The first time I met Dr Tshepo Motsepe, we were sitting together at an event where former President Mbeki and I were scheduled to speak about the importance of encouraging South Africans abroad to return home to build the country. I was suffering from a cold and sneezing uncomfortably. A highly qualified doctor, she texted her driver a prescription for me and before long I just saw medicine being delivered. I have seen her a few times since in different circumstances and each time I left with one impression of a kind, caring and nurturing human. A mother.
When I see the regrettably unAfrican social media critique of her at 71, I wondered what happened to us. Our humanity and culture.
Looking at our own mothers, at 71, many would have lost a step or syllable or two, and have wrinkles that merit the journeys they have travelled: Raising children and communities. Building careers and families. All the while being underestimated; taken for granted; earning less while doing the most; being abused and used; walked all over and not appreciated.
Despite our best efforts, we can't dictate what nature serves us. Certainly, I don't know where or how most of our grandmothers, mothers, sisters or aunts would look like at 71. Or how anyone of us would. But I sure hope and pray I would be as dignified, qualified and respected as Dr. Tshepo Motsepe is in her field and society.
She has bothered no one. Has never been in the papers for the wrong things. Never sought the limelight or approval of public. And obviously hasn't resorted to the short-cuts most of us take with botox, bleaching, BBL, weaves, and the likes that seek to defy or redefine nature.
She is like most of our mothers, and just happens to be in the public eye because she married the most public of figures, the President of the Republic, Cyril Ramaphosa. She deserves the respect and adulation we pay our mothers and women like her who have carved their own paths and successes. Unless what we are reflecting in these social media streets is how we treat our own mothers.