South African Author Zukiswa Wanner Documents the Resolve of Volunteers on Gaza-Bound Flotilla
In her latest diary entry, the award-winning author reflects on the struggles, setbacks, and determination it took to board the global flotilla seeking to challenge Israel's blockade and bring aid to Gaza.
Tunisian protesters shout anti-Israeli slogans and wave Palestinian flags at the Port of Sidi Bou Said near Tunis on September 9, 2025, after the organizers of a Gaza-bound flotilla carrying humanitarian aid and pro-Palestinian activists said one of their boats was hit by a suspected UAV.Yassine Mahjoub/AFP via Getty Images
Update: This story has been updated to include Zukiswa Wanner's entry from one of the boats sailing to Gaza.
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Writer and cultural activist Zukiswa Wanner has finally left the Port in Tunisia, joining the Global Sumud Flotilla (GSF), the largest contingent of maritime vessels aiming to carry humanitarian aid into Gaza. Wanner is one of the South African volunteers joining hundreds of their colleagues from all over the world attempting to challenge Israel's blockade of Gaza.
The South African contingent includes Nelson Mandela’s grandson and former member of parliament Nkosi Zwelivelile “Mandla” Mandela, decolonial scholar Dr. Fatima Hendricks, and humanitarian Elham Mouaffak-Hatfield, among others.
In her first diary entry shared with OkayAfrica since she set sail, Wanner documents the emotional and political weight of taking part in a risky but hopeful mission.
Last Boat Out of Port September 17, Wednesday
The last 96 hours have been many moving parts without moving. We were going. Then we weren't, and only one member from our team was going. Then he said he wouldn't go if the team wasn't going, so the powers-that-be (in so far as you are supposed to have "powers-that-be" in a lateral movement) rethought.
I spent Sunday taking stock of food on Mendi Reincarnated (more on this later) and figuring what other foods may be needed. I returned to our lodging in the afternoon, had a nap, and woke up pretty late to meet one of our party. I left my phone in the hotel because I just wanted a wind-down chat without constantly looking at a device. That one-hour absence from my phone, which had been silent all along, resulted in an unforeseen missed opportunity. I got back to my slave master (phone) to many missed calls. It turned out in the space of an hour, there was a demand for three South African women on a boat, and I, voted top of the list by the team, had been unavailable. So Team Members Two and Three, often together, went. They had even tried calling another team member, but she had surrendered and was at the airport, so they brought in an Irish lass as a third.
Listen. There are passports that I don't mind losing my space to in a solidarity movement. Ireland is one. Brazil and any Hague Group nationalities are others. I would have cried inside if this loss had been to any other EU passport or a North American one, because what even?
“There are passports that I don't mind losing my space to in a solidarity movement. Ireland is one. Brazil and any Hague Group nationalities are others.” - Zukiswa Wanner.Zukiswa Wanner
After this, though, content with what happened, I mentally prepared to be part of the support on the ground, but being at sea was still first option. So in the morning, having been told there was a boat with three of our South African names on it at Sidi Bou Said, off we went with another fourth who hoped to get a place, only to be told on arrival that the boat was, in fact, at Gammarth. We found the boat, sure enough, and immediately left our luggage on that boat. Not for us risking having someone take our place in front of our eyes. And then we walked to the South African boat that was being repaired. The stocking boat of the day before. Here we assisted in spite of being warned by a boat whisperer that it would unlikely be ready to depart even on the last possible day — Wednesday.
Many seemed to have some discomfort with the captain and doubted whether he had any desire to leave but I immediately liked him. Quick to anger, quicker to forgive and quickest to laugh. The old man of the sea with an artistic soul. I could also see why he would cause concern. A lot of what he said in jest was taken seriously, a place I have been to all too often. But beneath the jokes lay a man serious about his responsibility. A man who would not compromise on any security issues no matter what "other boats" did. Someone anxious to leave said, "we will get there, if Allah wills it," he responded, "Allah asks that you use your brain."
Zukiswa Wanner says after missing an earlier boat, she mentally prepared to provide on shore support, even though being at sea was her first option.Zukiswa Wanner
The VIP of the SA delegation came through to the boat — Yes yes. No VIPs. Only lateral movement — and had lunch with us. I was certain all problems would be solved then. Then the VIP left on another boat early evening, and we went back to our lodging despite assuming we would have slept on the Mendi Reincarnated. We were a security risk, and the Coast Guard wanted us out. Tuesday played out much like Monday — with more work on a boat I had been calling a reincarnation of Mendi since I first got on it, but with, hopefully, a never-sink attitude. As a matter of record, at home, Fred Khumalo's Dancing the Death Drill is now in Joburg Theatre. Aboard that ship were South African ancestors, disrespected while servicing the empire.
Mendi Reincarnated is one of the boats that are part of the flotilla that's hoping to bring humanitarian aid to victims of the empire, and so in essence, damning empire for lies told and genocide and starvation funded. A bit more hopeful and having been told by some seeming expert that there was absolutely no hope on the original boat we had assumed we would depart from, I moved my clothes to Mendi Reincarnated. All seemed set except for a sea trial. When we left on Tuesday night, we were hopeful but also told ourselves if nothing happened by midday, we would go back home. At 11 am, we got a call asking where we were. The sea trial had been successful. There was space for two of us on Mendi Reincarnated, as we had been told since two days before, and we were set to sail. One of us had flown back home today, and another was accompanying us to ensure we really left.
Ten South Africans are among hundreds of volunteers in the Global Sumud Flotilla (GSF), the largest contingent of maritime vessels aiming to carry humanitarian aid into Gaza.
“Mendi Reincarnated, is one of the boats that are part of the flotilla that's hoping to bring humanitarian aid to victims of empire and so in essence, damning empire for lies told and genocide and starvation funded.” - Zukiswa Wanner.Zukiswa Wanner.
We didn't leave by midday. We set sail at dusk with the hope that we will catch up with the rest of the flotilla in the next 72 hours. Aboard, I could finally respond to a direct message from someone from Gaza. Post announcing my being part of the flotilla, they had sent a direct message to me. We had chatted about our mutual hopes for this flotilla. About his and fellow Gazans' Sumud. About the Empire. About the failure of global leaders, their enslavement to capital versus the push from regular civilians, tens of millions across the globe, for them to do better by the people of Gaza, Sudan, Congo, Haiti, and the rest of the world. To put humanity over profit. But not knowing whether I was still sailing, I had stopped responding because I did not want to lie. But I was also aware of how uncertainty can destroy hope. So I said nothing.
Now aboard, I could finally respond to a message from a Gazan called Sulaiman, updating me on conditions on the ground in Gaza. And it was and is dire. The urgency of the humanitarian corridor for aid is as dire as ever, but even at its darkest, hope remains. That the siege will be broken, but beyond that, that a lasting peace for Palestine and much-needed justice shall be served in the not-too-distant future. Failing Gaza and all of Palestine is not an option, as failure is the death knell for humanity.
“The urgency of the humanitarian corridor for aid is as dire as ever but even at its darkest, hope remains.” - Zukiswa Wanner.Zukiswa Wanner.
Before getting on board
Before Wanner set sail, she also shared a series of diary entries with OkayAfrica, detailing the possibility of a scenario that the flotilla is attacked by Israel “before we have left and the result is our retreating to dock,” a prediction that was justified after two suspected drone attacks on the nights of September 9th and 10th. However, the GSF has continued to reiterate its commitment to its mission.
A device that set fire to the deck of the British-flagged boat, Alma, was reportedly dropped from a drone in the September 9 incident. The GSF posted a picture of the burnt object, wrapped in metal plastic, that was said to be dropped from the drone. “Fortunately, it was contained with no structural damage to our boat, with no wounds to our team, and we continue our mission to break the siege of Gaza,” Brazilian activist and flotilla spokesperson Thiago Ávilasaid.
Following the incident on September 9th, Miguel Duarte, an activist on board the Family Boat, said he saw a drone hovering aboard the ship before dropping an incendiary device. All six members on board at the time of the suspected attack are safe, while the vessel suffered some damage. The Family Boat is carrying the steering committee of the GSF, which includes Swedish activist Greta Thunberg, Algerian activist Marouan Ben Guettaia, and many others.
The majority of the boats participating in the flotilla are at the Sidi Bou Said port, off the coast of Tunisia, with plans to collectively head to Gaza on Wednesday, September 10. It remains to be seen how the alleged attack affects the flotilla’s movement amidst the group’s resolve to break the siege on Gaza. “What are the chances that we will make it? 25 percent. And yet, I, the eternal optimist, think that we may make it,” Wanner writes.
The GSF claims that Israel is to blame for the alleged drone strikes, citing its previous efforts to stop flotillas heading to Gaza. Meanwhile, Tunisia's National Guard has dismissed the September 9 alleged attack as “completely unfounded,” stating that initial findings point to the fire starting from a life jacket “as a result of a lighter or cigarette butt.” The GSF has released multiple videos of the incident to back up its claims of a drone attack, an incident that could constitute a war crime if verified.
Israel has enforced a blockade around Gaza for about two decades now, blocking the entrance of ships or boats carrying humanitarian aid into the strip. The blockade is made even more effective by Israel’s destruction of Gaza’s only airport back in 2001. With its ongoing campaign, which has led to the deaths of over 60,000 Palestinians, the targeted killings of over 200 journalists, and the displacement of hundreds of thousands, it has continued to block the external entry of aid despite orders by the International Court of Justice (ICJ) that desperately needed humanitarian assistance should be allowed into Gaza.
In June and July, Israel intercepted two vessels carrying supplies to Gaza in international waters. With the GSF, participating activists, campaigners, and volunteers hope to break through the blockade and reach the suffering people in Gaza. Over 50 vessels with representatives from 44 countries are part of the GSF mission.
Wanner writes that the GSF mission is hoping to help open a corridor for food, water, medicine, and other critical supplies to enter Gaza.
Below are excerpts from Wanner’s diary entries, as volunteers on the GSF gear up for their exit from Tunis towards Gaza.
Day 1
I made it safely to Tunis, where we hope to depart for Gaza at an undisclosed date. Given what happened in Egypt and here when people tried to do a convoy with #MarchtoGaza in June, I assumed that it would be difficult to get in, but it was a painless process. Today we had a day off, but tomorrow we start training. Never having been to Tunis, I used the day to get a SIM card and phone.
For some reason, I thought it was 44 boats from 44 countries. Word is I have the number of countries right, but boats are 60 or so. My optimistic self likes to think this could be something positive, as hopefully, they can’t stop us all once we set sail, and we can create that human corridor.
Day 2 (Training Day 1)
I’ve been very laissez-faire about it all, but today shit got real in Day One of [a] two-day training. We all signed the indemnity form, which we gave in print AND electronically (to show how serious it all is), indicating that if anything happens, Global Sumud Flotilla is more innocent than a 50-year-old Zimbabwean guy with that name and with five children with four women. What are the chances that we will make it? 25 percent. And yet, I, the eternal optimist, think that we may make it.
The possible scenarios:
1. The government in Tunisia refuses to let us leave from its ports, in which case, hopefully, the 26 boats already coming from Spain will continue with the trip.
2. The IOF decides to attack before we have left, and the result is our retreating to dock.
3. The IOF decides to attack as we are closer to Gaza (this has been the case of the Freedom Flotilla, the Madleen and the Handala). This may be the most likely scenario.
4. Enough pressure from the world on their governments pushes Israel into a corner, and we actually make it. This would be great, as, although we won’t disembark, we would stay on to form a humanitarian corridor for food to come through.
Scenario 4 has happened before more than once, that's why I'm hopeful. But I am also realistic enough to know that as far as Israel is concerned, they know the majority of the world [is against] them, so these may be the last kicks of a dying horse, and as so happens when that’s the case, the kicks may be extremely ferocious.
We have sort of known it, but it was emphasized to us that whatever we take on the boats, we may not get back if Scenario 3 happens. That means I shall leave my good backpack at the home of a Tunisian comrade, have my cellphone and laptop taken to South Africa, and I’m good to go.
Day 3 (Training Day 2)
Nonviolence – Key word for the day, which makes particular sense after the training today. We all hopefully know already about the Mavi Marmara and the people who lost their lives or got injured during that attempt to break the siege back in 2010. Long and short is, if there is an interception, one must remember that unit that would likely stop us are like our police — U.S. and Brazil police to youths breathing while Black; UK police to anyone wearing a Plasticine Action shirt; South African police to anyone asking for FeesToFall/LivingWagesatMines/CleanRunningWater; Zimbabwean Police to anyone with a Twitter account that even mentions a pothole; Nigerian police to anyone asking for SARS to end; Kenyan police to anyone who wears a #KissMeIfYouHateRuto t-shirt.
Or maybe worse. Shayetet-13 [Israeli special forces] are U.S. Navy Seals on steroids. Raising your hand, answering in some kind of way, or breathing wrongly could lead to YOU being accused of inciting violence. Collective good thus demands that if we should get stopped before we get to Gaza (may this not be our portion), you may hear that I led the singing of “Kumbaya” as we were waiting to get to shore after our boat was taken.
Let it also be said now that should anything actually happen to me, you are forbidden to talk about how ancestors warned me, but I would not listen. Because why are you giving unnecessary trauma to Jama?
Update: This story has been updated to include Zukiswa Wanner's entry from one of the boats sailing to Gaza.