He was named after his father. Her mother, Emily, told him it's true as her last words. Nobody else believed her.
His lovely mother had dated a skinny but somehow charismatic young fella named Mohandas. Mohandas was politically active and said "If I'm seen with a gorgeous
white lady like you my political career is over". So they had
secret nights holding hands, whispering discussions and more in
the van der Boer family beach house.
On one of those nights Emily broke the news to young
Mohandas, Mahatma as she liked to call him. "My periods
are late, I might be pregnant". She was in the seventh
heaven...
Emily spent the following day planning her wedding, drawing
scetches of her wedding dress and even found Mahatma a
decent nine-to-five job. The career of political agitator
wasn't respectable or well paid enough for her sons father.
She stayed up the whole night waiting her future husband...
but he never came.
Emily never stopped waiting. She was a familiar quest to
drunks who'd found home in the nearby public beach. She just stared to the sea and seemed to be smiling.
Her father was outraged. Even the looks of the kid made him
mad. The hadn't exactly inherited the dutch outlook him
and the forefathers were so proud of. The word bastard was
often mentioned in the household.
Years passed and the fathers rage slowly cooled down. Not
that he would have accepted the grandson but he wanted the
fathers head on a plate.
He was a powerful man. Practically every man of South African police force was looking for a "skinny little guy
named Mohandas". He found out Mohandas had fleed the
country the next day. He had taken a ship to India, where
he was considered some kind of local hero. "You can only
imagine how much hero is left from that kaffer when I get
him!" mr. van der Boer yelled.
If he thought the information would put her daughters life
back on normal tracks he couldn't have been more wrong.
She got hope. She new where Mohandas was. She even started
to follow the news. "He'll be back."
She waited and waited. She seemed to be proud what her
"fiancee" accomplished. It was when Mohandas started his
boxing career when she lost her hope. When the hope is lost, everything is lost. She rapidly grew old and vanished away.
Young Gandhi's childhood wasn't the happiest one. The love
of the mother wasn't enough to compensate the open hatred and hostality of the family. He got whipped twice more than the kaffers working in the farm.
The others laughed to her mother behind her back but Gandhis unconditional love was never questioned. The only
thing he could trust was the mother. When she died he had no place in his country. Her mother had told him how his
father is the ruler of India. Gandhi van der Boer left for India
to be the king or president or whatever he would be called there.
The humiliation was enormous. The public demands for the crown in the airport were considered great news. The whole world got a laugh. Not was his father the ruler
anymore. He was some pitiful pugilist and he wouldn't even want to see his son.
Gandhi van der Boer hadn't ever had anything for free. Actually he had never had anything. Now he wanted one thing; the acceptance of his father. I'll be the king of all boxers... maybe then my father talks to me.
"HERE I AM, THE ILLEGITIME SON OF MOHANDAS GANDHI. I'M THE FUTURE CHAMPION. PERIOD!"
![CURRENT CHAMPION]()
Bantamweight Champion
August 27th 2002 - September 3rd 2002
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