The story of a 17 year old meeting Bishop Tutu. 1979. South Africa was in a mess. The heyday of Apartheid. As a young student in my first year at Varisty, (University of Pretoria), we needed voices to speak up to show the country out of the impasse. My psychologist father taught me to be inquisitive and curious about alternatives, to respect all people, and to talk to people, and not only about them, or behind their backs. I joined the SRC (Student Representative Council) committee (called Forum) that stimulates debate and invites high profile speakers to our campus. We needed more than one voice, because the voices showing the way to the future were contradicting each other. And a uniting factor. More than 70% of South Africans rate themselves in censuses as Christian. Therefore the church had an obvious task to play to show the way forward. Some politicians were in jail. As a church leader you had some freedom to speak. But even Christian leaders differed greatly on the way forward and their role to play. Therefore I suggested that we invite 4 theologians for a simposium on the Campus of the University of Pretoria: Bishop Desmond Tutu, Prof Jimmy Loader, Prof Carel Boshoff, and Rev Frans O'Brian Geldenhuys (Head of Ecumenical Relationships of the Dutch Reformed Church). My suggestion was approved by Mattie Kruger SRC member for the Forum committee. Now I had to invite them. The latter 3 invitations was easy, but for Bishop Tutu, I had to drive with an invitation letter in the hand to Johannesburg to Khotso House, the Head Office of the SACC (South African Council of Churches) where he was the General Secretary. Problem was: I didn't have a a driver's licence, but I anyway booked out a SRC Volkwagen Combi, to drive to Johannesburg. The gears were difficult - I could only get it as far as 2nd gear, so I drove in 2nd gear the 60 kms to Khotso House. The second problem was that I could barely speak English. So I took a friend of mine, Irmela Aab, along who was proficient in English. We arrived unannounced, and I asked if we could see Bishop Tutu (in broken English - my friend Irmela helped me out). His secretary obviously asked whether we had an appointment, and because we didn't have one, the reply was: No, not possible. I said that we just wanted to deliver a letter of invitation. She said she would give it to him. I said No.(fearing the the letter would disappear between a heap of other letters). I said that I would wait to give it to him personally when he came out between two appointments (obviously with Irmela correcting me where necessary). The secretary saw our resolve and said we could wait. We were standing outside his office for almost 30 minutes. I remember vividly the poster on his office door: A poster of a big desk with a smug guerilla sitting behind the desk, smoking a cigar, with the inscription on the desk: The Boss is in. Later in life I realised bishop Tutu had a great and unique sense of humour. When he came out, he greeted his guest, and we quickly stepped forward to hand over the invitation. His joy and friendly personalty was immediately evident, and he said he would give the invition his consideration. You can imagine the joy when weeks later we received his letter of acceptence. But there was a further problem. I had to ask permision from the university authorities to invite a black speaker. I had to fill in forms in triplicate to motivate why I wanted to invite a black speaker, and is there not a white speaker available to fill the role?! Thankfully they approved since the invitation was already accepted. When he spoke during the simposium, it was the first time he set foot on the campus of the University of Pretoria.
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