University of Delaware Office of Public Relations The Messenger Vol. 5, No. 4/1996 South African alumni help restructure nation after apartheid Earlier this year, Renosi Mokate, Delaware '83M, '86PhD, looked out the window of her comfortable, South African home and caught her breath. There on the lawn were her daughter, Reitumetse, and son, Mandisi, running and playing with their friends-black, white, Indian. Inside, she and her husband, Sibusiso Vil-Nkomo, Delaware '83M, '85PhD, were preparing for a trip to Robben Island, the "Alcatraz" of Africa, where South African President Nelson Mandela once had been imprisoned for almost two decades. It was as if Mokate were standing still for the first time in four busy, complex years, realizing anew the immensity of the projects she and Vil-Nkomo had been involved in as they worked toward the birth of a new nation-the restructuring of South Africa. There were all these children, free to form friendships with anyone at all-a privilege never available to their parents, who were raised under apartheid. Defeating that system, which sent Vil-Nkomo into exile in 1976, and replacing it with a government that ensures equality for all had been the couple's dream since they met at Lincoln University, near Oxford, Pa., in the late 1970s. The hard work of turning that dream into reality has been their mission since they were allowed to return to South Africa in 1992. When the two speak of their accomplishments, they do so in terms of what their efforts have meant to their country, not as personal achievements. Mokate, as the chief executive officer of South Africa's first Independent Electoral Commission, structured the first democratic election in a country where 90 percent of the people had historically been denied the right to vote. Vil-Nkomo hammered out civil service provisions in the interim constitution of the new government, and he continues to create and administer a new, integrated civil service in a county where people of color previously were denied a role in government administration. A long way from the '70s In June 1976, a revolt by students in Soweto against apartheid spread throughout South Africa. Many of those students, including Vil-Nkomo, found their lives in danger. "I left the country then, without any passport, without any documents, by way of the underground. It was dangerous. There were many soldiers on patrol; that had been going on since the '60s. A number of people in my family were involved in the struggle. It was hard to leave my mother and sister, but they were very conscious of what was going on," he recalls. After spending some time in Botswana, the Phelps Fund offered Vil-Nkomo a scholarship to study in the U.S. At 22, he found his way to Lincoln University to pursue a bachelor's degree. Meantime, Mokate was finishing high school and working, trying to get into college. Because she had gone to high school in Swaziland, she had a hard time getting admitted to a South African university. "It was punishment for not staying in the country for high school. They said I could not be admitted because I had not studied Afrikaans [language]," she recalls. Finally, an uncle, who had left South Africa for Zambia, was able to get her a scholarship to Lincoln University, where she and Vil-Nkomo met. The '80s: Life in the U.S.A. After completing their bachelor's degrees, the two enrolled in graduate school at UD, choosing majors that would most benefit their native country. They earned both master's and doctoral degrees from the College of Urban Affairs and Public Policy, with the dream of some day returning to South Africa and making a difference. "Sometimes, I would get discouraged and be convinced I would never see South Africa again," Vil-Nkomo says. "But, most of the time, we were hopeful. We tailored our studies at the University so that if the day came and we could go back, we could use our knowledge appropriately." While in graduate school, the couple taught at Lincoln, Vil- Nkomo in political science and Mokate in economics. Both eventually became department heads. Their two children were born in the U.S. The '90s: A time of hope and change Like all South Africans, Mokate and Vil-Nkomo saw their lives begin to change with Mandela's release from prison in 1991. They met him on his second official tour of the U.S. that year, and he encouraged them to come back to South Africa and be part of the work of building a new nation. Mokate arranged to visit family and friends in South Africa later that year, taking their children along. Vil-Nkomo, still officially listed as a criminal, remained in exile. Because Mokate had intentionally kept her maiden name, there was no legal record of her marriage that would have prevented her return. "I went back to see if I could set things up for all of us to return," she says. "I went looking for jobs for both of us. I was assessing the situation, the politics, the security. The South African government was still in power. "Eventually, people who were already involved in the negotiations for a new government were able to get a passport for Sibusiso," she says. Their dream was beginning to come true. Hitting the ground running "When I was away from South Africa, I made it my goal that, should I be able to return, I would help prepare individuals to go into government, to be part of the process of training people for the future civil service," Vil-Nkomo says. "Neither of us could go back and sit peacefully and observe. We both hit the ground running." "We knew there was no way we could go back and be quiet. We knew that whatever we chose to do, it would be in the context of what was going on," Mokate adds. Originally, Mokate joined the staff of the Development Bank of South Africa as a policy analyst. "With changes coming, the bank had to rethink what its role should be. Almost as soon as I got there, I became involved with a housing policy paper to which the bank had to respond. I was working on it before I even knew where the coffee was! "In 1993, things started to snowball as we saw what sort of political system would emerge and studied the fiscal implications." A month later, the Commission for the Democratization of Federal States was formed to define the geographic boundaries of South African states, and Mokate was appointed its administrative research coordinator. She worked seven days a week, lending research and technical support to the commission. "No sooner was that job finished than the electoral process started," Mokate says. As chief executive officer of the Independent Electoral Commission, she had a mere four months to structure and manage the country's first democratic election. "During the three-year period of negotiations, the deadlines were incredible. There was such a sense of urgency," she says. "To be involved, you had to push yourself. Who wants to be the one to keep the constitution of a country from being completed?" When the historic election day-April 26, 1994- came roaring in, Mokate's only memory is of counting votesand countingand counting some more. Vil-Nkomo, on the other hand, had the privilege of taking his 77-year-old mother to vote for the first time in her life. "I picked her up near Johannesburg and took her to a place that was formerly a 'No Go' [white only] area in Pretoria. It was voting day for senior citizens. There were many white voters at the polls, and it was very moving to see my mother vote for the first time," he says. When he first returned to South Africa, Vil-Nkomo taught at the University of Witwaterstrand, directing a graduate program in public policy. "I went back thinking I would take one role-preparing people for public service. Six months later, I was asked to head a think tank on public/civil service. We were charged with writing a brief, to study the existing civil service and find ways to restructure it. It was interesting because, as blacks, none of us had been able to be part of the civil service before." At the same time, in something he refers to as "a shocking privilege," he was asked to represent the African National Congress, the country's largest political party, in bilateral negotiations with the outgoing government of F.W. de Klerk on the issue of civil service-to actually hammer out a portion of the country's new interim constitution. "We wanted to enshrine the public service concept and its availability to all in the constitution," he says. "We were working under tight deadlines and, until the end, we weren't sure we'd have closure by the time of the negotiations." Mandela then appointed Vil-Nkomo to the public service commission charged with implementation: "The job of taking what we had put in the constitution and making it real," he says. After the elections, Mokate joined the faculty at the University of Pretoria, where she is professor of economics and director of the Center for Reconstruction and Development, which provides training and technical assistance to local and provincial governments and supports rural development. The family maintains a residence in Pretoria and Cape Town, with Vil-Nkomo shuttling back and forth between the two. The children go to a public-and formerly all-white-school. And the future? "The value of the kind of change that has occurred in South Africa is the lesson it holds for future generations and for other nations: That conflict can be resolved peacefully through negotiations instead of through civil strife. There are ways to resolve conflict, no matter how old the conflict is," Vil-Nkomo says. "For me, as an individual, it is very gratifying to be able to be right in the middle of the creation of a new nation. It has been a wonderful opportunity. The sacrifices we all made, going into exile and giving up our families and South Africa-all of that is overshadowed by the fact that now we are involved in something concrete, building a new society," he says. "It is also gratifying to know that perceptions we had about whites and that whites had about blacks are dropping very fast as we all work together," he says. "We are both saying, 'We should have done this years ago.' There are still major challenges and much work to be done. But, as we place major emphasis on human relations and draw closer, it's hard to believe things were so polarized for so long." "As South Africa moves back into the global arena," Mokate says, "my children will have an opportunity to live in a dynamic country where they can learn things that will equip them well. I hope the change will open doors for them." -Beth Thomas