While on Robben Island, Indian and colored prisoners had a slightly better diet with more meat. The African prisoners protested that the diet should be the same, but the Indian and colored prisoners were concerned that their diet would be worsened in the interest of a “false equality”.
At this time, his eldest son was killed in a car crash; Winnie was under constant threat, ANC was in exile and the Apartheid government had consolidated its power, for Mandela it was time to plant a garden, the Authorities were suspicious, he explained that he wanted to supplement his diet and that of his colleagues with fresh vegetables, letters went back and forth within the Prison bureaucracy, Memos were written. Lawyers were consulted, finally in the dirt courtyard just in front of the rows of prisoners’ cells, guards were positioned to watch him dig and plant.
Although, the soil was not very good but he managed to produce some good harvests, at first he used his hands, but soon he acquired some tools, he asked family and friends to send him seeds.
While other men were playing checkers or reading or talking in the courtyard, Mandela tended his garden. He grew tomatoes, onions, chilies, spinach; he gave the vegetables to the kitchen. Of course the protests between Indians, colored and African prisoners stopped.
Mandela began to write about his garden in letters to Winnie and others. He related how his plants and vegetables were doing as if they were his own children. He talked about the seasons and the soil and his harvest. Soon Mandela would give vegetables to the guards for their families and they were supplying him with seeds. Before long, he was allowed to plant a second garden outside the courtyard
On Robben Island there were few pleasures, Mandela’s garden had become his private island, it quieted his mind. It distracted him from his constant worries about the outside world, his family, and the freedom struggle. While so much was withering outside, his garden was thriving, he got lost in it, and he loved his garden. I used to supply the whole kitchen staff at Pollsmoor Prison with spinach every Sunday, Mandela will later proudly say, years after his release.
In a world where he had no privacy and very few possessions, that defied and punished him, that seemed hostile to his values and his dreams, he made it a place of beauty and regularity and renewal. Although there was nothing he could do about the meat aspect of the protest, his effort was rewarded. The seasons changed in regular order. Seeds turned into plants, stalks rose. Leaves sprouted.That way; he was able to do his main work. Instead of the prison becoming a place of retreat it became a place of renewal.
His life was in service to others, and the garden was a respite from the turmoil and the storms of the world.( An excerpt from “Nelson Mandela’ Way”).
In living for others, he acquired peace from the storm that raged in his world, and that kept him going for 27 years, he emerged from Prison neither beaten nor bartered but better, stronger and victoriously celebrated, like shoes on the feet of the Almighty, our reason for existence is expressed when we are worn by HIM, only then are we admired and appreciated by others, only then is our beauty seen, only then is our purpose fulfilled. Like “Pencils in the hands of the Almighty”, we begin to write exceptional stories, effect outstanding change, excel extra ordinarily in the field wherewith HE has called us, but first we must belong to HIM, live for HIM, then HE will pick us, beautify and use us for the purpose for which HE created us. Live a life of service! Think Purpose!
Olabisi Abimbola
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