Adjunkspeaker, namens die DA, ons innige simpatie aan die familie en vriende van Mavis Magazi en ook die moederorganisasie, die ANC, waar sy vir soveel jare gedien het. Die agb hoofsweep van die ANC het mooi netjies uiteengesit waar sy oral betrokke was.
Ek is oortuig daarvan dat ons mekaar se huislike nie geken het nie. Ons het hier in die komitee saamgewerk en, soos u almal weet, is die kontak wat 'n mens daagliks met mekaar het maar kort en saaklik. Dit gaan alles oor die werk wat in die komitee afgehandel moet word, maar ons vertrou dat diegene daar by haar huis, haar kinders en die res van haar familie, deur ons Hemelse Vader gekoester sal word en dat hulle in die dae wat kom weer gelukkig sal wees. Ek weet dit is verskriklik moeilik om onder hierdie omstandighede enigsins gelukkig te kan voel. (Translation of Afrikaans paragraphs follows.)
[Mr N J VAN DEN BERG: Deputy Speaker, on behalf of the DA, I offer our deepest sympathy to the family and friends of Mavis Magazi, as well as the mother organisation, the ANC, which she had served for so many years. The hon Chief Whip of the ANC has clearly indicated all the areas where she had been involved.
I am convinced that we did not know what each other's domestic circumstances were. We worked together here in the committee, and, as you all know, the daily contact we have with one another is brief and to the point. It is all about the work that needs to be finalised in the committee, but we trust that those at her home, her children and the rest of her family, will be cherished by our Heavenly Father and that they will be happy again in the days to come. I know it is incredibly difficult to feel happy at all under these circumstances.]
May God help you during these terrible days, and don't be shy to cry.
Om te huil en smart te toon het helende eienskappe. Dit is 'n wonderlike balsem vir die siel. Dit help die geliefdes wat agterbly en moet aangaan met hul lewens om te genees. 'n Wond wat nie 'n rofie maak nie, word nie gesond nie. Dit bly 'n oop, smetterige wond. Dit word nie gesond nie; dit word later gangreen wat 'n mens net sieker en sieker maak tot jy later nie meer kan nie.
Een van die Afrikaanse sangers, Robbie Wessels, vra in een van sy liedjies: "Hoe plak jy 'n pleister op 'n siel?" Huil is 'n pleister vir die siel. Huil proe mos so souterig. Dis die helende eienskappe wat die siel heel maak. Moet nooit smart wegsteek en koester nie. Ons vertrou ook dat die familie en vriende van Ntsiki, soos ons haar geken het, goed versorg sal wees deur die familie. Ek weet die agb Ma Storey was baie lief vir Ntsiki, en ek het vandag ook by die huldigingsdiens gesien dat Ma Storey daar by die kinders sit. Ek dink sy is 'n ware ouma, ook vir die kinders van Ntsiki. Dankie dat u ook so naby aan hulle is om hulle ook te versorg en hul trane af te droog. (Translation of Afrikaans paragraphs follows.)
[Crying and showing sorrow hold healing qualities. It is a wonderful ointment for the soul. It helps to heal the loved ones who are left behind and have to continue with their lives. A wound that does not form a scab does not heal. It remains an open, festering wound. It does not heal; it later turns into gangrene, making you even more ill, until eventually you cannot go on anymore.
One of the Afrikaans singers, Robbie Wessels, asks in one of his songs: "Hoe plak jy 'n pleister op 'n siel?" Crying is a plaster for the soul. Crying has a salty taste to it. That's the healing qualities that heal the soul. Never hide and harbour sorrow. We also trust that the family and friends of Ntsiki, as she was known to us, will be well taken care of by the family. I know that the hon Ma Storey loved Ntsiki very much, and today at the memorial service I also saw that Ma Storey was sitting close to the children. I think she is a grandmother in the true sense of the word, also to Ntsiki's children. Thank you for being so close to them so that you can also take care of them and dry their tears.]
I have known Ntsiki, as she was fondly known among friends, since the Fourth Parliament of the Republic of South Africa. I think the biggest compliment you can give someone after his or her death is to say that he or she was a good person. Simple words - but I think we can say this of Ntsiki. She was a good person, a good mother for her children, a good family member and, if you listen to all her accomplishments during her life, she was a good person in her community and in the ANC Women's League. Everywhere she worked, she was a hard worker, and she was very dedicated. That I saw in the committee meetings.
Sy was 'n wonderlike, liefdevolle omgeemens, 'n versorgende mens wat aandag aan die sielheil van haar medemens gegee het. Dit was agb Ntsiki Magazi. [She was a wonderful, loving, caring person, a caregiving person who tended to the spiritual welfare of her fellow human beings. This was hon Ntsiki Magazi.]
Ntsiki always had problems with my name, Niekie van den Berg. I'll miss her broad smile in the committee meetings, and she always greeted me as "Niekie van die Berge" - coming from the "berge" [mountains]. Maybe it is my hairy face that reminded her of some or other animal, I'm not sure, but I was "Niekie van die Berge". [Laughter.] Then she would smile as broadly as you can imagine. To all my ANC colleagues in our committee, we, and especially hon Storey Morutoa, will all miss Ntsiki's slowly formulated questions. I know you were very close, and Ma Storey, you are the "ouma" of our committee. Sometimes when I drove along the N1, I would hear the hooter of a motor, and then it would be Ntsiki and Storey in Ntsiki's white Polo. Then they would be waving and making big fun of it. It was always nice to see them.
Helaas, Ntsiki is dood, en ons wat hier sit, lewe - almal van ons wat hier sit. Die dood het ook 'n ander voordeel: dit herinner ons aan ons eie verganklikheid. Hier is net 'n fragment uit die oeuvre van die Afrikaanse digter N P Van Wyk Louw se Ballade van die Bose:
Wanneer jy wil vlug uit die stad wat brand, dan vlug ek saam soos 'n vrou aan jou hand.
Die veles meen hulle ken my gesig, maar ek skuil te glansryk, te na aan die lig, en as hul wil waarsku en wysheid gee, dan praat ek reeds in die woordklank mee ... ... Ek is in jou gevleg, gerank soos 'n wortel in die donker bank, en van voor die daeraad se blank begin straal ek by albei jou o in ...
... Ek is jou wese se ondergrond en ek trap in jou spoor soos 'n goeie hond.
Hierdie is slegs enkele fragmente uit Ballade van die Bose deur N P Van Wyk Louw. Die werklikheid is dat die dood op my en jou spoor is. Leef mooi. (Translation of Afrikaans paragraphs follows.)
[Alas, Ntsiki is dead, and those of us sitting here are alive - all of us sitting here. Death also has another benefit: it reminds us of our own mortality. Here is just a fragment from the oeuvre of the Afrikaans poet N P Van Wyk Louw, Ballade van die Bose:
Wanneer jy wil vlug uit die stad wat brand, dan vlug ek saam soos 'n vrou aan jou hand.
Die veles meen hulle ken my gesig, maar ek skuil te glansryk, te na aan die lig, en as hul wil waarsku en wysheid gee, dan praat ek reeds in die woordklank mee ...
... Ek is in jou gevleg, gerank soos 'n wortel in die donker bank, en van voor die daeraad se blank begin straal ek by albei jou o in ...
... Ek is jou wese se ondergrond en ek trap in jou spoor soos 'n goeie hond.
These are only some fragments from Ballade van die Bose by N P Van Wyk Louw. The reality is that death is treading upon my heels and yours. Live well.]
Ntsiki, I salute you. I thank you. [Applause.]