The principles taught to me by my dad had an undisputed and significant impact on me, such as the acceptance of responsibility and that you follow through on this responsibility to the very end. He ensured that we had designated responsibilities like watering the garden or cleaning the chicken pen.
When we still lived in Bultfontein we had a cow that grazed in the municipal camp just outside town during the day. In the late afternoon we had to fetch the cow so that it could spend the night in the cowshed and also so that it could be milked. And so, one wintry afternoon when I was about 10, it was my responsibility to go and fetch the cow. Unfortunately, on that day, all the cows grazing in the camp looked identical to me. To my dismay I had to return home empty-handed, without Blommetjie in tow. Despite the fact that it was cold and windy and already starting to get dark, my father sent me back – responsibility had to be taken seriously and completed successfully. Perseverance walks hand in hand with responsibility. This lesson became part of my being and served me well in later life.
The second lesson that my father taught me was the reality of cause and effect. Everything you do has consequences. Good behaviour was rewarded and bad behaviour punished. With regard to the last, my father did not believe in compromise or exceptions. If we acted outside the framework of our family’s principles and values, inevitable consequences followed – we were punished. Once we were caught red-handed while we were picking peaches from the head of the hostel’s garden. Pleas for extenuating circumstances were unsuccessful and my father’s cane imprinted the consequences on our backsides. I learned that I had to think before I acted, that taking chances never paid off as the truth would always come out in the end.
My father was an Afrikaner nationalist to his very core and, or so I suspect, also a member of the Broederbond. Being an Afrikaner was a very serious matter and he conducted himself with pride in this regard. His father fought in the Anglo-Boer War and later served a sentence in Ceylon. His mother, Ouma Nellie, along with her 12 brothers and sisters, were held captive in a British concentration camp – she was the only one who survived. I can still remember the heartache and pain in her eyes when these memories haunted her.
A question that I sometimes ask myself is whether my Afrikaner heritage, honed by my father’s lessons and example, played an important role in my career. In my opinion it did, and in a positive way. During the first couple of years of my involvement in the motor industry and marketing world I wanted to show that an Afrikaner could also achieve success in an environment which was mostly dominated by English speakers. Later on in life I wanted to show through my example that I could make a positive difference in the lives of all South Africans – and that I was co-responsible for the mistakes of the past. But more importantly, that I also accept responsibility for creating a better future.
Like my father I will always honour my Afrikaner heritage, but in my case it is secondary to being a proud South African.
My mother, however, was the biggest influence in my life. She applied her Christian values every day with conviction through charity work and her compassion towards all people. She was willing to sacrifice everything for her family and community. The memory of her joy and gratitude towards her Creator and fellow man will stay with me forever. Most of all I will cherish her unconditional love. The inspiration of her example will remain the richest blessing in my life.
Although I did not realise it at the time, my mother was the first real example I had of servant leadership, the philosophy that I would later come to embrace. She was an exceptional example of a servant leader in her community and family. My father was 10 years her senior – in fact, he was her teacher at one stage. At the end of her matric year they got married and a year later my brother Hennie was born. Thus she never had a career, but dedicated her life to serving others. I never once saw her display any positional power, not even in the upbringing of her four sons. Even though my father had the undisputed position of authority in our house, my mother had more influence – he was the head but she was the heart. Without a doubt she deserved our respect, trust, love and admiration. My utter determination to deserve her love, and to live in a way that would make her proud of me, was the driving force in my life. She called me her “sonskynkind” (sunshine child) and I wanted to stay that for her, no matter what.
Finally my upbringing was also influenced and enriched by my three brothers Hennie, Koos and Attie. In between the normal fighting from time to time, we were great friends who were forever busy doing one thing or another. My father believed being idle was unacceptable and kept us occupied, and as the headmaster’s children we felt the pressure to set the best example at all times. We also had to participate in everything possible – even piano lessons were mandatory. Doing our best in order to realise our God-given potential was the mantra our parents encouraged us to live by. All three of my brothers excelled in their own right and have always been a source of great encouragement to me. Apart from everything I learned from them, my brothers’ love and support remains incredibly precious to this day. They are my best friends.
January 1966
University
It was with a huge lump in my throat that I said goodbye to my family at Kroonstad station. The train journey to Pretoria was a mixture of sadness and excitement – excitement because a new chapter awaited me in Pretoria, sadness because I suddenly felt very alone and vulnerable. It was the first time that I would be living away from my family and friends. I was not aware of anybody I knew who would also be studying at Tuks.
My first year of studying Mechanical Engineering was not a pleasant experience. I had hopelessly underestimated the adjustment it would take. Residence life was not quite what I envisaged – for the first time in my life I had no privacy and had to adjust to an environment where late nights and constant noise was the norm. To make matters worse, I enjoyed my studies even less. Applied Mathematics and Physics was simply not my cup of tea. I struggled to cope and after two re-examinations, finally passed my first year. But in my heart of hearts I knew that my dream to enter the motor industry would not be attained through a degree in Mechanical Engineering. A few weeks before I had to return to Pretoria for my second year I confided in my mother. In her normal diplomatic way she prepared my father for the bad news. Notwithstanding the serious financial implications of the repayment of my Iscor bursary, he agreed that I could change courses. For that I will forever remain grateful.
What alternatives for studying did I have? I literally paged through the University of the Orange Free State’s Yearbook and decided on a B.Com degree on the spur of the moment, majoring in Transport Economics. Since my parents had moved to Bloemfontein in the meantime, I could now study from home.
I enjoyed my studies at the University in Bloemfontein right from the word go. Most of my subjects interested me greatly and I found comfort in being back home again. Since I felt very guilty about my dad having to repay my engineering bursary, I did not want to ask him for spending money and started to look for part-time work. One of my less successful attempts was selling Simba chips at the local stock car races. My meagre profit of less than R1 for a whole night’s hard work among the spectators saved me from that basket-around-the-neck job.
Shortly thereafter I was very fortunate to be appointed as a sales assistant at Stellenvale, a liquor store in Bloemfontein. The lessons that I learnt from Tannie Hester Pretorius, the manager, were many and very valuable. She was an outstanding businesswoman, fussy and strict. In the till all the banknotes had to be sorted in neat piles with Jan van Riebeeck’s head facing upwards. Every Saturday afternoon we had to take stock, and if the records did not reconcile to the last bottle, we had to start all over again. Her commitment to business ethics and good governance represented an outstanding example long before anybody had ever heard of the King Code of Good Practice.
I had the privilege of working there for three years during weekends and university holidays. On top of her flair for management, she also possessed a wonderful sense of humour. Although some of our heavily intoxicated customers sometimes caused lots of laughter, valuable learning also took place – she insisted that they always had to be treated with respect. It was my first exposure to the practical realities of business, which turned