Time (A tribute to Mandy Rossouw)

This past week has certainly been a trying one, I thought to myself an hour or so ago when I dotted my final full-stop and saved my English essay on Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness. It was due this passed Friday morning, but I talked my way to an extension. I needed more time; more time to sleep, to heal my nerves. Time is what I sorely needed, and yet I wasted it on long nights spent inebriatedly wandering the streets of Grahamstown among students celebrating an Irish saint whose patronage very few even know. St Paddy's day ... A waste of time. Time which could have been spent following the news. Time which is so precious, and yet is taken for granted. Time Mandy Rossouw ran out of; but used well. I never got to meet her, but I revered her from my pre-journalist days. Hers was a name I heard many a time on the radio while stuck in the traffic after school before I grew to care for politics; her tweets kept me updated on matters for which I had to care and her craft inspired me to want to be great too. To accomplish so much at such a young age is not only admirable, but extremely inspiring. In time, I will walk in her footsteps and become a journalist South Africa can be proud of; though her legacy will hang over me, immortal, unforgettable, infinite.

Here is to an amazing journalist; may we all live to be as lucky to be honest people in a vile trade!

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