The eulogy by Mashadi Mathosa on the occasion of Ben Harris’
funeral on the 20th of February 2020 at the family plot in
GaRamongoana, Moletji, Polokwane.
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| Maisha Mathosa laying his Oupa's grave marker |
My name is Mashadi. I have been given the great privilege to
address you today in tribute to our Oupa. Usually when I meet people and they
discover that I have a connection to Oupa they ask “Which one is your daddy?” and
when I tell them, they say “Oh the tall; handsome one from Turfloop.” I am Willy Mathosa’ s daughter.
All people are special. But some are more special than
others. Once in a while, God gives us a person who becomes the symbol of an era.
They define a time in history. These people live a life so extraordinary, so magnificent,
and so powerful that we can only consider ourselves blessed for having been in
their presence. Benedict Harris was a
man fit for this description.
Oupa’s life was destined to be a tale of survival from the
day of his birth. It was not “cute” to be born as a person of mixed parentage
in 1931. In fact, it was illegal. From the day, he was born, Oupa had to fight
to live.
Growing up, Oupa had to constantly deal with the condition of
being colored having had a black mommy and a white father. Imagine living in a
world where nobody, nobody looks like you.
Oupa grew up at a Dutch mission and Dutch was the only
language he could speak. So, naturally
he was taken to the mission school there, but, he was not allowed to get in. The
white teachers locked him out and said “Ons soek nie hotnotte nie” (We don’t want Hottentots) . I asked him once, Oupa, what did you think
you were? And he said “My baby, I
thought I was a person.”
Oupa, was also mocked and rejected by black people. The black
people would call him “Amper Bass” (This
is a derogatory term to describe children born from black and white parents. ‘Bass’
is the Afrikaans word for a white male boss. Amper the Afrikaans word for
almost. The term then loosely translated means ‘almost boss’). When he cried to his mother she said “Don’t
worry one day you are going to be a boss and you are going to give them jobs”
And he did.
With all this Oupa did not resent anyone. He embraced all
people. In fact, Oupa would say, we are all mixed blood. If your mother is
Shangaan and your father is Venda, then you are coloured. This was Oupa’s
stance because he knew that there is only one race and that is the human race.
I mentioned earlier that Oupa’s story is a tale of
survival. He was named Harry Moloto but
lived his life as Ben Harris. (By the way, Oupa had another name in between but
he said I must never tell you). When
Oupa arrived in Johannesburg he could not use the name Harry Moloto because he
was classified as coloured. Oupa then took his name Harry and turned it into a
surname -Harris. Then he took his
baptismal name Benedict and turned it into his name-Ben. And thus…Ben Harris was born. I do not think
it repugnant to say that Harris was a self-made man.
Oupa was a very consistent person. He lived his life like
clockwork. He followed the same routine
for years.
Sunday: Anglican Church on Biccard Street
Monday: Labour Conflicts at the Transport Office
Tuesday: Karoo-Osh
Auction along the N1
Wednesday: The farm at Mara Buysdorp
Oupa was loyal to his routine. This made him reliable. You
could predict his whereabouts with absolute certainty.
We see the theme of consistency manifest itself in the way
Oupa did business. Oupa had entrepreneurial prowess. Oupa was a beast in
business. He had the respect of everyone who met him in business.
Oupa went to auction every Tuesdays. My brother, Maisha spent
many Tuesdays there with Oupa and I now quote my brother “Oupa sat in the same
place every time. And he sat as what he was. He sat between the whites and the
blacks. I always sat next to Oupa. He had secret signals with Hawick the auctioneer
and remember he started the auction with Hawick’s dad. You could never see when
Oupa bid for cattle. If people did not bid the right price for his cattle he
would say “Hulle ken die pad huis toe” (They know their way home) There were no more auctions of late. But
when Oupa passed on the auctions opened again. Sister, Maybe Oupa asked God to open them for us.”
Oupa was brave. He was not afraid to venture into different
things. Ben Harris started Hamba Buya Tours, the Westernburg Café, the
butchery, the filling station, and the farms. It is decades later and they are
all still running. CONSISTENCY!
We do not have a word in English or any other language for
that matter to describe what a hard
worker Oupa was. Oupa worked himself to
the bone and no work was above or below him.
Oupa never instructed anyone to do a job that he couldn’t do
himself. He could service a car, dig a
borehole, drive a bus and then write a letter for Nelson Mandela’s release from
prison. Oupa never went on leave and
never had a plan for retirement.
If there is one thing Oupa hated, its indolence. Laziness. There are people who came face to face with
Oupa’s sjambok because of this. He wanted everyone to work hard and to be self-sufficient.
Oupa was a generous person. In big ways and in small ways.
When you came to see him, after the greeting he would ask if you’d had
something to eat. This I reckon is an
attribute he got from Ouma, Elizabeth Harris, his late wife. He founded a home
for his people, gave them refuge in his house, he built a school for them, he
buried many people even strangers (one of them lies in this very cemetery; Oupa
never met him but he buried him) , he donated cattle, bags of maize but also
,Oupa gave us his time. Once there was a drought here in Romongoana, there was
no water for the cattle, Oupa was so worried, so he made a water connection so
that the locals could bring their cattle to drink. He didn’t ask for a cent.
See, Oupa loved a
few things, but his favorite was a cow.
Oupa loved cattle. His mind was on the busses and the shops but his
heart was on the farm, near cattle, and
a Brahman for that matter.
Oupa also dabbled fashion. It was the Ben Harris style. It was
a timeless collection of khakis and a veld sun hat. One day we found Oupa dressed
in a blue police shirt, complete with epaulets, the only thing he did not have
was a badge. He told us that someone gave him the shirt, and that it was still
strong and mostly that he looked smart in it. Oupa was careful with his things
and he didn’t like waste. His simple
clothes and aged vehicles were a sign of his humility. Oupa even ate caterpillars (Mopani worms) and he enjoyed them. Oupa was humble and
approachable, with his hair slipped back with water, and a pen and diary in his
breast pocket, he looked like the man next door. If you knew nothing about him,
you wouldn’t guess that he was a man of such high caliber .
Ben Harris was a story teller par excellence and an
immaculate custodian of our history.
Oupa was sharp. He never forgot a thing. He had a great sense of humor
and told many jokes. Some of them were not for children under the age of 13.
Oupa loved people. He always wanted to spend quality time
with us – all of us seated here. He
would say “You people must come to see me; all my friends are gone”. Oupa loved
his family, his friends and neighbors. He attended as many events as he could
to offer his support and he usually insisted on speaking at events. See, Oupa
loved people, and where he couldn’t inspire them by doing he inspired them by
his words and this he did until he could no longer hold the microphone. Oupa spoke about education, discipline,
corporal punishment, corruption, hard work and among his greatest laments was that
the government should give the schools
back to the church.
Oupa was a Christian, a God fearing Anglican man who helped
many churches and religious communities including the St. Benedict Sisters of
the Catholic Church. The congregation
that gave him his name. The Motto of St.
Benedict is, Ora et Labora, Pray and Work, he is the patron saint for
Farmers. Is this coincidence? I don’t
think so.
Oupa loved all his children, especially the grandchildren. Oupa was besotted with his grandchildren. You could not get passed
Oupa without a hug and a kiss. Oupa would have done anything for us. There are times when we disappointed Oupa and
broke his heart. But Oupa never gave up on us. Oupa gave us chance after chance
to become great men and women.
Oupa,
Thank you for making us.
Thank you for showing us who we are.
You fought for us and worked for us.
Now, we are thoroughbred Harris Bulls.
We carry your blood Oupa and it is the blood of champions.
You taught us love and compassion
Empathy, tenacity and perseverance.
Oupa, you did not wait for the world to tell you who
are.
Your defined yourself and chartered the course of your life.
You are one of a kind.
A thought leader,
You are a pioneer Oupa, a game changer.
Oupa for a man for all seasons.
Look at yourself now Harry Moloto.
You are Ben Harris.
You, are a king.
I feel at peace today, because I know that my Oupa’s work was
done. I know this because if Oupa was not finished he would have simply said to
God, “Man wait a little , we are still working here.”
Bye, bye Oupa.
