August 1 marks the anniversary of the Emancipation of the Slaves in the British colonies in 1834. However, Robert Nesta Marley reminds us "none but ourselves can free our minds". For me, those lyrics sum up a realistic focus for celebrating this milestone.

Many former slaves discovered their own power, in spite of seemingly insurmountable odds and freed their own minds from seeing themselves as "victims" and becoming "¿ Masters of their fates ... Captains of their souls". Those words from the concluding stanza of Nelson Mandela's favourite poem ¿ "Invictus" ¿ served as his mantra during some 27 years of imprisonment in conditions that in many ways paralleled that 19th Century system of bondage. In his biography, Mandela credits his sense of conscience for the strength to face incredible challenges.

"Slavery" emerged in human societies even before the Egyptian era of civilisation. One might recall the story of Joseph in the Bible who was sold into slavery by his brothers. Of course, as that story goes, Joseph was able to transform his anger against his brothers into a sense of compassion that transformed his own life. Joseph demonstrated that "none but ourselves can free our minds" and stands as an example that he was "a captain of his soul". That same change in perspective can be seen in the lives of many throughout the millennia, a process that is empowering.

Again and again, the Friendly Societies demonstrated the will of former slaves to be "Masters of their Fates". In the 1860s, it was a Friendly Society acting out of a sense of conscience that initiated the action in our Supreme Court to free the group of American slaves who were blown by a storm into Bermuda in the ship the Enterprise.

It was these Societies that initiated a picnic on August 1 to commemorate Emancipation, an observance to allow the community to reflect and renew themselves. From those early picnics and with the influence of the British staff at the Dockyard, the observance evolved into Cup Match, first held in Somerset more than a Century ago.

My father William Henry Fubler grew up in Somerset and was the youngest of the four sons of Charles Rivers Fubler, a widower who maintain the sewer-system of Dockyard, while demonstrating that he was the "captain of his soul". He developed himself into an accomplished musician in six different instruments.

William attended formal school at Tin Top; leaving at 13 to work in the kitchen of the Officers' Quarters on Boaz Island. However, as captain of his own destiny, he nurtured his development by being involved in such groups as the "Sons of Allen", named after the founder of the AME Church. Richard Allen of Philadelphia had faced segregation in his church and decided to become the "Master of his Fate". He founded his own denomination. Responding to his conscience, Allen took responsibility for his freedom, and inspired hundreds to join this new church in the US and the movement spread to Bermuda in the late 1890s. One other member of the 'Sons of Allen' was William's best friend, Alfred Simmons, who later became the president of Somerset Cricket Club ¿ a post he held for more than a decade.

By the time I came along as a youngster, my father no longer attended Cup Match out of renewed religious convictions (by 1970, he had completed a course of study to become a minister). I usually attended Cup Match with my cousin Gilbert Darrell Jr. who was taken to the game by his mother, Aunt Corilita, and his Aunt Winifred, who had recently married George Dyer, a player for the St. George's Cup Match side. So while I originally hailed for Somerset ¿ my Dad's team ¿ attending the big game with St. George's supporters from the age of seven or so, I changed sides ¿ a classic example of succumbing ¿ yes, I'm joking ¿ to peer pressure.

It was in 1977 ¿ 30 years ago ¿ that my friend Eugene (Bobby) Durham and I (with a bit of help from a few others), arrived at Somerset Cricket Club around 6.30 a.m. to collect signatures for the Petition Against the Capital Punishment of Buck Burrows and Larry Tacklyn.

We still remain friends to this day and this year his son Hasan is the captain of the Somerset team, a role he has taken on in spite of his busy life as a new father to a second child Economic Advisor to the Ministry of Finance ¿ he is indeed the captain of his fate.

Hassie was only about six in '77 and spent the Match in the stands playing around with the large Durham Clan that "camped" just to the left of the sight-screen at the southern end of the Somerset field. They have maintained that spot for Cup Match when it is at the West End for almost 40 years. Overseeing the Clan was Big Jimba, with Wookie handling the flanks; while Jackie Durham would be there giving Hassie every detail of the game. Add to this, in those days everyone in the camp enjoyed delicacies prepared by the likes of Dorothy and Lorna Durham. Jim Woolridge, who would have been perched just above their camp on the sight-screen, would described the scene as great stuff. (While deceased, I'm sure Dorothy, Jimba and Wookie will be at this year's Match in Spirit to see Hassie as captain.)

While most persons coming through the gate during Cup Match '77 would have considered Bobby and I as being half-crazy, we were guided by our conscience and successfully collected more than 3,000 signatures over the period. While some thought of us as a nuisance, others may have caught the significance of the link between Emancipation and freeing ourselves of capital punishment and its implications.

Out of a sense of conscience, I was able to take the petition with those signatures along with others ¿ a total of some 7,000 ¿ when I went off for a year of post-graduate study at King's College of the University of London that September.

That same petition became vitally important when I received a call from Bermuda on November 25, 1977, with the news that Burrows and Tacklyn were to be executed in a week. During the next few days I was involved with a flurry of phone calls around London, trying to make contacts with some names I had been given by (Dame) Lois Browne Evans and others.

On November 28, I received a message to go immediately to Westminster to meet a small group at the House of Lords' guest area. I dashed over, forgetting that I had my hair in rough braids, with a cap on. Of course when I arrived, the tall "butler" on the door informed me that I could not enter with the cap. I just stood dumbfounded for a few seconds, knowing that I would not be able to take out the braids and make the vital meeting on time. The quick-thinking butler pointed out that I could enter with the cap if it had any religious significance for me. Handed a reasonable excuse, I entered and was able to meet the group of members of the Lords for discussion. I recall marvelling that had this occurred in Bermuda, I would probably been kept out of most of our sports clubs.

The next day I handed over the petition ¿ with the dust still on them from Cup Match '77 ¿ to the Parliamentary Labour Party. This was the more than 300 members of Labour, the majority in the House of Commons, who voted to block the impending executions. Their vote would have been similar to the vote in caucus by parliamentarians at Westminster back in 1833, which led to the Emancipation of Slaves.

However, in the "confusion" around jurisdiction between the courts and the legislature, even that decision was unable to prevent the hangings and the rest is history.

However, herein lies another lesson about Emancipation, even in what some might be consider a failure. Each of us is only responsible for our own 50 percent of a matter involving any relationship. As long as we have done our part, we can release the matter. After spending four evenings at Westminster during that period in 1977, visiting various Members of both the Commons and the House of Lords, I had followed my conscience. Doing our part, responding to inner guidance, is key to how one Emancipates oneself from mental slavery.

There was an informal lesson on being guided by conscience going on informally at the King's College's small campus, offered by a female student. She was a white South African, known by most as Ms Anti-Apartheid, who almost single-handedly kept the campus informed on the need to support the transformation of South African society. It was obvious that she was acting from a strong sense of conscience and her example was a part in helping me transform my perspective about the issue of colour. (I found out years later that Desmond Tutu had also completed graduate studies at King's.)

The inspiration from that student led me to organise the Anti-Apartheid Group (AAG) in the early 1980's in Bermuda. You might be surprised at the initial resistance from all sorts of people that we received to this effort. Again, this was an opportunity to work through peer pressure and in a few years it was obvious that we were gaining ground.

During the Cup Match of 1983, we approached the Clubs about using the period just before the 'first ball' to have a moment of silence and reflection around the challenges in South Africa. The club officials readily grasped the connection between emancipation and the anti-apartheid movement. We even had at least one of the radio stations involved with that observance, which pulled in the wider the community.

That next year ¿ 1984 ¿ was the 150th Anniversary of the Emancipation of Slaves. In light of that the AAG organised a cultural celebration that we dubbed Foundations, which was held at Ruth Seaton James. We were able to secure the participation of noted American actor Ossie Davis to feature along local dance and drama. It highlighted the significance of the milestones from 1834 up through the Theatre Boycott in 1959.

While only a couple years before, we only had some 50 persons attend an event at that venue, Foundations was a sell-out, raising more that $15,000 towards those working towards the transformation of southern Africa. As a direct outcome of this, the AME Church organised an expanded dramatic presentation on emancipation on the eve of August 1, 1984.

By 1990, I was taking my five-year-old son, Gordon Mandela Fubler, to Cup Match for at least a part of the day and we would sit with the family of his best mate from nursery school, Warren Simmons III. Interesting enough, Warren was the grandson of Winifred Dyer, with whom I had first attended Cup Match; another circle was completed. He also was the great-grandson of the original Warren Simmons who remains one of icons of Cup Match. Our families have shared many days together at Cup Matches since then ¿ although not as often of late ¿ since our sons had become passionate about the game and the tradition.

That same year, 1990, Nelson Mandela was released from prison. Nelson had found the Secret that is revealed in Marley's lyrics and was emancipated, although not liberated, even within the prison walls. He provides us an example of one who has taken on drastic challenges and transformed himself into a model of one acting on conscious, withstanding peer pressure and taking responsibility for his life.

I am concerned that there are those in our Island who seem to act in ways that would promote racial division; that may be undermining opportunities for promoting harmony. It appears that others seem to unwittingly feed the inner victim (especially in younger people) ¿ sapping inner power. There appears to be a link between this and the "rage" we are witnessing in certain quarters of the community.

Let me encourage us all to be aware of our words and our actions and invite us all to study the example of those on whose shoulders we stand; and join in as we all emancipate our minds. Mandela's words offer some perspective:

"It was in those long and lonely years that my hunger for my own people, became a hunger for the freedom of all people; white and black. To be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others."

This quote provides something for our reflection over this holiday period; as we access that inner joy and celebrate an important anniversary.

Have a joy-filled Cup Match