TRIBUTE TO DAVID MATSHITSE Siile Matela Having received with deep sorrow, the news of his death, it is time

for me to bi d a fond farewell to David Matshitse, my dearest friend and a man about whom Wil liam Shakespeare must have thought when he wrote; All the world is a stage And all men and women merely players, They have their entrances and exits And each man in his lifetime plays many parts With his majestic entrance on the world stage many years ago now a historical fo otnote, David made his untimely and unexpected on 29 January 2012. We are all de eply saddened by his death. Such was his untimely departure that we can do no mo re than find solace in Michael Jackson's hauntingly beautiful song; Gone Too So on. Sang the King of Pop: Like a comet blazing 'cross the evening sky Gone too soon.... Like a perfect flower That is just beyond your reach Gone too soon'! Born to amuse, to inspire, to delight Here one day Gone one night Like a sunset dying with the rising of the moon Gone too soon Gone too soon But who was David Matshitse and what have we got to do with him? May you please indulge me as I take you back in time? Two score and seven years ago, David arrived at Ithabeleng Senior Second ary School bearing the letters M.A behind his name. For one so young to hold a d egree of Master in Arts from a US university was for me an inspiring feat. Yet, such was his humility that he promptly told us that under his tutelage, we would go on to achieve more as it is every generation's duty to do better than the on e before it. From that day on, I learnt that there are no limitations to the min d except the ones we impose on it. And so began our quest for university and pro fessional education. With his wit, he cajoled and implored us to read as much as we could as he knew of no one who had died from reading. At his special instanc e, I was soon assigned to assist in the school library. I was immediately christ ened the school's leading bookworm. When the time for university arrived, he sta yed involved and would often drop me at the University of the Witwatersrand, Joh annesburg following holidays. On the occasion of my marriage and return to Johan nesburg it was David who drove my wife and I to our new matrimonial home. It is no exaggeration to say that David was much more than a teacher to me. He was a b rother and a friend. His love of the English language was unprecedented. I recall the day he ha d a brush with the Wesselsbron traffic police. When he first arrived he drove a VW Passat with what was then a Transvaal number plate. Transvaal number plates w ere viewed with suspicion then. And so it came to pass that they stopped him. No sooner had he been stopped than he tried to explain himself in his customary so ft spoken eloquence. As he did so, the traffic officer looked at his colleague a nd uttered; " Kyk, die koning van Engeland is hier". Rather than say; "If I am the King of England, you must be a very rude subject indeed", he simpl y smiled and retorted that he would soon be the King of the Afrikaners as well.

That ladies and gentlemen was the David Matshitse I knew. Ours was a cross gener ational friendship built on mutual respect and bibliomania. For we loved books a nd, dare I say, books loved us. When Abraham Lincoln said 'My best friend is the man who will give me the book I ain't read' , he must have had us in mind Following his holiday in Cape Town a while ago, he was rejuvenated and said that it was the best thing that had happened to him. Year after year his mission was to do better than he had previously done. That is the lesson for us all; never to rest on our laurels. Although not infallible, the David I knew touched many l ives. My family and I are privileged to have made an acquaintance with him. We t hank his loved ones, friends, brothers and sisters for sharing the gift that was him with us the world. We will cherish the memories of our time with him foreve r. He might have left the world of the living but we caution death not to be pro ud. In the words of John Donne; Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe ****************************** *****************