By
Freddy Macha
I met Alan Hayman, a South African community
activist and musician in 1991. Back then I was living in Rio de Janeiro and had
reviewed an international film festival for a London magazine. While visiting
the country my agent (who was based in London) said she had got a call from this
African guy.
Alan pictured here in his last years working with young people in a Brazilian community. Pic courtesy of Vera Lucia Pereira da Silva...
On the phone, Alan
was polite and had a strong South African accent. I was used to South African
English because many freedom fighters were exiled in Tanzania due to Apartheid.
“Unjani!”
I greeted Mr Hayman
in Zulu.
“Ngikhona.”
This was on the phone;
but when we met I was shocked. Alan Hayman was not only white, he was Jewish.
Reflect on this. When I was growing up, a Tanzanian passport clearly stated
that you could travel to all countries except Israel and South Africa. In my
generation, white South Africans were part of racism; the enemy. So imagine my
trepidation and nervousness meeting a white South African. Alan Hayman had a
moustache, walked briskly and spoke softly. I had never shook hands with a white South
African before.
The man was like an
angel. Fact is Alan Hayman had sprinted away from apartheid back in the late 1970’s.
He hated it. In his portfolio you see him working with black people and taking
the side of the anti racists from when he was very young. Yes he was different.
It was November, London was cold; I was
shivering; I was welcomed to his pad at Finsbury Park (on the same street that
the infamous mosque where terror suspects would be arrested, after September
Eleven, ten years later) - and had a very loving, warm Brazilian wife called
Vera.
It was Vera who sent me an email last week
saying Alan Hayman had died in Rio de Janeiro. When I phoned she could not
speak properly, her cousin said she had to take calming pills. A few days later
Vera wrote me an email: “I never heard Alan complaining about anyone; he hated
prejudice, police, dentists, politicians, aggression against animals and
nature, traffic jams and bad music.”
Alan (behind third from left) on the album cover of, Sambatucada, one of the many bands he played or directed musically...
Yup.
Hayman was one of chief founders of the London School of Samba in 1983 and apart from several projects promoting Brazilian
culture and being connected to the London Notting Hill Carnival (which he involved
me too); he teamed up with African musicians, e.g. Forming the Jazira fusion band alongside Ghanaian
maestro Isaac Tagoe.
The South African was a disciplined researcher
who assisted many to get connected to African, European and Latin American
music and culture. One of his most memorable qualities was his genuine passion
to help find knowledge. He would give detailed references, lend books, record
music and in age of selfishness (and money grabbing) type and write things, making sure you got the right information. I used to
tease him that he should be a professor at some college.
Having lived in London for over 12 years, Alan
Hayman moved to Brasil where he helped find Pax, an organisation assisting to fight poverty, HIV, precocious pregnancy,
misery of street children and preservation of the natural landscape. He also
taught English.
The last time he visited London he played in my
album and we did a couple of gigs. But his spirit was always in Brazil where he
returned and died on 5th September and is, subsequently, buried. He
is survived with a son and a grand daughter.
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