Mannie Gien, a pharmacist who turned his values into alchemy

My grandfather, Mannie Gien, was a forward-thinking pharmacist who 50 years ago, started Springbok Pharmacy in Alberton, which is the largest independent pharmacy in the southern hemisphere.

He was the first pharmacist to discount medicine, which made him controversial among his peers and popular with his customers.

He was a true legend of a man who lived his life by three core principles: family, business, and Judaism.

He was a family man first and foremost. When he met my grandmother, Deborah, they knew they would create a multigenerational lineage. Today, they have 11 grandchildren. A Pesach was never missed and a chad gadya never not sung. Tradition was the only thing they had growing up, and both made sure their families participated.

We’re eternally grateful for the gift of family and tradition they gave us. We swore to carry on and protect the ways they showed us.

Mannie was a mighty businessman too. He ruled the pharmacy with an iron fist, taking nothing for granted and nothing for free. A rand earned was a rand cherished. Every move he made was calculated, risk and return. He knew how to operate.

His first love was the pharmacy, but his true love was the stock market. A trader in Panado knows the intrinsic value of a Naspers share. Once a trader, always a trader. I’ll miss his calls where he would rattle off a list of the stocks he was researching and why he thought they were a good buy.

He was a Zionist who staunchly believed that the study of Torah and support of Israel was fundamental in creating a Jewish state dependent on no one. A home for Jews was a priority for Mannie, both in Israel and South Africa. He helped build what is Yeshiva Girls High School today by raising funds.

It’s no small feat for a young Jewish boy, born and raised in Rustenburg by immigrant parents, to even get to go to a university during the 1950s. Mannie was a bright, eager student who like so many of our grandparents, went to Rhodes University to study a BSc in pharmacy.

I’ll never forget his stories about his university days. He was a large man. In a sea of Afrikaans-speaking rugby players who fought hard, Mannie stood shoulder to shoulder with all of them. He even managed to find himself playing in the front row. A place reserved only for the strongest of the bunch.

Mannie was unconventional in his ways, always looking for another path to yield a positive result. He and his brother, Jack, once found a way to make their own beer in a course handbook somewhere in the archives and managed to invent what we believe might be paint thinners today.

My favourite story of Mannie’s university days came at his final exams to become a certified pharmacist. They were given a physical substance and six hours to identify what it was. Though Mannie’s peers went on their way testing the substance by trial and error, tests after test, Mannie just sat there looking at the unidentified matter for 20 minutes.

Eventually, like the mad scientist he was, he decided he was going to put the substance in his mouth and almost immediately, he knew it was salt. He quickly scribbled it down on his pad and went to go hand in the paper. This took all of 30 minutes, and his professor knew that no candidate had ever managed to work this out so quickly. However, Mannie knew, and he passed that exam.

Mannie taught us that within every Jew, there’s a flame that burns bright, the pintele Yid. It cannot be extinguished nor taken away. It burns bright and it burns forever. Our duty is to carry on creating the flame.

When Mannie came into the world, it was a tough place (especially for Jews) and unfortunately, when he left this world, it appears we’re in a tough place once again.

However, something is different. We feel empowered with the love and care our grandparents had for us, a new generation where we share love not hatred. We have those old-school Rustenburg values and a bright future ahead.

He was a true family man, so proud of his children and grandchildren. He never stopped boasting about us. I used to get so embarrassed when he did it in front of me, but knowing it will never happen again breaks my heart. We can only try and be the people he knew we always were.

Mannie Gien died on 26 March. His funeral was on 29 March. He is survived by his wife, brother, three children, and 10 grandchildren.