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Worksheet: From Nelson Mandela's autobiography, Long Walk to Freedom
(Extract 2)
Usually the boys played among themselves, but we sometimes allowed
our sisters to join us. Boys and girls would play games like ndize
(hide-and-seek) and icekwa (touch and run). But the game
I most enjoyed playing with the girls was what we called khetha,
or choose-the-one-you-like. This was not so much an organised game,
but a spur-of-the-moment sport that took place when we accosted
a group of girls our own age and demanded that each select the boy
she loved. Our rules dictated that the girl's choice be respected
and once she had chosen her favourite, she was free to continue
on her journey escorted by the lucky boy she loved. But the girls
were far cleverer than us and would often confer among themselves
and choose one boy, usually the plainest fellow, and then tease
him all the way home.
The most popular game for boys was thinti, and like most
boys' games it was a youthful approximation of war. Two sticks,
used as targets, would be driven firmly into the ground in an upright
position about one hundred feet apart. The goal of the game was
for each team to hurl sticks at the opposing target and knock it
down.
We each defended our own target and attempted to prevent the other
side from retrieving the sticks that had been thrown. As we grew
older, we organised matches against boys from neighbouring villages,
and those who distinguished themselves in these battles were greatly
admired.
After games such as these, I would return to my mother's kraal
where she was preparing supper. Whereas my father once told stories
of historic battles and heroic Xhosa warriors, my mother would enchant
us with Xhosa legends and fables that had come down from numberless
generations. These tales stimulated my childish imagination, and
usually contained some moral lesson. I recall one story my mother
told us about a traveller who was approached by an old woman with
terrible cataracts on her eyes. The woman asked the traveller for
help, and the man averted his eyes. Then another man came along
and was approached by the old woman. She asked him to clean her
eyes, and even though he found the task unpleasant, he did as she
asked. Then, miraculously, the scales fell from the old woman's
eyes and she became young and beautiful. The man married her and
became wealthy. It is a simple tale, but its message is an enduring
one: virtue and generosity will be rewarded in ways that one cannot
know.
On the first day of school, my teacher gave each of us an English
name and said that from then on that was the name we would answer
to in school. This was the custom among Africans in those days and
was undoubtedly due to the British bias of our education. That day
the teacher told me that my new name was Nelson. Why this particular
name was bestowed on me I have no idea. Perhaps it had something
to do with the great British sea captain Lord Nelson, but that would
only be a guess.
Lesson plan: Facts about me |
Lesson plan: Pupils' own biographies
From the Nelson Mandela online resource
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