The fundraising dinner to mark what would have been Ahmed Kathrada’s 96th birthday was meant to be an evening of generosity and solidarity, but it became something far deeper.
As we gathered to celebrate the life and legacy of one of SA’s most principled Struggle veterans, we were reminded of the power of Kathrada’s voice.
A clip was played from his 2014 acceptance speech at the Asian Awards in London, an award he dedicated “to those who died before our freedom”. With characteristic humility, he shifted the spotlight away from himself and toward those whose sacrifices went unacknowledged.
He singled out Ruth First, assassinated by a parcel bomb in Mozambique. But his words also stirred memories of two other South Africans whose spirits continue to roam our troubled landscape: Tsotetsi Seakgwa and Abraham Onkgopotse Tiro. These are names that refuse to die.
They are ghosts whose families still yearn for justice, 31 years into democracy. Their unresolved stories remind us that the democratic dawn did not automatically bring answers; it brought responsibility.
Perhaps the most moving moment of the evening came when Reverend Molo of the SA Council of Churches recited a poem by the late Prof Keorapetse Kgositsile. With his steady voice, he reminded us that together we can, and we must, heal the wounds of our people.
The evening also saw the inauguration of The Kathy Award, a tribute to public servants who embody the integrity and moral courage Kathrada exemplified.
The first recipients, Edward Kieswetter and Ismail Momoniat, could not have been more fitting. Both men have stood tall in defence of the public purse. They have fought corruption not as an abstract enemy but as a daily battle that demands personal sacrifice.
They were honoured for living the values that Uncle Kathy lived: honesty, accountability, and service above self. In a time when cynicism is easy and integrity is costly, their recognition was a powerful reminder that ethical leadership still exists and must be celebrated.
While the evening was framed as a fundraising effort for the Ahmed Kathrada Foundation, it became an act of collective introspection.
The foundation’s CEO, Neeshan Balton, spoke with refreshing honesty, reminding us that civil society organisations committed to justice often bear the heaviest cost.
They are underfunded, undermined, and sometimes pushed to the brink of closure. The very work they do, work that protects the nation’s conscience, makes them unpopular with those who benefit from secrecy, corruption, and authoritarianism.
Neeshan shared a story that was both sobering and instructive. The foundation’s annual golf day was once an incredibly successful fixture on the corporate calendar.
But that changed after Kathrada wrote a public letter in 2016 calling on then-president Jacob Zuma to resign. This single act of courage, consistent with his lifelong commitment to truth, triggered a wave of corporate withdrawals. Companies were suddenly afraid of political association.
They feared losing government favour. And so, they quietly distanced themselves. It was a telling moment about our democracy: the very institutions meant to defend it are often the first to be punished for doing so.
For Uncle Kathy, leadership had nothing to do with title and everything to do with courage. He believed fiercely in young people, not as tokens of representation but as engines of change.
He pushed us, challenged us, and held us to an uncompromising ethical standard.
This dinner was not merely a celebration of his life; it was a summons to action. A reminder that democracy is not self-sustaining. That it requires vigilance, courage, and sacrifice.
It reminded us that supporting institutions of conscience, from the Kathrada Foundation to countless others, is not charity. It is nation-building. It is a vote for the kind of SA we want to leave behind.
In his spirit, let us remember this truth: “Hope is not naïve. It is the stubborn belief that justice can still win if enough of us dare to defend it.”
Uncle Kathy’s life reminds us that we, too, must dare. Dare to dream. But most importantly, dare to act on those dreams of a country we want to leave behind for those who are still to be born.
- Hatang is executive director at Re Hata Mmoho
Sowetan