Book Title: TUPAC REMEMBERED Bearing witness to life and legacy
Edited By: Molly Monjauze With Gloria Cox & Staci Robinson

LEILA STEINBERG

Soon after Tupac relocated to Marin City, he met Leila Steinberg. Leila was not only a fellow poet, but also a friend, a confidante, and Tupac’s very first manager.

Pac’s voice was –and still is—international. He was part of a movement, separate from the artist, he was really consciously a political voice. We had serious plans. He understood that he was a political vehicle and a political voice because of his birthright. He believed his art was his tool.

Years after Pac died, I went to Soweto, South Africa, on his birthday, June 16, because that’s where Pac and I always talked about going, because of the racial strife and hardship that we wanted to change. The 1976 massacre in Soweto marked what would become the turning point for ending apartheid. What was once a tragic day was now a celebrated date because of what was accomplished through all the loss and sacrifice. What’s more, it was also June 16.

I was on the bus, and a young woman, her name was Dimpo, asked me what I was doing there. I told her that I had a friend from the States who was a rap artist. I told her he’d died, that his birthday is June 16, and that he’d always wanted to go to Soweto. When I told her that I was speaking about Tupac Shakur, she said she couldn’t believe it. She told me that her friends and family hold Tupac in the highest regard. That the love they have for Tupac parallels their love for Mandela. Wow, if Tupac could’ve heard what she was saying, it would have touched him so deeply. I can still hear his laugh so vividly, I can picture him with his bright, wide eyes, saying, "Did you that hear shit, Leila? She just compared me to Mandela!"

Dimpo wanted to take me somewhere. She told me that when I understood how important Tupac is to her family and all of the people in Soweto, I would know why our trip was necessary.

We got off the bus at the main square, where there was a memorial exhibit for the Soweto massare. There was this huge display of life-sized pictures, graphic pictures of kids who’d been killed in it. Poetry was written all over it. It was really heavy, you could just feel the energy in the square.

Dimpo still wanted me to walk somewhere with her. I was five months pregnant, walking through this township with both of my young daughters, Talia and Devanee, not knowing where I was going. She was determined to show me something. So after a long walk, we stood in front of what looked like an old wooden cottage. It was the township’s phone bank, where everyone went to make phone calls if they needed to. Dimpo was so excited she was covering my eyes and guiding my footsteps. She wanted me to walk into the building without seeing. God knows why but there I was, stepping into the unknown. I was standing in the center of the room when she uncovered my eyes. To my utter amazement, the entire room was one big Tupac shrine. I mean literally. From the candles burning all over the dimly lit room to blown-up copies of his poetry, to notes and poems on the walls written by the kids.

I was blown away.

Copyright 2008 by Amaru Entertainment, Inc.