Yesterday, 30 years ago, Nelson Mandela walked out of Victor Verster prison.

I believe every one of those who were old enough, will remember where they were and what they were doing at that moment - not only in South Africa, but around the globe.

I was in Oxford. A few of us huddled in front of a small black and white TV. For hours we sat there staring at the screen which showed the gates of the prison.

During those hours it felt like the whole world was holding it's collective breath.

We wondered what he would look like after almost three decades and whether his voice would sound similar to the last recording of him at his trial 27 years earlier?

Would he be angry and stir up hatred and violent retribution?

We wondered and we waited.

Then we saw him as he slowly walked with Winnie towards the gate. Nelson Mandela was finally free!!!

The explosion of joy was palpable through our tiny TV screen thousands of miles away. For a moment everyone believed that good could triumph over evil and that justice could prevail.

The world celebrated.

I remember weeping with joy because he was free, but also with sadness because of all the suffering and pain that had been unnecessarily caused over the decades of Apartheid to the millions of my fellow country men and women.

I have often thought how difficult that day must have been for Madiba…