Mansfield on how he wanted to be remembered: 'Compassionate, caring, fairly funny'

Clutching a white napkin, Jeremy Mansfield orders a rock shandy from the bar at the Bryanston Country Club. After wiping tears from his eyes and taking a sip of his drink, he starts talking about his “carpe diem” approach to life.

“I’m taking every day as it comes, because when you wake up in the morning on the medication that I am on you never know what’s going to hit you. You need to be prepared for anything. So you wake up and first acknowledge that you’ve woken up, because it’s a big thing, you’ve woken up and there’s another day to live.” 

In January, the veteran radio presenter was diagnosed with liver cancer, by August he was told he was in stage four. His condition is terminal and he is undergoing palliative care. 

Mansfield has fought cancer before — in 2009 he was diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukaemia and underwent treatment for nine months.

The veteran broadcaster started his career in 1985 on Capital Radio 604, broadcast from Port St Johns in the Transkei,  while studying speech and drama and journalism at Rhodes University in Makhanda, where he was born. 

In the 1990s he worked at SuperSport before moving to 702 Talk Radio where he presented the Saturday afternoon programme.

This paved the way for him to move to 702’s sister station, 94.7 Highveld Stereo. When he became ill in 2009, he was hosting the popular and controversial Rude Awakening breakfast show alongside Darren Simpson and Samantha Cowen. The following year he ended his 13-year relationship with the show and was cast in Disney’s local release of Toy Story 3 as the voice of Lifer. He also hosted Mansfield’s Moneysense, a weekly financial show on CNBC Africa.

Mansfield wasn’t confined to radio as he proved he had a face for television, hosting A Word or 2 on SABC2 and the comedy show Laugh Out Loud on M-Net.

Humour has always been Mansfield’s trademark. He says cancer hasn’t changed that, though he sometimes loses his train of thought.

“Where was it ... it was a short while back, I was going somewhere and it must have been a Monday. You know, the great thing about being where I am is that I don’t know what day it is, I haven’t got the vaguest idea what day it is and that is so cool. Do you know how cool it is not knowing what day it is and not caring what day it is, it is so awesome,” he laughs.

Liver cancer  is frequently associated with loss of memory. Other symptoms include abdominal pain, jaundice, leg swelling, weight loss, weakness and fatigue. Mansfield presents with all of these but says while he’s lost a lot of weight he hasn’t lost his sense of humour.

Jokes soon turn to tears, however, as he speaks about his condition. When he was diagnosed in January it was a different medical conversation from the one he had in 2009.

“When I was told that I had chronic leukaemia, my oncologist said, ‘You are big enough, fat enough and ugly enough to overcome this.’ I believed that and it happened. This time around, it was a different oncologist. He said: ‘It’s not as though we can give you a drug and you’ll be fine and get over it. Stage 4 isn’t curable. All we can do is manage your pain, give you the best out of your life that we can. That’s all we can do.’ And I said, OK, that’s fine, and I was totally calm. I was totally at ease with what could be done,” Mansfield says.

Having accepted his fate, he spoke to his friends and family. He says Karen Corbett, his partner, was the easiest to break the news to. She remained calm and began preparing their home for the day Mansfield would be wheelchair-bound. He describes Kari, as he affectionately calls her, as his angel, and he has the Chinese symbol for her name tattooed on his left finger.

Next, he drew up a will and began winding up his estate, a process he is still dealing with. 

“It’s really difficult, you’re splitting up your life. It’s clearing out a cupboard. It’s not easy, you’ve got to face things you didn’t ever think you’d have to face and now suddenly you’ve got to face it and you’ve got no choice. The choice is to sit back and leave everything as it is, which means the state will step in and nobody will benefit for three years,” he says.

Mansfield says the rapid rate at which the cancer progressed curtailed some of his bucket-list plans, but between lawyer meetings and hospital trips, he has been trout fishing in Dullstroom and visited his family farm in the Eastern Cape.

“It’s where I come from, where my heart is. I’ve been fortunate to see every living member of my family.” 

He looks back with particular pride on the charity work he’s done throughout his career, including for The Christmas Wish, an annual fundraising drive he established to help less-privileged families with school fees, medical bills and food.

One of the most poignant Christmas wishes Mansfield recalls came from Tyler O’Reilly, a boy in dire need of a heart operation that his family could not afford. Mansfield and his team persuaded a hospital to sponsor the operation and raised an additional R500,000 for the O’Reilly family. On the day the operation was scheduled, Tyler died at home. His parents insisted the money be given to help another child, and that’s how the Walter Sisulu Paediatric Cardiac Foundation was founded.

Mansfield smiles mischievously as he remembers receiving a Christmas request for a dog who needed a wheelchair. “Every dog deserves a wheelchair, he says. “And now, look, even I’ve got one.”

He admits he has not been universally adored, but “I think that a lot of people have a misperception about me ... though I came across as a doos and arrogant and any other harsh word, I want people to know I was a really compassionate, really caring, fairly funny, humane person who did make people laugh. Hopefully they can say ‘I now admit he did make me laugh, he’s guilty your honour’.”

From pulling off fake broadcasts in France to actual live radio broadcasts in Italy, Mansfield believes he’s lived life to the full, with just the right amount of nudity — referring to the first billboard photo shoot he did, inspired by Sandro Botticelli’s Birth of Venus. Mansfield was photographed in similar pose, a cloth discreetly covering his nether regions.

“There was a fair amount of nudity. Because I’ve got a beautiful body I feel the need to share it with the world,” he says, giggling.

On August 15, Mansfield turned 59. He’d planned to celebrate with his mom at a party for 100 guests in the Eastern Cape. Instead, at 5am on his birthday, he woke up to the news that his mother had died. 

With fatigue and the effects of morphine setting in, we wrap up with Mansfield saying that while he doesn’t know what the future holds for him, he believes in reincarnation. His battle with cancer has taught him the value of time. Should he return in any form, he plans to appreciate every moment.

In what form would he like to be reincarnated? Without hesitation, he smiles and says: “Tickey the clown from the Boswell Wilkie Circus because he made me laugh.”