Most, if not all of us, admire him. We look at his work and think, 'that is the kind of journalist I wish to become' One who charges at the truth and attacks it with all his might. One who has no regard for political persecution, not afraid of South Africa's ability to ostracize and alienate those who challenge popular thinking. One who, without fail, captures the thoughts and opinions the rest of us are too cowardly to express.
But have you ever considered how it feels to be Zapiro? What goes through his mind when he is alone, having drawn yet another shower, facing the wrath of the nation's ruling party? Is he nervous? Is he afraid? What keeps him going back to his sketching pad?
For the first time last night, I found myself wondering how it feels to be Zapiro and whether that is the kind of journalist I want to become. For the first time last night, I found myself questioning the extent of my courage. I wondered if Rhodes alienates its "Zapiros"