Wednesday, December 31, 2014

2014 was a very shit year!!

The last day of 2014 … I have been sitting here and pondering on the past year and the new one ahead.  Did I do everything I possibly could to make those who care about me know that I appreciate and love them.  Yes!  Have I done everything possible for the freedom of Eugene de Kock this year?  Yes!  Have I done all I can to find a cure for my rare illness?  Yes!  Have I done as much as I could to help those who are worse off than me?  Yes!  Have I been the change that I want to see in the world?  Most the time!

I got the moer-in a couple of times, lost my temper, got impatient, frustrated and irritated.  I fought with myself, got angry with my situation and often felt despair.  Too much time spent on being angry with fools.   Too much time wasted in worry and stress.   Too much time wasted in trying to house train an untrainable husband. Too many times I felt like giving up…too many times I wanted to take the easy way out by committing suicide.  Too many days wasted in pain, in hospital or sleeping.  Too much wasted time! 

Tomorrow beings a New Year and I need new challenges.  I know that Eugene de Kock will be freed this year.  Call it intuition, inside info or just a gut feeling…he will be freed in 2015.  Once we have a Presidential Pardon for Eugene (not just a parole), my job is over.  I will have to work harder at being the change I want to see in the world, but I also have to find another passion that is bigger than who I am, so I can feel worthy to live and be in this beautiful world.   I have spent days thinking about what I can do that will light the fire of passion in my soul after Eugene is free. 

John Costello, a FB friend, gave me an idea – about sharing what it is like to be debilitating(ly), chronically ill with a rare disease, so that others don’t feel alone and our friends and family can learn how to respond to us.  This will be one of my pursuits in 2015.   Another pursuit will be far more challenging.  I want white people in South Africa to stop apologising, to stop feeling oppressed and to start standing up to be counted as fully functioning members of the South African nation.   More than 40 years ago, Steve Biko said that "the most potent weapon of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed".  I can now say the same.    We will never be treated equal as long as we swallow the propaganda that Whites are the scum of Africa.   I would like to change that.  I would like to make a difference to the racism that is so rampant in our land.   How I am going to tackle either one of these two missions/pursuits still has to be worked out.  I do think though, that these two things may be the passion that is bigger than myself and will give me a reason to fight for life.

I am sitting here at my computer, typing this and thinking at the same time.  I ask myself what I would do if I could have just 48 illness-free hours.   I would tie a 20 metre Free Eugene de Kock banner across the freeway bridge at peak hour traffic.  I would put another banner across the Port Elizabeth Town Hall.  I would hold my grandchild and touch her for the first time.  I would walk on the beach and splash in the waves.  I would fly a kite from the Donkin.  I would change the linen, scrub the kitchen floor and bake a cake for my mom.  I would fill my bedroom with flowers and visit a bookshop.  I would go to Middelburg and look for all my children.  I would put the headstone on my father’s grave in Coffee Bay.  Perhaps 48 hours won’t be enough.   
  

2014 was a very challenging year.  When I say that from my heart it changes to 2014 was a very shit year.  I will be pleased to slam and bolt the door on this year and open the New Year tomorrow, filled with hope for a better future for us all. 

Thursday, October 16, 2014

We have a choice: Life or Death

My diet 
I am not living properly and I am not dying properly … I am hanging around in the middle somewhere with no deadline for either health or death.   

I have always said that hanging around in the passage is the most difficult thing when one door has closed and the other has not opened yet.   This ‘life-threatening’ passage is the most challenging one I have been in.  I can’t see the door that closed or if that same door is going to open again … and I can’t see where or when the new door will open.   The devil does not want me and God does not want a deputy.  

Money can’t buy health, but it sure as hell can give you a better chance at opening the health door.  A million bucks would give me a fighting chance of opening that door.   The sixty tablets in the second drawer next to my bed will open the other door.   

But for today, I choose to live.  One second at a time, then one minute at a time … and then tomorrow comes, and I will be glad I chose LIFE!

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

An Exercise in Futility: Saving Mandela's Children


Roselene 
PROTECTING THE INNOCENT AND DEFENDING THE RIGHT TO LIFE

My name is Roselene.   I died three days before I turned four months old.  My mother died of AIDS when I was four weeks old.   I was living with my maternal grandmother and father.  The police fetched my body and I was pronounced Dead on Arrival at the Hospital.  My vagina looks raw and sore and swollen, but maybe that is because I was neglected or maybe it was something else.   My granny was not at home when I got hurt.  My father was at home.  I did not die straight away.   I cried for a long time and blood was coming out my nose, mouth and ears.  My granny fed me a bottle to try and stop me crying and eventually I was quiet.   Very quiet and very still. 

My burial certificate says I died of AIDS on 25th August 2002.  

There is an AIDS activist in the township where I lived.   Her name is Dianne Lang.  She went around to try and find out how it was possible that I died of AIDS at four months but my face was swollen, bruised and covered in blood.   How can a post-mortem tell that I died of AIDS?   Even if blood tests were taken, it is impossible to have got the results back in such a short time, given where I live and where the nearest blood laboratory is.  She reported my strange cause of death to the Independent Complaints Directorate on the 27th August 2002.   On the same day, she received a phone call from the police, wanting a statement.   A statement was given to the SAPS about a week later and since then, despite numerous calls to various Superintendents, Captains, Commissioners and the ICD, nothing happened for almost two months.   Now we are waiting for a Magistrate to give an order to have my body exhumed for another post-mortem.

If it takes this long to sort out one death of one little baby girl, what hope do we have of the rescue of AIDS orphans whom are being used as prostitutes?

Are we so habituated to the AIDS and HIV situation in this country, that it no longer matters if a baby dies or just another mother dies of AIDS, even if the evidence is blatantly different to what we are being told. 

If we are pounded with enough data, enough input, then we can be convinced of almost anything.   People, young and old, smart or stupid, educated or not, have had their views and realities as well as their values altered by a relentless deluge of distorted data.   Is this what has happened to us in South Africa with regard to the AIDS problem?   If you are buying into all the misinformation of AIDS, then your world and values could be totally upside down and you may not even know it. 

If you don't stand for something, you will fall for almost anything!   Make a stand!

HIV and AIDS statistics mean nothing to anyone anymore.  Look at Roselene's face, and tell me again, that HIV/AIDS does not touch you in some way.

Roselene was murdered, allegedly by her father.   But does this make her father a murderer?   Imagine having a crying baby that is hungry, no money to buy food, no employment, the mother of the baby dead from AIDS, your mother-in-law an alcoholic and you, yourself, feeling ill because you are also HIV+ and the baby does not stop crying.  Imagine for a moment the stress that the father goes through when faced with this situation.

I investigated Roselene's death because it was the first blatantly obvious death caused not by AIDS, but by the circumstances that people find themselves in as a result of an AIDS death.  

Support groups for father's left with babies after the mother has died of AIDS, has to be investigated and some support in terms of physical, emotional and mental needs, must be made available to these fathers.   Women die faster from AIDS than do men and are four times more likely to become HIV+.   This means that fathers are being left with babies to take care of.   Most of those babies will test HIV positive by the time they are 18 months old, because there is no Nevirapine for the mother to child transmission prevention and there is no medication for the HIV positive mother, so she usually dies within four months of giving birth.

If you care, then make a stand.  Send me e-mails, send me donations of clothes, linen or money.   Volunteer to help me.  Volunteer to make a difference.   Help me to make clothes for the old dolls so that we can give them to the orphans for Xmas.   Make teddies so I can give them to our abused kids.  Find something that you no longer want – we need whatever we can get.   Give me one tin of food a month.   Feed a child for R50,00 a month.   Accept the people around you, love them with all your heart, because tomorrow they might not be there.   There are more HIV positive people than you know.  They are your family, your neighbors, your co-workers, and the girl behind the desk or the one behind the till at the supermarket.   Unless you have gone for a test and tested negative, the chances are that you are positive.   Start with your family.   Talk to them about HIV, hug them and love them.   They are not immune to HIV and nor are you.  Find out the truth about HIV/AIDS.   Make it your business to make a stand.   PLEASE !!!!   
Thank you for taking the time to read this.  You don't have to be an AIDS ACTIVIST to be an AIDS ANGEL.  


Just one of the stories in Saving Mandela's Children - also available at a reasonable price on Kindle. 

Operation Dynamite - Nothing will be hidden

"Can you tell me how the money between you and the trust works?" asked Manual.

          "I don't think I am going to answer any of your questions because your Advocate Cilliers told me that you could use the answers against me and I don't want to talk about anything now because whatever I say may be misconstrued so if you don't mind, I will not answer any of your questions," I said. 

Just then I was interrupted by a call from Stuart.   "Guess what, these fucking bastards have forgotten their equipment here at the office. They brought me back and left.  All their equipment to take copies from the computer are lying here.  What a fucking bunch of pricks!"
 
          "Well, they are still here trying to take copies from the computers but they struggling.  Are you OK?" I asked.

          "Ja, I'm fine...just fucking angry.  They think they can do as they fucking please... driving at 180km an hour...no regard for the speed limit...fucking cunts.  They digging a hole they going to fall into themselves and this is all because of that fucking Jenner." 

Stuart was ranting and raving and swearing non-stop, not that I blamed him.   I realized that the reason why they could not get what they wanted from the computers is because they had left some of their equipment behind at Stuart's office.   I told Manual that they had forgotten something at Stuart's office and after he spoke to the computer investigator, he called someone to go and collect their equipment at Stuart’s office.
  
          "Are these all your computers?" Manual asked. 

          "No, we have one in for repairs."

          "Tell them to bring the computer back." 

I did as I was asked and phoned Gary to bring the computer.  He brought it back immediately.  Gary was asked for advice about how to copy from a hard drive without corrupting the files.  He told the computer investigator how to do it.  He left the computer, which the Scorpions subsequently seized.

          "This is taking too much time.  We will just take your computers and return them when we are finished with them."  
 
          "No, you can't do that.  We cannot run the children's home without the computers so you must take what you want from them and leave them with us," I said.  
The missing Scorpion equipment duly arrived and eventually they had what they wanted, leaving us with computers that we could not work on because all the files had been corrupted by them.  Sometime in the afternoon, all the Scorpions left.  Manual promised me that the matter would be dealt with and the documents and equipment that they had seized would be returned to us before February. 
           

It was the 6th December 2006. 


A page from the book, Operation Dynamite, that I am writing. 

Monday, October 13, 2014

EUGENE DE KOCK - The Soldier We Left Behind.

Eugene de Kock told the TRUTH 
My curiosity about Eugene de Kock started a number of years ago when I read a book called A Human Being Died that Night by Pumla Gobodo-Madikizela.   It was a story of forgiveness and Archbishop Tutu stated that it was ‘A book that tugs at our humanity, compassion and integrity’.   While I lay in hospital reading that book, a passion was born.  I did research, went through the court case records, the TRC and read everything I could about Eugene de Kock.  For me, there was something fundamentally unjust about his case and I decided to do something about it. 
After about nine months of research, I wrote Eugene de Kock a letter, mentioning that I thought that his cause was worth fighting for.   It was months later that I received his reply.   

“Don’t waste your time and energy on me.  I am a lost cause”.  

For me, and for many others, there is no cause greater than getting Eugene de Kock pardoned and sent home.  It is much, much more than just freeing a man from prison.  It is about forgiveness, compassion and reconciliation of an entire nation.   It is about doing the right thing.  It has become my passion.   Nothing is impossible in South Africa.  If Nelson Mandela could become our President, then Eugene de Kock can be given a pardon.

Countries go to war to fetch one of their own or to revenge one of their own people.  Armies promise their soldiers that they will not be left behind.  It is our fault that one of our own, Eugene de Kock, was left behind.  It is our fault that the born-free people don’t know who he is.  It is our fault that so many people have forgotten him.  Bad things happen when good people turn away.  We turned away.  Many SA police and soldiers cannot move on with their lives because they remember that one was left behind.  An unconditional release for Eugene de Kock will not only affect him, but will heal many lives.  It will be the last door to be slammed shut on apartheid and it will open the door to a more compassionate and united South African nation.

Eugene de Kock is the ONLY South African trialled and sentenced for crimes against humanity after 45 years of apartheid. He was employed by the previous (Apartheid) government and executed orders handed down to him by his superiors. Not one of his superiors stood trial or were sentenced. He has now spent 20 years in a high security prison.  He fought bravely for his country, a product of the apartheid system, and then he was thrown into prison for the deeds he received bravery awards for.    Eugene resents what he has done and is remorseful - unlike the old Nats, he does not think apartheid was a policy mistake; he thinks it was a crime.  His previous employers, the Cabinet Ministers and Presidents, denied any knowledge of his work.  This is a blatant lie as I have seen photographs of a Cabinet Minister decorating his chest with medals for bravery. 
  
According to the law, a life prisoner has the right to apply for parole after 13 years, although not the right to receive parole.  The latest parole hearing was denied by the Minister of Justice and Correctional Services because Eugene de Kock’s profile had not been completed correctly, and because the families of the victims had not been consulted.  This is just an excuse to deny parole. 

He has asked forgiveness from the families of the victims, and he has been forgiven by many, some from as early as 2003.  The latest forgiveness and recommendation for his release has come from the Mama family.  This has been all over the media for the last two weeks.   I am not a lawyer, but I do think that the involvement with the families of victims was not part of the procedure when Eugene de Kock was sentenced, so I believe that it should not have affected his parole hearing.  However, Eugene de Kock asked to see the victim’s families without it being forced on him.   
With regard to the correct completion of his profile…this is the responsibility of the Department of Correctional Services and has nothing to do with what Eugene de Kock did or did not do.  This part of the reason for denial of his parole is completely out of his hands as it was not his responsibility.   Surely, the Correctional Services have had more than enough time to correctly complete an inmate’s profile after so many years of the inmate applying for parole?  Once the Correctional Services has rectified their negligence of the completion of his profile, there should be no reason why it cannot be brought before the Correctional Services Parole Board immediately.   Why should he have to wait another year, as stipulated by the Minister of Justice and Correctional Services, before he can again apply for parole?

Another argument that I want to discuss is that Eugene de Kock was imprisoned as a common criminal and not as a political criminal.  For this reason, politics should not be taken into account when addressing his parole.  Either he is treated like any other criminal as he is imprisoned as one, or he is elevated to that of a political criminal if politics is going to affect his parole.  No one can have his cake and eat it, not even the SA government.

The case of Eugene de Kock cannot be judged without taking the context into account.  It was war and atrocities were committed by every side during the struggle.   Eugene de Kock was the fall guy, the scape-goat and in my opinion, the trade-off between the National Party and the ANC.  The ANC negotiated EVERY SINGLE one of their people out of prison, but the National Party allowed one person to pay so that the Cabinet Ministers and those in command could walk away well-financed and free.

Please click the link below to find our FREE EUGENE DE KOCK Facebook group.  We invite you to join us. Warriors respect one another, even previous enemies.  Our group have members from every group and country involved who were previous enemies.  We all want to put that war to rest but cannot do that until our last soldier is released from prison.   We are requesting a Presidential Pardon for Eugene de Kock, or at the very least, an unconditional release.   He deserves compassion and forgiveness.  He has served his time.  He has paid, and paid, and paid…for the crimes of an entire government!  This is not fair and it is not just.  Either all are punished or all are set free.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/111601898698/10152779695773699/?notif_t=like

When asked why a mass murderer like Eugene de Kock should be freed on his own FB page, Jacques van Heerden answered thus:
How many ANC bomb planters were released with the inception of the New South Africa?
Eugene de Kock was a soldier who acted on the instructions of senior officers in the Police who in turn received their instructions from Parliament.
I'm not sure how familiar you are with internal control mechanisms in the SAP and SADF in order to draw explosives and weapons from logistical magazines.
If you are familiar with the old SAL/ SADF, you will know that not even a pin leaves a store without an authorization, or in Military terms, without a signal.
I mention this, because it would have been impossible for Eugene de Kock (EdK) to draw amongst others, explosives from a magazine without any authorization from higher command.
What makes his crime so inexcusable?
He executed people, who were at the time considered as terrorists. It is important to note my words, "at the time". Depending on where you found yourself they were either Freedom Fighters or terrorists.
If one has regard for some of the crimes that were committed by the "enemy" of the time, bombs in restaurants, in movie houses, shopping centres, necklacing of people accused of being police informers to mention but a few.
His actions, sanctioned by the apartheid government, were to eliminate those threats, which he did. He was given countless medals for his "good work" in safeguarding the people of South Africa. Medals received for action taken which later landed him in jail, when his masters turned their back on him.
Where do we draw the line! Let us call EdK a murderer of the Apartheid regime.
What do we call the late President Nelson Mandela? Bearing in mind that he ordered amongst others the Church Street Bomb, the Amamzimtoti shopping Centre bombing to name but a few? Did the late President Mandela apologize to the people of South Africa for those killed and maimed by the bombings he had ordered?
EdK and many former apartheid policemen went so far to reconcile and seek forgiveness for what they have done during apartheid. However, they are and will always be villains. No matter what they do, there seems to be a section of society/politicians who refuse to forgive them.
How do we put the past behind us if we are not prepared to clean the slate?
The past is water under the bridge, ashes in a fire. No matter what we do, we will never undo what happened in the past.
We cannot call a bullet back, nor can we undo a land mine that was planted on a civilian farm road that killed a farmer and his child.
We can however move forward together, with better understanding of our past thus ensuring not to repeat the mistakes of the past!

If you would like to sign a petition requesting a Presidential Pardon, please click on the link below:

https://secure.avaaz.org/en/petition/Free_Eugene_de_Kock/


"We can never justify the past, but we should never forget that he was and still is one of us." -  Dr. Piet Croucamp.

We live, we suffer, we die!


The more I think, the more I read, the more I reflect…the more I realize how very little I know and even that bit that I know is possibly based on incorrect deductive reasoning. Descartes said, “I think, therefore I am”. If thinking makes me a living being, then I am a very ignorant being. I cannot get a grip of the enormous amount of conflicting information there is in the world, let alone get to understand the enormity of the universe or the depth of infinity. My mind is ill-equipped to understand these things. 

What is this thing I call life? What is the reason for being? Why am I born, why do I live and why do I die? What is the purpose of it all? If I experience myself, I am conscious of myself. Since I did not make myself, someone or something more intelligent than I am must have created this body that I experience as mine. Because I experience emotions, someone with emotional experience must have created them in me. If there is love, wisdom and joy, there must be a force that had to have had these qualities in order to produce it in me. There must be an intelligent power behind the creation of our earth and skies, behind the tides, the stars and moon, behind our mountains, rivers and seas. There has to, of necessity, be an original cause of all things and of necessity, be a reason behind it all. I acknowledge the intelligence behind this incredibly beautiful creation of life. Since intelligence would not create anything without a purpose, there has to be a purpose behind this creation. What is that purpose? What is the purpose behind the creation of me?
Why am I not satisfied to just accept what is and live and breathe and eventually die? Why is it that I quest after things mystical and spiritual? Is it because the force behind creation is invisible that I search for the deeper knowledge of the invisible things of the world?
Because my mind is progressive, I have an inherent desire in my consciousness to inquire into the origin of things, into the mystery of life and the purpose of my existence. In the unlearned mind, mysticism is associated with modern mysteries and magic. There is no magic in mysticism. The mystery of my enquiry into life is unanswered and unsolved.
Mysticism represents the highest expression of my truth. The study of mysticism is the study of my truth in its pure and uncontaminated form. It is not a religion but explains the most profound of the religious mysteries. It accepts my truth through analytical observation and cosmic revelation. Mysticism is the essence of my superior thoughts, brings me closer to the natural laws of the universe and removes my fear for the unknown.
Spirituality is my expression of mysticism. The development of my spirituality is the development of my comprehension, understanding and influence over my self and my relationship to the universe. Spirituality gives me greater peace for my mind and soul. It enables me to anticipate the results of my actions and prepares me for it. It accelerates my perceptive faculties and awakens and develops my intuition. Spirituality is a way of life, a way that leads to peace of mind, happiness, health and abundance.
Since the beginning of time, we have acknowledged the powerful, invisible forces that direct and control the universe. Something, or someone, of supreme intelligence must be behind the creation of this universe and it's perfection.  
The forming of the smallest flower in all its perfection, from seed to bloom is a miracle that I cannot emulate. The phenomenon of how the earth rotates around the sun to give us night and day is astronomical in the understanding, let alone in the management thereof. We all know that the moon affects the tides, but I cannot begin to comprehend the intelligence behind the invention of it. The understanding of the human body is so immense that people specialize in only one small part of it, and even then, no man understands everything about that one small part that took him years and years to study. And when I look beyond the world that I live in, there are the stars and planets and galaxies. I cannot even comprehend how much one billion is, let alone comprehend the trillions of stars in the heavens. 


The miracle of life is beyond my understanding when I stand back from my own individual life and look at the workings of the entire cosmos. What amazes me is how the fabric of all this still hangs together!

Friday, October 10, 2014

Operation Dynamite

Operation Dynamite
It was a hot night; summer in South Africa.  

I remember stretching out in my bed, in my short summer pajama’s and feeling grateful for being surrounded by beautiful things; things that I had carefully chosen for my new home.  I was happy and contented. My future looked peaceful with long life ahead of me, filled with infinite possibilities.   I had nothing to fear and all was good in my world.   I fell into a restful sleep, excited about the possibilities of the next day.

I woke with the doorbell ringing incessantly, urgently.  I opened my eyes and saw that it was dawn.  The sun was only just peeping out, the freshness of a new day filling my lungs.  With uninhibited energy, I threw the sheet off my body and jumped out of bed. There was no let-up to the ringing of the doorbell.  I glanced over at the bedside clock.  It was just after 5am. 

My mind was confused.  I did not know who could possibly want me so urgently at this time of the day.  My son had a key to my back door, so it could not be him and the telephone had not rung so I knew that it was not a family member in trouble.  I stumbled down the stairs, not stopping to put on a gown or to cover my half-naked body that the summer sleeping shorts and skimpy top failed to provide.    Now I could hear someone banging on the security fence and gate, the bell still ringing.   I bumped into the coffee table as I moved with as much speed as I could to the sliding front door, and pulled the curtain aside.  My mind was in shock.  Standing around the front security gate was a dozen grim-faced and well-dressed men wearing sunglasses, and a half a dozen vehicles marked with the sign of the most feared police, the Scorpions. 


          "Open up!   This is a search and seizure operation." 


This is the opening paragraph of my new book: Operation Dynamite.  To be released before Xmas. 

Thursday, October 2, 2014

The Texbook of Life

I am the pupil and the teacher. There is no other teacher who is better equipped to teach me than myself. And if I learn well, there is no better pupil than myself. The outside influences, the situations and conditions are the lessons, the textbooks of life. The textbooks are compulsory. I do not have a choice as to what subject I will take or what lesson I will learn. Everyone has a textbook of life. My textbook was written before I was born. I cannot change it. I cannot apply to do another subject. I can do nothing about the textbook I have been given. I have to complete it. But how I learn my lessons, how I interpret my subject, how fast I learn and what knowledge and wisdom I take away from this classroom of life, this is entirely dependent on me. Me, the pupil! Me, the teacher! Life, my lessons!
The textbooks are filled with adversity because it is through adversity, calamity and pain that I am given the opportunity to learn. Not everyone will learn from adversity. I will only learn from adversity if I can overcome it, rise above it and move on with more wisdom, understanding and clarity. If I cannot rise above the adversity, I fail my grade. I stay behind while everyone moves onto the next grade. If I stay behind because I failed my grade, I will have the same lesson again and again, more and more adversity until eventually, I learn to rise above it, pass it and move on.
I think that everyone is given these textbooks on arrival at the earth school. There is not one person who walks this earth who has been given a free ride through the grades of life. I might believe that my textbook is more difficult than another's.
This is not true. I just don’t know how much further they have progressed in their books. They might be a number of chapters ahead of me, or they might be a few pages behind. The only thing that I can be sure of, is that I too have my textbooks from which I have to learn. Because I am part of the universal Soul, of God, I helped set up my own curriculum. I decided, together with God, what lessons I needed to learn before I came here. I think that everyone helped set up their own curricula. They are all of equal difficulty. The difficulty level is determined only by my perception of the work I have to complete.
The lessons are only difficult in the degree of God consciousness I possess. God consciousness is the realization that I am part of God and that God is within me. God can’t fail, therefore I can‘t fail. The more God consciousness I possess, the easier the lessons are. Once I realize that I am dependent on the whole, on God, my textbook will become as easy to read and live as brushing my teeth. I will not even perceive any difficulties in life as lessons. In fact, I will not perceive any difficulties at all. As the co-creator of my life textbook, I know that I am well able to pass because I, myself, helped set up the curriculum.
When I look at others and think that their lives are easier than mine, I am unaware of whether I am acting as the teacher or as the pupil at that point. The idea is, to move between being the teacher and the pupil, as each page and each chapter presents itself to me. As each page is turned, I will first experience the lesson as the student. I will feel the humanness of the situation. I will feel the pain and the anguish. I will bang my head and cry ‘Why me?’ I will rant and rave like the madman in the bible, playing with dead men’s bones, playing with dead ideas in the cemetery of yesterday, tortured by every fear and belief. Then suddenly, I see the lesson behind what has happened. I suddenly find myself in my right mind, sitting at the feet of the Master. Am I the student, the maniac playing with the bones of dead men in the cemetery of yesterday or am I the teacher, in my right mind, sitting at the feet of the Master?
Whether I am the teacher or the pupil is dependent on how I perceive or view what is happening to me. The pupil considers the page of life from an individual and personal point of view. The teacher views it from a global or universal perspective. The pupil looks with human eyes. The teacher looks through the eyes of God. My lessons help me to grow spiritually and mentally, and it is through these lessons that I will create my truth.
My textbooks of life are filled with hardship and tribulations. These are the lessons that are presented to me. When I am the pupil, the hardships and suffering puts me into the Empire of Hell. When I learn how to overcome the difficulties, then I enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Adversity is in the Empire of Hell. Getting out of it and reaching the Kingdom of Heaven is when I have learned through adversity, when the end product is wisdom, compassion, understanding and joy. I will always be my most truthful and trustworthy teacher, and I will always be my own most sincere pupil.
The lessons that I learn in life can come to me in either small or large happenings. Sometimes, it will be one small, possibly insignificant event that will open my spiritual eyes. Other times, the moment of learning, of opening my ‘eyes’ will come after a tremendous emotional or physical devastation, one that takes me through the dark night of the soul. And just when I think there is no reason to go on, another small, insignificant event will lead me out, back into the sunlight. That small event will become a monumental milestone, a spiritual landmark or signpost that I will remember for the rest of my life. That moment will be my re-birth, and that memory will be with me always. For suddenly, my spiritual eyes open and my spiritual ears hear. I perceive life and reality in a completely new way. I begin a new life. I start a new journey that will take me to places I only dreamed about. I find myself, no longer a madman, but in my right mind. I am suddenly lifted up, my burdens are light and I am free, free from fear and lack.







Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Good activists are always in shit!


Why do I always get myself in situations of my choosing that land me in shit? I have been asked that question my whole life. And honestly…it is because I am not afraid to stand up for what I believe in, nor can I turn my back on myself. It would break. 

From a very early age, my father told me that I must have the courage of my convictions and I suppose that has been bred in me and now forms part of my personality or character. I can’t change who I am and I have no desire to change either, because I like who I am today. It has taken a lot of work and a lot of tears to get here, but here I am … landing in the shit again. 

Fear of being labelled, fear of not being accepted, fear of being alienated, fear of retribution … it is fear that stops us from standing up for something. If we can’t stand up for something then we stand up for nothing! It takes courage to stand up for what you believe to be right in the face of strong and emotionally charged hostility. 

Eugene de Kock is not fashionable and not popular. Nelson Mandela is fashionable and popular. If you say anything to brighten the star of Nelson Mandela, you are 99% assured that you will be liked, you will be listened to and you will be accepted. But say something negative about Nelson Mandela and you will become the most unpopular and reviled person. If we replace Nelson Mandela’s name with Eugene de Kock’s name in the above statements, you will be 99% assured that you will be reviled, ostracised, disliked and will become the target for much abuse. 

So, since I have stated that having an opinion is better than having no opinion, I have to add that having an uninformed opinion is worse than not having an opinion at all. Uninformed opinions are the same as rumours. Rumours contain lies and half-truths. Rumours and uninformed opinions fall into the same category. Both activities hurt others. 

We are all of the same race … the human race. We are all connected by many ties, not least of which is that we all breath the same air, live on the same planet and all have the same biological make-up. Just a short little trip into the field of quantum physics and you will be convinced of our human connectedness. And I have learned is that you can’t hurt another without hurting yourself, just as you cannot help another without helping yourself. I prefer to help than to hurt. 

As long as I know that someone out there is in a worse situation to me, I will feel compelled to do something about it. My mission is to continue to speak for those who are unable or cannot, for whatever reason, speak for themselves, as I have done for many years for the neglected children of South Africa. 

While I find myself in the firing line with my opinion on Eugene, I am honoured and blessed to be connecting with some extraordinary human beings. These people have depth of character, have integrity, are wise and filled with compassion and courage. These are my kind of people and I choose to associate with them. If you mix with dogs, you pick up fleas so I guess I am fortunate not to be sitting on the side of those who have uninformed opinions of Eugene. 

Every time I climb onto a plane to fly somewhere, I look around me to see if these are the kinds of people I want to die with. Only once did I sit next to a nun who was saying the Rosary, while she moved her beads through her fingers, and I thought … it will be OK if this plane goes down today because she is sure to get into Heaven! So I am happy to be associated with the name of Eugene de Kock and his supporters on FaceBook : FREE EUGENE DE KOCK.   

To those who want to verbally abuse me, I say “Bring it on”! The more you perform the more people will start remembering Eugene de Kock. 

And … to those who think he should be forgotten and “the key thrown away”… this is for you…an invitation to join us on FaceBook and see what we really stand for. 

Thank you to all those who are supporting Eugene. Obstacles are what we will see if we take our eyes of the goal. No obstacle is insurmountable. 

Would you sign our petition please?   Click on the link.

Live like a Lion ...

Just because I have been trained to do one thing does not mean that I have to continually do that thing for a living. If what I do no longer brings me happiness and joy, or there is no challenge left, or I find that my career has lost its uniqueness
and heart, I can change what I have always done. Jesus was trained to be a carpenter but he became a teacher. 
If my path has lost heart, I find another one.
If I were travelling from London to Bombay and found that I had lost my way, would I still continue along the same road? No! I would stop, find my bearings, read my map and turn around. This is exactly what I should do. If I have lost my way, if I am not busy with my sacred task, not using my talents, then I must stop and turn around. Perhaps the path that I have been on was merely preparation for my real task. I have to go to kindergarten before I can go on to high school. What I have been busy doing was only preparation for what I now have to do. I change direction. I find a new path. I find a path with passion.
The new path I have found is that of writing, of speaking out against the injustice of keeping Eugene de Kock in prison, and of teaching others the healing modalities that I have been practicing for years. I do believe that one cannot help another, unless you have been down a similar path, been in the same boat or walked a little in their shoes. I have been at the rough end of injustice, my voice has been silenced and I live with a life-threatening illness. The old path was one of shutting up, of making sure I did not ruffle anyone’s feathers, of pouring oil on troubled waters, of endless giving to others and putting myself at the bottom of the list. No more … the way I lived my life contributed to this illness and if I contributed to it, I must be able to reverse it by changing my behaviour. My new motto is:
Illegitimi non carborundum


Wherever my consciousness rests, wherever my thoughts are, there lies the infinite possibility of success and abundance. I pursue my dream with all my might. I choose my dream over and over again. Every time I am given a choice, I choose the one in the direction of my dream. When I choose in the direction of my dream, I will of necessity let all other choices go and my old path will be lost. If I do not choose, I will get nothing. I will stay where I am. And, if I do not choose in the direction of my dream, I risk losing the opportunity and chance of doing what I was born to do.
I find the courage to live each day as though it were my last and as though nothing were impossible. An old Chinese proverb says that it is better to live each day as a lion rather than a whole life as a sheep. Is quality not better than quantity? Is it better to stay indoors my whole life in case I get sunburned? Is it not better to live a life of excitement rather than a life of boredom?
I hope I have the courage to live like a lion every day of my life. I want to live a life of excitement and enthusiasm. I now live in the moment and am aware of the unlimited possibilities for my life. I have stopped living like a sheep that needs to be tended by the herdsmen. I have stopped waiting for the golden egg to land in my lap. I stopped waiting for someone else to give me what I want and desire. I have the courage of the lion and go where I want, do what I want, be what I want and have what I want.

Few words from Anchor of my Soul

Anchor of my Soul

It has always been very important for me that I live a worthwhile life.  When I go to sleep at night, I want to know that my day had value, not only for me but at least for one more person.    A day is wasted when I have not made something, achieved something, made someone happy, made a difference in someone’s life, written something and especially not made someone smile. I don’t want to feel that a day in my life has been a waste.  For months and months of illness and an inability to do what I want to do during a day, I have doubted that I am living a worthwhile life.  I have been too ill to really live and I have not done such a good job of dying either, because I am still here.   Living a worthwhile life to me means that every single moment and every hour of the day must have worth.  

Very often, the only people I manage to get to laugh and smile are doctors and nurses.  I don’t feel that is good enough for me.  It is not a feeling of a day well lived.  The key to a successful hospital stay is to keep positive, keep smiling and keep the nurses entertained.  That way, they will be flitting round your bed so you don’t have to have endless waiting for your bell to bring someone to your bedside to help you.  But it is still not a good enough reason for me to know that I lived my day well. 

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Paragraph from 2nd last chapter of Anchor of My Soul

Anchor of my Soul 
Father Leo, the Catholic priest came to visit me.  He told me that there are lots and lots of Catholics in Bloemfontein and that almost every nurse in the ward is a Catholic and that is why he can come and go as he pleases in this ward.   He asked me if I would like the blessing of the sick and of course I said yes.  Insurance…just in case!   
The second time he came to see me, he remembered not only my name, but the answers to all his questions he had put to me the first time he came to give me the blessing of the sick.
          “I am really busy today Dianne.  I have lots of patients to see in a number of hospitals.  Do you want me to say a quick prayer for you?” Father Leo asked me.
          “If you make it quick, that will be great.  Thanks Father”, I responded.
          “Right”, he said, pulling up a chair next to the bed.  “Let’s get on with it then”.  He closed his eyes and began.  “Father, we bring you our sister, Dianne, this morning.  Please can you let her stay down here a little longer?  The world needs activists and I don’t think you need a deputy just yet. Now where did I put the sacrament…?”  He stopped praying while he leaned down, picked up his battered little bag and began scratching around in it.

          “Father, you still praying”, I said, quite astonished by the sudden interruption not only of his prayer and his thoughts, but his actions as well.

          “Now…now…Dianne!   If God has patience with me, don’t you think you could have a little as well?  And by the way, did I mention to you that the story of Job in the Bible is not true.  It is just a parable.  Every person who has studied theology should know that!”


I don’t know where that last sentence came from and what relevance it had to me, but it patience thing and Job shut me up pretty quickly and gave me food for thought for the rest of the day. 

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Halfway through second half of second last chapter : ANCHOR OF MY SOUL !!


About a week after arriving at Medi Clinic, I was sitting and painting on fabric, lost in my own world of thoughts when Dr Fanie came and sat on the bed next to me.  I had been so lost in my thoughts that I was quite shocked to suddenly find a doctor, not standing by my bed, but sitting on my bed.   He put his arm around me.

          “I don’t know how to tell you this.  We have your results back”, he said.

          “Just say it like it is, Dr Fanie”.

          “You are fucked!” he said, giving me another squeeze. 

          “Really fucked?”

          “Really fucked!  Mada (Dr Ferreira) sent all your blood work to the Pretoria Research Lab, but I don’t understand enough about it, so she is coming to see you and will explain it all to you”.

          “Is there a cure?” I asked.

          “No, you got this for life.  You are clinically ill”, he said, giving me yet another squeeze around my shoulders.

When he left, I sat there thinking about what he had said.  At least I was not mental, insane, faking, lying or a drug addict.  There was some comfort in that.  I thought about asking him for a letter to give to my family and then again, that stubborn part of me thought, ‘Fuck them!’

About a half hour later, Dr Ferreira arrived, pulled up a chair and sat down next to my bed.   She also started with the same words.

          “I don’t know how to tell you this, Dianne”.

          “You can say it like it is Dr Mada.  Dr Fanie has already told me I am fucked”, I replied.

          “Ja, jy is ‘n bietjie gefok”, she said.   She leaned over and showed me a wad of papers with all kinds of blood results, most of which made absolutely no sense to me.   “You have Primary Mannin Binding Lectin Deficiency and Secondary Humeral Deficiency”, she said.

          “How do you spell those things?” I asked.   I could not even repeat them, let alone spell them.   Words like these can now roll off my tongue as though I am a specialist haematologist, surprising doctors and nurses no end.   I wrote them down as she spelt them for me.   “What exactly does that all mean”, I asked.

          “Well, it means that you have a serious immune deficiency and you are susceptible to every infection that goes around.  Because these are primary and secondary, it means that there is no way that we can boost your immune system.  You may have inherited this condition, but we are not sure.  You don’t have the building blocks for the immune system” she explained.

          “Is there a cure?” I asked again.  I was forever chasing the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.  I just could not accept a 'no cure' verdict. 


          She shook her head.  “I am sorry. There is no cure.  You will have to be treated with Polygam every two weeks for the rest of your life, and you will have to have prophylactic antibiotics.  This will not cure you, but it will extend your life.  I am sorry”, she said, putting her hand onto mine and giving it a squeeze.