Meeting Mandela

Susan Pitter remembers the day Mr Mandela visited Leeds in 2001.

"Daybreak on Monday 30th April 2001 and I’ve been awake for hours – too early to get ready for the day ahead and impossible to sleep, with the same feeling I had waiting for Christmas as a child. It was the day that Nelson Mandela came to town - and I was going to meet him.

The day holds special memories. It’s a little clichéd to say that the whole experience was surreal but it really was.

As Lady Mayoress, I joined the Council’s executives and politicians, some not so incognito security services, and diplomatic staff outside the Civic Hall, to await his arrival with a mix of nerves and excitement.

I remember thinking how tall he was as he emerged from the car - when I swear the sun came out. I could neither breathe nor stop smiling. And then, as we were introduced, the enormity hit me. This was the man whose name was attached to the youth centre I went to as a youngster, who spearheaded the reason why South African goods were banned from our home; the man who was loved and respected across the world, who had suffered unimaginable horror in the name of justice. But for some reason what also came to mind were my late mother and adored grandparents.

As he took my hand I heard myself say “Welcome Tata” – the South African term for ‘father’ that the Leeds United and South African football team captain Lucas Radebe who was also there had told me. I thought maybe Mr. Mandela’s smile grew at that moment but what I did not imagine was the extra squeeze of my hand.

Among the day’s stand out moments are the Council staff hanging from office windows cheering as he looked up and waved at them with that smile; and how he insisted on stopping to shake hands with the porters and waitresses on duty.

People often ask what he said to me. Some of what we exchanged I hold too precious to share, but there are two moments that floored me. After his Council Chamber speech (when he charmed everyone by saying he was an unemployed pensioner with a criminal record) a few of us went into the Banquet Hall so he could view his name inscribed on the walls. He stopped and asked me “Do you mind if I hold onto you as we walk?” I flashed back to walking arm in arm with my frail and ailing grandmother in Jamaica during the only time we spent together. When tears almost won my battle for composure and the cruelty of his separation from his family hit home.

Leaving for Millennium Square where thousands met his stage entrance with a joyous roar - he was told that I was the city’s first Black Lady Mayoress. He turned, looked me in the eye and told me how proud he was of me. Thirteen years on I still struggle to grasp that this man, who had been through so much, above and beyond any call of any duty could say that HE was proud of ME. Later on, one of his aides took me to one side and said “Madiba wants you to have this.” Nelson Mandela had signed the day’s official programme for me. Needless to say, it is a treasured possession.

We left Millennium Square on a high, full of joy inspired by a super-human who bestowed a global gift of tolerance, forgiveness and respect. It is the day the word celebrity lost its meaning for me. It is a day that ended how it started, with sleeplessness. But above all it is a day I will cherish always."