There are torrents raging against Democracy

'I have discovered a secret that climbing a great hill, one finds that, there are many more hills to climb. I have taken a moment here to rest, to steal a view of the glorious vista that surrounds me, to look back on the distance I have come. But I can rest only for a moment...'Nelson Mandela-The Long Walk to Freedom. 

  I love hiking through mountains. You have to stay concentrated. For hiking is about edges and staring down precipices. What did Hillary say when asked why he climbed Mount Everest? 'Because it is there' if I remember correctly. Spare a thought for Tenzing the Sherpa who shepherded him into the history books. I was there not long ago. In the Himalayas. Huge logs tied together with rope had been thrown across the river. It was a crossing place of sorts, the rushing torrent below providing a dramatic undercurrent to our passage. The Sherpas with huge packs daintily skipped to the other side. I got about halfway. Then the shakes came. But there was no going back. It is moments like this that you find yourself. Either in the swift torrent or on the other side. 

  The Sherpas gave me toothy smiles as I took the last step. 

  And then a few weeks ago, I was in the highlands of Scotland, hiking to Steall Waterfall in Glen Nevis. The walk upwards through birch and ash hugged a gorge whose force had formed Henry Moore-like rocks, with deliciously tempting pools. Nearing the falls, another bridge over a river. No ordinary bridge, a single metal cable. I had recently been feeling a lack of confidence, and looking now at this rope bridge, I wasn't sure I could make it. I watched a few others start, then inch their way backwards, too shaky to make it.  But I had memories of Nepal in my backpack, miles of Drakensberg under my belt. Still. Once more halfway. The jitters and the shakes. My calves turned to jelly. Like Muhammad Ali, I was on the ropes. But then, the nerves stilled, the sinews relaxed and stretched, and I made it. A spontaneous round of applause from those left behind. 

  Someone shouted Braveheart. 

  As I basked in the glory, I slipped over a small rock and landed in Scottish mud. 

  Mountains can be great levellers. 

May 2024 and South Africans are preparing to vote. There are torrents raging against Democracy. We walk a tightrope. But we cannot turn back, for without a "Constitution", the bridge will crumble. 

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