Any reason to celebrate is reason enough: birthdays, religious holidays, future chapters, milestones from the past…
One surreal festive season happened in 2013. It was 6 December, a Friday, at 3.37 am. Restless branches were playing percussion on the tin roof of my bedroom. In my hand, my phone was lit like a Christmas tree, teeming with news of Madiba's death, which had been announced by Jacob Zuma on national television a few moments before midnight.
For some time, I lost myself in the void of the Internet, suspended in the outpouring of mourning, well wishes and shared grief, feeling things oddly vicariously, too numb to summon my own thoughts.
When the sun came up, there were exhibitions, speeches, lampposts with photographs, flowers and cards, clutched notebooks and phones, press…