August 21, 2006
The Nee Nee Man
I first saw the Nee Nee Man when I was a young boy in Johannesburg, South Africa.
He was a gray-haired old African man who carried a tattered, brown leather suitcase and wore a red fez.
The Nee Nee Man walked the streets of Johannesburg spreading what he called “God’s Joy”. His toothless mouth always carried a genuine infectious grin. He handed out incense to people who stopped to hear him sing his song.
He always chanted the same song. “Na nee, nee, nee. Na nee, nee, nee.” He did this over and over again as he walked. That’s why everbody called him the Nee Nee Man.
We would get so excited when we saw him walking down our street. Kids in the neighborhood would run out of their houses when they heard him singing. He was funny and magical and seemed so joyous. He made us all feel good when we saw him. He walked through a very happy time in my childhood.
The Nee Nee Man walked hundreds of miles every week spreading the word and handing out incense. As a kid, I saw him all over town as I peered over the edge of the window in the back seat of my father’s car.
From Yeoville to Sandton, Parktown to Glendower, this materially poor but spiritually rich man walked.
He walked for years and years. I did not see him for a while during my early high school days, but he aappeared again when I was in my final year of school.
He came into the sandwhich shop where I was working during a school vacation.
I was so happy to see the smiling, toothless old man with his red fez.
“It’s the Nee Nee Man,” I said, happily welcoming him into the store.
“What can I get you?” I asked, smiling at the man who brought my own happy youth back to visit me through his eyes.
“I’ll just have some water,” he said. “I have no money for food.”
I gave the Nee Nee Man some water and a sandwich on the house.
He appeared again the next day.
And the day after.
I felt compelled to give him a free sandwich each time I saw him.
“Thank you,” said the Nee Nee Man. “I will pay you back one day.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “You made me smile so much when I was a kid. That’s more than enough payment.”
This happened every day for about three weeks. (I was finally fired for giving away the profits to the Nee Nee Man and anyone elsee who looked like they couldn’t afford to pay for food.)
One day, during my last week of work, the owner of the deli asked me to drop off the day’s takings at the bank on my lunch break.
I took the bank bag and was walking down Rissik Street when I noticed four shady-looking characters loitering on the sidewalk in front of me.
Something was no quite right, so I crossed the street.
So did the group of men.
Then they disappeared.
And appeared again from an alley in front of me.
They sauntered along very slowly allowing me to catch up to them.
By now I knew that they were up to something and I was about to cross the road again when the Nee Nee Man suddenly appeared from behind a bus shelter.
He strode directly toward the group of slouching men.
They quickly stopped in their tracks trying to hide behind one another.
The Nee Nee Man pointed his finger and barked at them in Zulu.
The men’s eyes grew big.
They cowered at his voice, then quickly broke up and dispersed in different directions.
The Nee Nee man smiled at me.
“They won’t bother you again, Klein Bass.” He said, and walked off chanting,” Na nee, nee, nee. Na nee, nee, nee.”
Posted by trevor at August 21, 2006 04:23 PM
Comments
Cool story (what a rich life you have)!
Posted by: Liz Ness at August 21, 2006 10:48 PM
You tell the most amazing stories, Trevor. I love reading about your life experences. I hope that you may have many, many more.
Posted by: kristiana at August 22, 2006 09:04 AM
Every city has people like your Nee Nee man, full of wonder, charm, mystery. Sadly, we condition ourselves to fear them, just because of their differences. We label them, without remembering that, most of the time, they are God in disguise.
Each human being is a walking miracle. You really see that light in people, that is a great skill, Trev
Gilda
Posted by: Gilda at August 23, 2006 11:06 AM
God! Welcome Back...you were very much missed.
Wonderful story. Wonderful painting.
Posted by: Julia Farley at August 24, 2006 02:41 PM