kahn, who worked with Dobson at Rugby 365 at the turn of the century.

Dobson became chairman of the Western Province Referees Society in 1985 and managed all aspects of refereeing in the region until his retirement in 1999. He was also a member of the Western Province Rugby Council for 15 years.

Dobson's love for refereeing and for the laws of the game – he passed law exams every year for 50 years – was ingrained in his son, John, who is the current Stormers coach.

On the rare occasions when ‘Dobbo’ (John) is about to be critical of match officials, he always adds the caveat, “My father is going to kak on me for this,” moments before he voices his opinion. There probably isn’t a rugby coach in the world who has more respect for the match officials because of the values Paul instilled in John.

SA Rugby president Mark Alexander said, “Paul was a legend in the global refereeing community; was recognised for his services to the game by World Rugby in 2012 and was the fount of all knowledge on SA Rugby history in all communities.”

One of Paul’s other great loves was writing about the sport and he penned several books. He wrote the Official History of South African Rugby and Doc: The Life of Danie Craven. He also wrote biographies on former Springbok coach Nick Mallett and former referee Andre Watson.

Paul Dobson is survived by his wife Margaret and three children – John, Anne and Clare – and five grandchildren, Tom, James, David, Sarah and Annabel.

This is an edited excerpt from an article by Craig Ray

Elsa Joubert was born in 1922 in Paarl, the cradle of Afrikaans, three years before the official acceptance by the South African government of the language’s existence.

To a very large extent, her life was a juxtaposing of her love of the language to its evil usage and co-option by a government dedicated to denying and throttling the humanity and very existence of its citizens through the doctrine of apartheid.

It was a doctrine Joubert despised and opposed, in public and in her private life, leading to heartbreak, isolation and rejection by many white Afrikaans speakers, especially in the north of the country.

Reading through her extensive oeuvre, one can see that she could not breathe, that she cared about what mattered most – the other, those of a different hue than her own, which surely must be the litmus test for placing humanity above self-interest.

It may well be argued that mere opposition was not enough; that the struggle should have been joined. One person who believed passionately that Joubert had not done enough in the battle against apartheid was Elsa Joubert herself.

In her brilliant final book, entitled Spertyd (Deadline) – published when she was, would you believe it, 94 years old – the regret at not having done more is a golden thread binding the text.

But actually, like many people who believe they have not done enough, she had done plenty. Of the rich harvest of fiction she penned, our founding president, Nelson Mandela, loved Die staf van Monomotapa (The rod of Monomotapa) best, as Madiba said when Joubert was awarded the Order of Ikhamanga (silver) by former president Thabo Mbeki.

Her best-known work is Die swerfjare van Poppie Nongena (The Nomadic life of Poppie Nongena), which is often listed as one of the top 100 books to come out of Africa.

Perhaps her greatest contribution was, and might yet be, attempting to change the thinking of callous South Africans – a quest to restore humanity and caring to the mind of power-drunk, despotic rulers.

Elsa Joubert lived. Elsa Joubert led. And all of South Africa is richer for it.

This is an edited version of Jan-Jan Joubert's tribute to Elsa Joubert

He won every time.

Debiky died at the Life Chatsmed Garden Hospital on 17 January 2021 after he was admitted with Covid-19 on 3 January.

Born to parents Harichander and Meerawathie Debiky in Chatsworth, Durban, “He was the apple of everyone's eye, a chubby little boy who got away with the naughtiest of things,’’ said his younger brother Dinesh Debiky.

Their father was stern, but Debiky's grandparents made sure he never shouted at the child. He was a straight-A pupil at school. He was ever so willing to help the others with homework or even just an explanation, said Dinesh.

In high school, he excelled in sporting events such as shot put and javelin and was inspired to pursue photography by his uncle, the family photographer. “We ourselves didn't expect him to gain such a reputation,” said Dinesh.

Debiky won multiple awards for his sports photography and was well known on the KwaZulu-Natal sporting scene, shooting for a wide range of local and international publications.

“Anesh has been a regular feature at Hollywoodbets Kingsmead Stadium and did not just capture the action on the field, but also captured the hearts of many players, administrators, officials, and spectators. His presence will be sorely missed,” said Heinrich Strydom, KZN Cricket CEO.

Pholetsi Moseki, Cricket SA acting CEO, said, “Mr Debiky was a warm and kind-hearted person and was always driven by the passion for his craft, for which he was revered. His passing is a loss to sports photography in general and cricket in particular.”

When Debiky wasn't working at a sporting event, he enjoyed watching sport on TV, particularly his favourite competitors, including Ivan Lendl, Michael Schumacher and Joost van der Westhuizen.

He also loved numbers and solving mathematical problems. Dinesh described him as “practically a genius”.

“He was a huge fan of The Big Bang Theory as, according to him, it was an intelligent comedy,” he said.

“He was the type of person who will go all out to assist anyone in need. When my parents passed on, he took on the role of them and for that, we are forever grateful. He played the role of a protective brother.

“He also wanted us to learn life's lessons on our own. A humble and gentle soul that touched the hearts of many. He was also a person who with just a 'hello' or a passing by will leave a memory of a lifetime.”

Debiky is survived by his brother Dinesh, sister Roshni and niece Yuvthi.

By Greg Nicolson

Hendrickse died on 4 January 2021 at Mediclinic Stellenbosch after he was admitted with Covid-19. He owned a construction company and served as a councillor in the municipality, first for the Stellenbosch Civic Association and then the EFF.

Hendrickse attended Cloetesville High and was a star athlete, an SA Amateur Athletic Board junior high jump champion and record holder.

“When I bumped into Derrick a week ago in Stellenbosch our parting words were banter about how I cannot even run a five-kilometre and how he cannot even jump one metre because we both grew some kilograms since the early 1980s,” joked Hendrickse’s former coach Allan Parrott in a tribute.

He studied to be a quantity surveyor at Peninsula Training College and worked for De Leeuw Group and Boshard Construction before eventually establishing his own company.

“He was a man that stood out for right is right and wrong is wrong,” said Stellenbosch Community Voices.

The publication was formed out of the Idas Valley Housing Committee and Hendrickse respected the group’s decision to stay apolitical. He showed up at meetings in his EFF regalia, but never politicised discussions.

“He had fully committed himself to the Stellenbosch community’s cause. He was very passionate about helping those who are in need. He was a great listener who would always advise you to follow your heart,” said Stellenbosch Community Voices.

“For him, it wasn’t about money or fame. It was only about the community’s needs. He was involved in soup kitchens, helped with sanitisers and toiletries, food parcels, digging out from his own pocket or getting sponsors to help him.”

Hendrickse was opinionated and talkative and could spend hours on the phone discussing ideas about how to address the community’s challenges, always making time for those who sought his advice.

The EFF Western Cape said he was strident in his efforts to confront power relations in Stellenbosch.

“As a party, we have lost a true leader of society and hard worker who always put the interest of the poorest of the poor at heart.

“Fighter Hendrickse was a leader with foresight, deep sense of justice for the oppressed and had a lot to offer to our continuous struggle against injustice. He may be gone for now, but his legacy will linger on into the ages.”

He is survived by his wife Saneya Biscombe, children Tauriq and Aqeela, his mother Mary and his siblings Collette, Natalie and Malcom.

By Greg Nicolson

Born in Claremont, Cape Town, in 1950, he was the second-eldest of six children. His family was forcibly moved to District Six due to apartheid’s Group Areas Act and his father worked two jobs to provide for the family, meaning his mother had to raise the children.

“She taught them the importance of family, the significance of caring for your neighbour and greatness of wanting to do good despite the odds,” said Jakoet’s daughter Dr Fareda Jakoet-Bassier.

“I believe that it is because of the remarkable mother that she was, that my father’s passion to do good was born.”

Jakoet had always wanted to study medicine, seeing it as a direct way to help his community, especially those less fortunate.

“He felt that by being a doctor within the community, it would allow him to be most accessible to those seeking help. He was driven by his love for the Creator and his strong Islamic principles to be of service to mankind,” said Jakoet-Bassier.

After his death on 16 June 2020, patients pinned messages of gratitude to the walls of the well-known surgery he shared with his brother Dr Yusuf Jakoet in Albert Street, Salt River.

Former patients honoured the doctor on Facebook. One post read, “A doctor, a brother, a friend and a community role model, so many ways to describe and say farewell to a beloved individual and community icon that has touched the hearts of so many. I truly feel blessed to have met such a generous and kind person of our time.”

Jakoet-Bassier said, “He assisted with many feeding schemes, built houses, schools and mosques, helped to establish social workers in the community, assist people with their start-up businesses, finance children’s schooling and in some cases their tertiary education as well.

“Many of these activities were not known to anyone other than the people involved. We, his family, only learnt about a lot of his interactions after his passing when the people he helped came forward to tell us about the man that he was.”

She described her father as kind, humble and pious, a reliable man of routine who was content with the bare minimum and took pleasure in the simple things.

“He was never harsh in disciplining his children but would rather guide to the right direction,” said Jakoet-Bassier.

“When it came to choosing our careers, he played a very active role in this. We knew that no matter what, we had to choose careers that actively served the community and be a benefit to mankind.”

All five of Jakoet’s children studied medicine and work as general practitioners in Mitchells Plain, District Six, Hanover Park, Gugulethu and Khayelitsha.

Jakoet is survived by his wife, Shaheeda, son Zaid, daughters Ayesha, Fareda, Sideeqa and Ishraaq, and four grandchildren, Yahya Eesa, Israa, Aayah and Mohammad Haytham.

By Greg Nicolson

Thabethe was born in the small village of Kroomhoek, near Amersfoort, Mpumalanga, the fifth of nine children. She attended Enon Bantu School and was described as a kind, active child who loved to smile.

After school, she found a job in Nelspruit before relocating to Johannesburg in the early 1980s where she worked as a domestic worker for the Scheppers family until she died at Charlotte Maxeke Johannesburg Academic Hospital on 15 January 2021 after she was admitted with Covid-19.

“She was very loving, caring, humble. I’ve never seen her angry,” said Thabethe’s daughter, Nonhanhla Mlotshwa.

“She liked sharing no matter how small the thing is. She was a people’s person, ever-smiling kind of person and a hard worker. She wanted the best for everyone. She used to sew clothes for us and bake Christmas cakes. She would make us laugh with her dancing.”

Mlotshwa received a call from her mother’s employer on Monday 11 January informing her that she was in hospital. They spoke on the phone and Mlotshwa could hear that her mother was struggling to breathe.

On Tuesday, Thabethe asked for toiletries and when they spoke the next day, she sounded better. But on Thursday, Thabethe didn’t answer her phone. She had been placed on a ventilator.

They spoke again on Friday morning and Mlotshwa heard how her mother was again struggling to breathe and also heard her ask the male nurse to pass her toothbrush. Hours later, the hospital called to say Thabethe had died.

“In December we were together for the holidays. She kept on telling me that should she die, I must give her the best funeral service,” said Mlotshwa.

In 2018, her mother had already pointed out which coffin she wanted.

“I’m glad that her wishes came true ’cause I did what she asked for. I know she’s happy. Now I have gained an angel that is watching over me forever. I miss her already.”

Mlotshwa took to Facebook to thank the staff at Charlotte Maxeke.

“My mom passed away on Friday at the hospital. I appreciate the Covid-19 Ward 586. They did their level best to save her but unfortunately, she didn’t make it. The nurses are always so welcoming. They gave me hope. Ward 586, keep it up. The staff of Ward 586 deserve awards,” she wrote.

Thabethe is survived by her daughter, two sisters and a brother.

By Greg Nicolson

He completed his librarianship studies at the University of Transkei (Unitra) and University of Cape Town before joining UCT Libraries in 2006. He worked at the university until his death from Covid-19 on 26 December 2020 in Mthatha, Eastern Cape.

“I am Siya, my friends call me Minz, I come from Mthatha and subscribe to the idea of being a pantsula,” he introduced himself in a post for UCT Libraries in 2019.

His younger sister Ncebakazi Luzipho described him as a loving, genuine family man with a big heart. “He was very sensitive, strong, but sensitive.”

“His laughter will make you cry,” she said.

She remembers how her protective big brother would look out for her when she started primary school, checking on her during the breaks. When she followed him to study at Unitra, he often visited her room and when Luzipho moved to East London, Mamve would visit from Cape Town each month.

They were so close, sometimes people thought they were a couple.

Mamve moved to UCT’s humanities faculty in 2018. “We sought to bring Siya into humanities because of his knowledge across arts and social sciences subjects, particularly in music, languages and political studies, and for his deep cultural knowledge and love of history, which brought many students to his door,” said Alex D’Angelo, principal librarian for the university’s humanities department.

“A good man, an example and a role model to follow. Students sought Siya out, but it was by no means only the students who looked up to Siya. Everybody looked up to Siya,” he continued in a UCT tribute.

Gcobisa Xalabile, a colleague who first met Mamve at Unitra in 1993, said, “He always looked after me, was my partner in events, my bodyguard and a good friend. A devoted father to his children, a responsible son to his mother, a big brother to his siblings and a faithful employee at UCT.”

Another colleague, Susanne Noll, said Mamve was always immaculately dressed. “There was a twinkle in his eyes all the time. His wonderful deep singing voice will always be missed. He was so compassionate and wise.”

Kashiefa Shade-Lucas said, “He could make us smile and calm my nerves. He was one of my right hands in the classroom.”

Lena Nyahodza said, “You would not pass through Siya’s office with a long face and let you go unless you tell him what is bothering you or he makes sure to crack jokes and you will end up laughing. He was a counsellor who would listen to any story no matter how silly it sounds and still lead you to find a possible solution.”

Mamve had four children, Khanya, Kuhle, Mila and Siziphiwe.

By Greg Nicolson

The Legal Resources Centre’s (LRC’s) Makhanda team had decided to have a small get-together last year instead of the elaborate braai it usually held. Morrison, who always had a sense of occasion, brought Christmas decorations, plates and tablecloths from her own home.

“We would have been drinking from paper cups had it not been for her,” said the LRC’s Makhanda regional office in a statement.

Morrison died from Covid-19 related complications on the afternoon of 15 January 2021 after spending 10 days on oxygen at Netcare Settlers Hospital.

Former LRC regional director Sarah Sephton remembers when Morrison came for a job interview in 2010. She had been recommended by a colleague who had worked with her at another law firm. During the interview, she was asked to sit at a desk near the office’s entrance and type a document.

The wife of an attorney at the firm where Morrison was still working arrived unexpectedly. Surprised, she asked Morrison what she was doing at LRC.

“We were all so embarrassed for her and ourselves at being caught out mid-poach of their best secretary so we decided we better hire her in case they fired her! Best decision we ever made,” said Sephton.

Morrison became much more than a legal secretary. She had an eye for detail and would perform some of the work normally expected of candidate attorneys. She was a go-to for IT challenges and would induct new staff members.

“With the loss of Valencia, it feels as if our entire office is slightly out of step. So many sentences began with, ‘Go ask Valencia…’, ‘We can get Vee to…’, or ‘Valencia will know…’,” read the LRC’s statement.

It continued, “During the strict lockdown in early 2020, she arranged for food parcels from one of the local churches to be provided to struggling members in her community. When the church initially refused as they were not part of the congregation, she drove to the church herself to pick up the parcels, not taking no for an answer.”

People would often ask Morrison for help with their legal issues and she made certain the LRC team gave them a hearing.

“I think that what struck me about Valencia was how fair and kind she was to everyone in the office, anyone that she came in contact with. She treated all of us the same way. No one got special treatment because of their status or wealth or standing,” said Sephton.

Morrison spoke proudly of her children, always ready to show photos of their matric balls, graduations and prize-giving ceremonies and she worked hard to give them the opportunities she did not have.

LRC said, “She loved beautiful things. She was always elegantly dressed and accepted every compliment in this regard graciously with a huge smile and a ‘DANKIE!’.”

Morrison is survived by her daughters Caitlin and Pienkie, parents Pam and Winston, partner Reeve and sisters Bronwyn and Sheila.

By Greg Nicolson

She died on 7 December 2020 due to Covid-19-related complications.

Before her death, Lindberg was the CEO of the Naledi Theatre Awards. The organisation said of her legacy: “She was a legend of the performing arts in South Africa.”

In 1962, while studying fine art at the University of the Witwatersrand, she first met Des Lindberg, the man with whom she would be linked artistically (and then in their marriage in 1965) until her death.

They joined forces as a folk duo and had a string of hits and albums, most prominently and famously The Seagull’s Name Was Nelson, first released in 1971.

For years, as 20th-century troubadours, Des and Dawn toured the nation – and neighbouring countries – with their music, performing in clubs, restaurants, town halls and pubs while artistic content was restricted and live performances segregated.

In 1967, Folk on Trek, one of Des and Dawn’s albums from that period, was banned, in that case on the grounds of obscenity. The duo appealed against the ban, but lost their case and, as a result, all copies of the offending album were supposed to have been destroyed, although, not surprisingly, some collectors kept their copies. Despite that ruling, the record became a bit of a cult classic.

In 1973, the couple obtained the rights to the smash-hit Broadway musical Godspell. Given the circumstances of South Africa at the time, the multiracial cast’s rehearsals took place on the lawn of the Lindbergs’ Johannesburg house rather than in a theatre, and the premiere of the show was staged at the Holiday Inn in neighbouring Maseru, Lesotho, in a purpose-built venue, before subsequently touring throughout South Africa when a ban for blasphemy was lifted.

Godspell is generally seen as the first integrated cast production of a Broadway-style musical in South Africa.

With their earnings, the Lindbergs invested over the years in a number of shows, such as Pippin, The Black Mikado (the first West End musical to premiere in Soweto); The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas (when the title – but not the work – was banned); and The Vagina Monologues.

In 2004, Dawn founded and then led the annual Naledi Theatre Awards into becoming South Africa’s premier theatre awards. With its intensive judging process, virtually every production staged in Johannesburg, Pretoria and surrounding areas is viewed by panels of judges to select the award winners. Since its inception, it has honoured more than 300 artists and theatre makers, and awarded more than 60 Lifetime Achievement Awards to leading South African performers, directors and other creatives.

Dawn Lindberg is survived by her husband Des, sons Joshua and Adam, and two grandchildren.

This is an edited version of J Brooks Spector’s tribute to Dawn Lindberg.

The great South African food writer, author and editor died in a Johannesburg hospital on 3 January 2021 of Covid-19 complications. Sitole had just entered what she had called her “encore years”, which sadly turned out to be short-lived.

On first opening her book, Dorah Sitole 40 Years of Iconic Food, in November last year, I was captivated – and it’s not easy to be enthralled with so many cookery books on the market all vying for shelf space and your attention.

This was no ordinary cookbook. Nor was it merely a cookbook. When any book has the heart and soul of the writer in it, it transcends its genre. Now, more than ever, it deserves to stand testament to Sitole’s status, earned over more than 40 years in the industry.

Her publisher, Human & Rousseau, said Sitole was “a significant icon”, respected and loved by all who met her. “Everyone at the publishing house extends sincere condolences to Dorah’s family at this most difficult time.”

Eloise Wessels, CEO of NB Publishers, said: “Dorah Sitole was not only an icon of the South African culinary landscape but was a pioneer in popularising traditional and contemporary African cooking and cuisine in a broader context; she was also a lovely, kind and deeply generous person. We shall miss her terribly.”

Olinka Nel, procurement director of CNA, said: “Dorah paved the way for a whole new generation of black female chefs in South Africa, and will always be remembered as a cultural pioneer. It has been such an honour to sell her books and to launch her last gift to the nation. Everyone at CNA is devastated by the news.”

Born at the Shanty Clinic in Soweto on 24 September 1953, Sitole became fascinated by food, in particular rhubarb, at just two when living at her grandfather’s house, where her aunt Mani Maria grew vegetables including rhubarb. There were a few chickens but food was scarce, with 10 mouths to feed. In winter it was “mostly pap and tripe” with the chickens “reserved for special days when important guests came to visit”.

“Then Mani would catch one, slaughter it and dunk it in boiling water. When it had cooled down just a bit, we children would pluck the feathers until the bird was perfectly clean. This was a meal to look forward to; we ate everything, including the feet, intestines and head.”

Moving back to Dube, Soweto, in 1963 represented a “whole new life” for the teenage Dorah, “and a whole new way of eating”. “All of a sudden I was in a home where bread and fresh milk were bought every day. There was jam and peanut butter to spread on the bread … for supper our go-to isishebo was the mixed legumes stew: made with lentils, barley and split peas.”

School holidays took them to Ratanda, Heidelberg, where her aunt Joana worked for the local Eskort pork factory and would bring home treats including smoked pork ribs, “which were to die for, grilled in the oven and served with pap and atchar”.

Sitole chanced into food writing when she took a job as a home economist for the Canned Food Advisory Service and, in 1987, began doing food columns for True Love magazine.

In the book, she tells her life and food story, richly and sweetly, and walks us through the food of her decades. Not “only” the four decades in the food and food writing industries, but the “two decades that prepared me for the path I was to walk” and on to those “encore years”.

The legacy of this extraordinary book, the culmination of 40 years and more in the food industry in South Africa, will stand in honour on the cookbook shelves of all those who appreciate what food writers bring to us in recording the recipes of our lives, our people and our times together.

This is an edited version of Tony Jackman’s tribute to Dorah Sitole.

I first met Jackson in 1982 in Ackerville township, where we both grew up and, as young impatient comrades, became active in the civics organisation of Witbank. It was through this unwavering commitment from a young age that he emerged as one of our leaders.

His clever articulations, militant and determined strategies, inclusive leadership style and charming sense of humour meant that from the small mining town of Witbank we were able to fight against the brutal apartheid regime.

He served as the critical node that connected the national leadership of the ANC and UDF to the resistance movement in Witbank. At a time when political communication was difficult, we had a man of the highest calibre carrying out the responsibility that made our work easier. As the years passed, and our resistance and friendship grew stronger, we constantly drew on each other’s counsel and pushed each other to keep going.

I learnt that Jackson was part of the 1976 student uprisings in Elukhanyisweni and was arrested for the alleged possession of arms, which the Boers believed were stored in his parents’ home.

Jackson only started driving in the 1990s, although together we had traversed the Highveld area carrying out our work. One day in ’86 springs to mind. Driving back from a late-night meeting, he said, “Hussain, let me try to drive.” Over the next 200 metres the car stalled about five times and we joked, “Bra Jack, if the Boers won’t kill us, your driving will!”

While employed at Highveld Steel, he never wavered from his political mission and played a crucial role in the formation and introduction of Numsa at Highveld Steel, keeping management on its toes.

His dynamism in mobilising initially for the UDF and later for the ANC, throughout what was then the Eastern Transvaal, has left a legacy of its own. He played a pivotal role in organising the Sekunjalo Festival in 1993, when Madiba honoured us with his presence.

We were also fortunate to rely on Jackson’s wisdom and advice when establishing a branch office in the CBD of Witbank. Through his efforts, many leaders visited Witbank, including Chris Hani and Harry Gwala. Their impact and his own life’s work live on in the stories I tell my sons Zubair and Shafee about the ANC I came to love and the great minds and hearts behind it. Certainly, Jackson Mthembu is right up there with the great South Africans we read about.

Jackson remained one of the few politicians who admitted just how flawed this great movement had become post-democracy. He worked hard to undo the damage, and one can only hope his hard work will not be in vain.

As he sat in hospital in his last days, he took the time to respond to a tactless tweet saying that “the same people who tell us to wash our hands and wear masks every day are contracting Covid”. There is a profound lesson in Jackson’s brief final tweet in response: “They are human too.”

Jackson’s was a courageous, but openly vulnerable and sincere life. His profound insight, spirit of defiance and irrepressible humour – common to the truly brilliant activists and political communicators, those who understand that to go far we must go together, who embody the African proverb of “building your table longer and not your walls higher” – will serve as treasure troves of wisdom for young and old alike.

This is an edited version of Hussain Verachia’s tribute to Jackson Mthembu.

A 60-year-old black consciousness movement (BCM) stalwart, Mkhize succumbed to the Covid-19 virus, exacerbated by pneumonia, while hospitalised at Durban’s St Augustine’s Hospital. Mkhize was the serving general secretary of the Transport Retail and General Workers’ Union, an affiliate of the South African Federation of Trade Unions.

According to Mkhize’s daughter, Tracey Fared, “The Mkhize family would like to implore community members to remember our social obligation to our communities to protect and shield our elders and vulnerable members from the Covid-19 pandemic, which is devastating our close-knit communities. We all have a social responsibility to practise social distancing, follow prescribed protocols and avoid risky behaviour that may increase infection.”

Mkhize, who lived in the heart of Wentworth in the Durban South Basin, was part of the vanguard of the Auswent Civic Association, which advocates the upliftment of the community of Wentworth and ensures the provision of much-needed social infrastructure, including the Austerville Community Hall and Collingwood Tennis Court. Mkhize was recognised for his bold activism in healing community divisions, fighting racism and eliminating race and class inequities.

At the age of 16, Mkhize was involved in the 1976 uprising, during which black learners clashed with apartheid security machinery to protest against Afrikaans being enforced as the compulsory language of instruction. The young firebrand soon became a target for the apartheid security police.

It was during this period that Mkhize’s political activism drew him to the BCM ideology – to which he remained true throughout his life – even at great personal cost. While Mkhize was a Bachelor of Law (LLB) student at the former University of Durban-Westville he was forced to abruptly terminate his studies due to his student bursary being retracted. This was directly linked to his political activism, which was aimed at dismantling the apartheid state.

Mkhize was an intellectual who joined forces with Steve Biko, Strini Moodley, Khotso Seatlholo and other like-minded revolutionaries. At the age of 25, Mkhize was a seasoned political leader, having been detained without trial at Westville Prison along with the late Keith Joseph. While imprisoned, Mkhize and Joseph worked to politically conscientise fellow inmates and spearhead prison reform.

Mkhize will be remembered for his unwavering commitment and leadership towards social justice, labour rights, the bridging of inequities and the empowerment of grassroots community structures. He is survived by his wife and comrade Thandie, daughter Tracey and son Leon.

Submitted by Oliver Meth.

He worked as a pharmacist at the Baker Street Pharmacy in Edenvale, Gauteng, before qualifying as a medical doctor and opening the Baker Street Medical Practice. He died on 15 January 2021 due to Covid-19.

Dr Linda Baigent worked with him for 13 years. She said Govender, born in Durban, came from humble beginnings and had a passion for learning that was instilled by his father, a school principal.

“He originally qualified as a pharmacist and worked for many years in the pharmaceutical industry. He realised that he had a bigger purpose to save lives and followed his dream to become a medical doctor.”

The pair had weekend jobs, he as a pharmacist and Baigent as a receptionist, when they met while they were both studying medicine.

When Govender finished his studies at Wits and decided to open his own practice, he asked Baigent if she would join him when it was large enough for another doctor. She started working with him two years later.

“Mark was gentle and caring. He always had a big smile for his patients. He was always concerned for me and especially in the last year seemed to know when I was having a bad day and would come sit in my office to chat and check how I was doing,” she said.

“I will miss his happy greeting daily and our chats about our weekends and how excited he would get about the new things he had tried cooking or baking.”

Govender was well-known in Edenvale. After his death, patients posted tributes on social media.

Boni Longhurst wrote on Facebook, “He has been part of my life since I was a teenager and through all my kids who are now teenagers themselves. The doctor who knew my every anxious question before I even asked, who always reassured me that I will be fine and survive, a doctor that knew me.”

Outside of his career, Govender was passionate about his family. They went snorkelling on one family holiday but Govender couldn’t swim. He vowed to learn so he could join them in the water on the next family vacation.

“At the end of last year, his boys were so proud of him as he managed to swim the length of the gym pool. He was always learning new things so that he could experience them with his boys. He believed you are never too old to achieve anything in life,” said Baigent.

He was a devout Hindu and served as the secretary of the Melrose Temple.

Govender is survived by his wife, Dr Meshandree Naidoo, and his two sons.

By Greg Nicolson