I remember as a laaitie, all the kids in the road would gather at our house in Mitchells Plain to come and watch the latest action movie over weekends.
We watched alles from Bruce Lee’s Snake in the Eagle Shadow to Jean-Claude Van Damme’s Double Impact and Jackie Chan’s Drunken Master.
It was a beautiful time and when the movie was finished, I would put on my karate shoes and go outside to shoot a “summy” or a “becky”.
It was in the early 90s when we got a M-Net decoder and we got to watch more movies than ever before.
The first time that I saw a coloured person on TV was when our entire family gathered to watch Shaleen Surtie-Richards in the movie Fiela se Kind.
The image of her standing at the door waiting for Benjamin Komoetie to come home has been stuck in my brain forever and whenever I saw her later on in life, I would think of that moment.
For me it was surreal seeing her inside the magic box because she looked and sounded just like any other aunty in our street.
Yet, she was on the television just like Bruce Lee and all the other international actors.
Aunty Shaleen made me realise that it was possible for me to be on TV as well.
As life went on, I almost forgot about this iconic actor until M-Net brought her back to the nation in the much loved soapie Egoli - Plek van Goud.
I didn’t watch it at first but she made such an impact with the strength and dignity she played that role of a coloured aunty on TV, that people would say, ‘Het jy vir Nenna gesien in Egoli?” and before you knew it, you made your way to watch Egoli.
She did not only look the part but she also sounded so authentic without trying, it almost seemed like she was playing herself.
I don’t remember what the plot was of Egoli but I remember Nenna and sometimes het sy vir hulle darem baie lekke ingesê, LMK.
She represented the strength of mothers from all walks of life and it resonated with everybody, no matter your colour.
We all loved our daily dose of Shaleen Surtie-Richards.
She was born to be a star and was an example of talent that can’t be taught but that comes naturally from within, and everyone in the industry loved her to bits.
The first time I met Aunty Shaleen I felt very honoured, but what made me feel even more special was when she said, “hello, Waseef, kom sit hier”.
To me it was surreal that Nenna knew my name and now after reading so much about this icon following her death last week, I realised that she was taking note of the aspiring actors around her.
The second time I met her was with my wife at the Artscape Theatre, she was walking towards the entrance and I had just gotten out of my car.
I thought for sure that without any of our industry peers around, she would not know me, let alone my wife who she had never met.
But Aunty Shaleen saw us, embraced both of us and then went on to tell me about the show she did with Nur Abrahams and how amazing Nur sings.
Aunty Shaleen was quite a beautiful woman although the roles she portrayed did not always require her to be opgedollie.
If you saw her in real life, you would have said, “maar Nenna is nogal ‘n mooi vrou”.
The day before she passed away I was lying on my bed watching Leon Schuster’s Mama Jack and there she was again.
She worked many years building her name and reputation as a professional actress, just by being true to the character.
I didn’t really know her but I knew her name, I loved her character and every character she ever portrayed, and I respected her.
This is what makes one an icon and a legend; when you gain love and respect from your peers and people because they look up to you and love you because they feel attached to you without ever meeting you.
So, salaam Aunty Shaleen, rus saggies, we will miss you dearly but the beauty of your work will live on, and we will always be able to show our children just how amazing you were. Thank you.
dailyvoice@inl.co.za