neglecting the welfare of one’s own family

…my next stop: Qunu, the village where I was raised and where my mother still lived.


I roused my mother, who at first looked as though she was seeing a ghost. But she was overjoyed. I had brought some food – fruit, meat, sugar, salt, and a chicken – and my mother lit the stove to make tea. We did not hug or kiss; that was not our custom. Although I was happy to be back, I felt a sense of guilt at the sight of my mother living all alone in such poor circumstances. I tried to persuade her to come live with me in Johannesburg, but she swore that she would not leave the countryside she loved. I wondered – not for the first time – whether on was ever justified in neglecting the welfare of one’s own family in order to fight for the welfare of others. Can there be anything more important than looking after one’s aging mother? Is politics merely a pretext for shirking one’s responsibilities, an excuse for not being able to provide in the way one wanted?

 
Long Walk to Freedom: The Autobiography of Nelson Mandela. Back Bay Books. 1995. p. 181