Amandla!

Tonight, I watched Amandla! again, this time with Ryan, as he hadn’t seen it before. Though I’m the type who usually doesn’t like watching a movie so much as twice, this must’ve been at least the fifth time I’ve seen this movie—I really can’t get enough of it. Every time it touches me, and every time it leaves me with that sense of urgency to act.

One of the parts of the film that most got me thinking tonight was when they talked about the MK, the militant arm of the ANC and the anti-apartheid movement in the 70s and 80s. It reminded me of my only personal memory of apartheid: when I was about 8 or 9, I remember seeing a photo in the newspaper at home of a Zulu rebel on the ground in an urban street, in the midst of an attack. I remember asking my parents what was going on in the photo, and they said that there was fighting in South Africa, and that it was sad because there were people dying on both sides. I didn’t really understand the context—all I understood was that people were fighting each other in South Africa and that people were dying. As I remembered that and watched the film, I wondered if I would have fought for the MK, in those circumstances and at that time. To be honest, I don’t know—I know I would have done something, but I don’t know if I would have become militant. I hope that I wouldn’t—that I would be able to focus myself and my energies in non-violent protest and not fall into eye-for-an-eye logic. But that’s a lot easier said than done when your friends and loved ones are dying.