POLLSMOOR MAXIMUM SECURITY PRISON

MARCH 1982–AUGUST 1988

Nelson Mandela, Walter Sisulu, Raymond Mhlaba, and Andrew Mlangeniⁱ were transferred on 31 March 1982 from Robben Island to Pollsmoor Maximum Security Prison on the mainland, where they were held in a large communal cell. Shortly after their arrival, Mandela wrote to the ‘kitchen department’ to inform the staff of his dietary requirementsⁱⁱ and then to his lawyers in case they were not aware that he was now in another prison. They were joined in Pollsmoor Prison by Ahmed Kathrada on 21 October 1982. Mandela said he was never told why they were all transferred. He asked the commanding officer who replied that he could not say.

‘I was disturbed and unsettled. What did it mean? Where were we going? In prison, one can only question and resist an order to a certain point, then one must succumb. We had no warning, no preparation. I had been on the island for over eighteen years, and to leave so abruptly?

‘We were each given several large cardboard boxes in which to pack our things. Everything that I had accumulated in nearly two decades could fit into these few boxes. We packed in little more than half an hour.’⁵⁸

A large face-brick prison complex nestling at the foot of the mountains outside Cape Town, with beds and better food, Pollsmoor was in a way a tougher existence for the men. Gone was the open space they had walked in from the cell block to the lime quarry; or down to the seashore to harvest seaweed. Separated from the rest of the prison population, they were held in a rooftop cell and could only see the sky from their yard.

To the head of prison, Pollsmoor Maximum Security Prison

D220/82ⁱ: NELSON MANDELA

The Head of Prison,

Pollsmoor Maximum Prison

Attention: Kitchen Department

Kindly note that for health reasons I am on a salt free diet. I am also not on eggs.

[Signed NRMandela]

[not dated but the date handwritten by a prison official is 82/04/20]

[In another hand in Afrikaans] Dealt with

[Signed] W/Oⁱⁱ Venter

To the head of prison, Pollsmoor Maximum Security Prison

D220/82: N MANDELA

21.1.83

The Head of Prison,

Pollsmoor Maximum Prison.

Attention: Captain Zaayman

I must ask you to investigate, once again, the question of the letter which Prof. Carterⁱⁱⁱ wrote to me, the censoring of the letter from Mrs Mgabela,^iv as well as the three other issues mentioned below. I repeat this request in the hope and confidence that you will re-examine these questions with the detachment and understanding they deserve.

I must stress that the reply I received in response to my representations to you suggests that despite the care and patience with which I explained the whole matter, in fact you did not understand me and accordingly misdirected your enquiries.

  1.       Letter from Prof. Carter

            On the two previous occasions I raised this particular matter with you, I pointed out that Prof. Carter had written to me in May last year after she had read press reports that I had been transferred to this prison. I further pointed out to you that the letter was probably lying in some office in this establishment and that you might be able to trace it in the course of a proper search.

                 But then the other day the warder in charge in this section read me a written note, purporting to come from you, to the effect that Robben Island Prison had informed you that no letter from Prof. Carter had been received. In view of the fact I expressly explained to you that the letter had been addressed to this prison, I could not understand why Robben Island was ever brought in. I must, therefore, request you to look into this matter again and to advise me of the results of your enquiry in due course.

  2.       Letter from Mrs Mgabela

            You did not respond at all to my request relating to this question. But in the notes which were read out to me by the warder in charge there was a message to Mr Magubela which appeared to be your response to the request I had earlier made to you on the same issue.

                 You will readily appreciate that it is not easy for one to comment with regard to the actual words which were deemed by the censors to be objectionable. But what is perfectly clear is that either your failure to respond to me or the error you made is certainly no evidence you gave the matter the attention it deserves.

  3.       Letter from Mrs Njongweⁱ

            About a week or so before Christmas I received a Christmas card from Mrs Njongwe in which she said I should expect a letter from her. In this connection, I will appreciate it if you will be good enough to advise me whether the letter has been received.

  4.       Heads of Argument in the case of myself v. the Minister of Prisonsⁱⁱ

            Again, you have not responded in this matter. As you are aware this is a different question from the one you referred to Pretoria.

  5.       Letter from Mrs Mandela

            When my wife visited me on Christmas Day she brought me a letter addressed to her from an organisation of women from the U.S.A. When she was refused permission to show it to me, she promised to post it from Cape Town. Please advise me whether the letter has been received.

                 I wish to indicate in conclusion that I would really like to settle these and other matters falling within your jurisdiction directly with you, and not to burden the Commanding Officer about issues which you can easily and satisfactorily dispose of. It is in this spirit that I request you to go into these matters, and it is to be hoped that you will handle them in this spirit.

[Signed NRMandela]

[Handwritten note in another hand] Warrant Officer Gregory. Refer this matter to Captain Zaayman.

[Signed]

83/02/25

To the head of prison, Pollsmoor Maximum Security Prison

D220/82: N MANDELA

25.2.83

The Head of Prison,

Pollsmoor Maximum Prison.

Attention: Major Van Sittert

The warder in charge of this section advises me that you have instructed that no woollen head-cover should be bought for me, and that I will be allowed to select a suitable hat from several kinds supplied by the Prisons Department.

I trust that you will be able to reconsider your decision and that you will not refuse a recommendation made by a specialist physician and from a medical practitioner attached to this prison; recommendations which are based on medical and humanitarian considerations and on grounds of convenience.

The plaster and stitches were removed from the woundⁱ on 14th February and I have been battling to get a head cover since that day. It is, to say the least, indifference on the part of this Department to withhold from me, for so long, an article which will facilitate recovery.

I have already tried to wear a prison hat and it has proved totally unsuitable. Its effect has only been to make a sensitive wound even more sensitive, apart from the fact that I cannot sleep wearing a hat.

I have the confidence that you will be good enough not to use your authority as to make me a caricature of myself by compelling me to see my family and legal representatives without a suitable head cover.

[Signed NRMandela]

To Russel Piliso, his brother-in-law and husband of his sister Leabieⁱⁱ

[Translated from isiXhosa]

D220/82: N MANDELA,

29.6.83

Dear brother-in-law,

I received the response from Miss Leabie giving me feedback on the role you played during the burial of my sister Baliwe. I received the news of her death in a telegram from Bambilanga,ⁱⁱⁱ which I quickly responded to. Miss Leabie’s letter came after I had sent my letter of gratitude to Bambilanga. There is only one thing I would like to say to you, and that is to echo the words of our elders, ‘I thank you’.^iv As you are aware, my present circumstances do not allow me to say anything further; however receive my heartfelt condolences.

Again, I thank you.

Please pass my sincerest regards to Miss Leabie, Phathiswa^v and the rest of the family. Yours truly, Madiba

9.3.84. This letter was written on 29.693

[envelope]

Mr Russel S. Piliso

S.A.P.

Tsolo

P.O. Tsolo, TRANSKEI

To Adele de Waal, a friend of his wife, Winnie Mandela

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

29.8.83

Dear Adele,

[Written in Afrikaans] My knowledge of Afrikaans is very bad and my vocabulary leaves a lot to be desired. At my age I am struggling to learn grammar and to improve my syntax. It would certainly be disastrous if I wrote this letter in Afrikaans. I sincerely hope you will understand if I change to English.

[Written in English] Zamiⁱ has told me several times of the interest you and Pietⁱⁱ have shown in her problems over the past 6 years. Although I have on each occasion requested her to convey my appreciation to you, the beautiful and valuable present of books you sent me has given me the opportunity of writing to thank you directly for your efforts.

It was certainly not so easy for her at middle-age to leave her home and to start life in a new and strange environment and where she has no means of earning a livelihood. In this regard, the response of friends has, on the whole, been magnificent, and it made it possible for her to generate the inner strength to endure what she cannot avoid. We were particularly fortunate to be able to count on the friendship of a family that is right on the spot and to whom she can turn when faced with immediate problems. [Written in Afrikaans] You and Piet have contributed significantly to her relative safety and happiness. [Written in English] I sincerely hope that one day I will be able to join you in your village and shake your hands very warmly as we chat along.

[Written in Afrikaans] Schalk Pienaar’s book Witness to Great Times is one of the books on the shelf. On page 13 there is a reference to a farmer,ⁱ Pieter de Waal, who participated in the 1938 oxwagon trek to Monument Hill. According to the story he succeeded to calm a group of restive trekkers in Oggies in the Free State. Perhaps he was Piet’s father or grandfather.

[Written in English] Whenever Piet’s name is mentioned, especially when I receive a letter from him, I instinctively think of a friend, Mr Combrink, from that world who probably is now running a flourishing legal firm. I last saw him about 30 years ago when he used to work in a dairy during the night and as an articled clerk during the day. Perhaps Piet will be able to give him my regards if and when he meets him.

Meantime, I send you, Piet and the children my fondest regards, and hope that your daughter is doing well in England.

Sincerely,

Nelson.

Mrs Adele de Waal, Duke Street, P.O. Brandfort, 9400.

To the commissioner of prisons

[This letter is in Ahmed Kathrada’s handwriting but signed by Mandela]

6th October 1983

The Commissioner of Prisons

Pretoria

Sir,

We have been informed by the local authorities that in accordance with an instruction from Prison Headquarters, prisoners who are taken to doctors, hospitals, courts etc. will in future be handcuffed and put in leg irons. We are told that this is to be applied to all prisoners, i.e. security prisonersⁱ as well as common law prisoners.

We wish to make an earnest appeal to you to reconsider your decision relating to security prisoners, and allow the present position to continue.

During the 20 years that we have spent in prison there have been numerous changes in our treatment. Previously we had been handcuffed when we were taken from Robben Island to Cape Town, but for a number of years this had been discontinued. We welcomed and appreciated the discontinuance, as we welcomed all changes that were designed to alleviate the hardships of prison life and make our stay more tolerable. Of special concern to us was the removal of practices which were not only outdated but which were unnecessarily burdensome and humiliating.

While we do not wish to comment on the general security arrangements of the Prisons Department, we nevertheless wish to make some observations in support of our present appeal.

  1)      To the best of our knowledge, during the entire period of our incarceration there has not been a single instance where a security prisoner has escaped, or even attempted to do so, while being escorted to Cape Town for medical reasons.

  2)      For the year and a half that we have been at Pollsmoor our experience has been that each time any of us was taken out, he was invariably accompanied by four or more warders, some armed. Often the warders were accompanied by a member of the Security Police.

  3)      This elaborate arrangement has been strictly applied in spite of our advanced ages and physical condition.

  4)      In our opinion such arrangements were, and still remain, quite adequate and the additional restraints are totally unwarranted, burdensome and humiliating. This is aggravated by the great deal of attention and curiosity that is aroused among the public at the sight of handcuffed prisoners.

  5)      We are certain that Robben Island and Pollsmoor authorities will be able to bear out our contention that security prisoners could not be accused of having abused the “medical outings”.

  6)      It has been pointed out to us – and recently with greater emphasis – that there is no distinction in the treatment of prisoners irrespective of whether they are common law or security prisoners.

  7)      With respect, Sir, may we remind you that this is not strictly in accordance with the factual position. For example, security prisoners are denied the privilege of contact visits, and, generally even though they may be classified as “A Groups” they suffer from restrictions in their day to day stay. Perhaps more important; security prisoners on the whole are being denied the facilities for remission and parole enjoyed by other prisoners. We believe that the few to whom this dispensation was extended were given remission ranging from a couple of weeks to a few months.

  8)      We submit that since differential treatment does in fact exist, there should be no reason why security prisoners should not be exempted from the instructions regarding handcuffs and leg irons.

  9)      Lastly, from the point of view of health we consider these new arrangements to be a decided disadvantage. A number of us are suffering from high blood pressure, and it is important that when we are taken to specialists we should be relaxed and completely free of tension. It is likely that the humiliation and resentment caused by handcuffs will adversely affect our blood pressure. To an extent, therefore, this would be defeating the purpose [of] our consulting the specialists.

We respectfully state that we cannot think of a single valid reason why this new restriction should be applied to us, and we once again appeal to you to abandon them.

Thank you,

Yours faithfully

[Signed NRMandela]

N.R. Mandela

To Fatima Meer,ⁱ a friend

[Stamp dated 30.1.84]

Our dear Fatimaben,ⁱ

Arthur & Louise Glickman c/o Glickman farm R.F.D. 2, Clinton, Maine, 04927, U.S., have twice sent me a cheque but without a covering note. Although I asked Zamiⁱⁱ to write & thank them on my behalf, it is proper for me to add to what she has said to them. But my main difficulty is that I have not information on them other than the particulars that appear on their cheques. You will be the best person to contact them & thereafter send me the particulars at your earliest convenience.

Our niece, LWAZI VUTELA, a teenage daughter of Zami’s late elder sister, is also over there. She is a second yr student at Wellesly College, Box 128, McAfee Hall, Wellesley M.A., 02181, U.S.A. I don’t know just how far her college is from Swarthmore,ⁱⁱⁱ but I will be happy if you can see her & perhaps introduce her to some of your friends there.^iv

She tells me that she has written me several letters from the States, all of which I never received. She adds that most of the time she is lonely & homesick, which is quite understandable for a person of her age. She will find your advice on both academic & personal matters valuable.

Talking of people in the U.S.A., I was very disturbed when I read in the Time Magazine that our friend, Senator Paul Tsongas, from Massachusetts, is suffering from some form of cancer & that, as a result, he will not seek election for a second term in Nov. As you know, he has visited Zami in Brandfort & has, in the process, become a good family friend. I was sorry to learn of his illness & sincerely hope that the illness was detected in time & that he will recover completely in due course. As you know, I cannot write to him & all that I can do is to ask you to give him our good wishes & fondest regards. Do you hope to see professors Gwen Carter^v & Karis?^vi

I trust that it will be possible for you to visit the holy city of Mecca & Tehran & New Delhi. I would have written to Indira^vii long ago but, as you know, she is among those who are beyond my reach in terms of my current circumstances.^viii From this distance she seems to be doing exceptional[ly] well & I always read news about her with great interest.

My fondest regards to her.

What is Rashid^ix doing now & where? You have kept me informed about the girls but given away very little on the heir.

Needless to say, in my current circumstances it is not easy to appreciate precisely what game Bansiⁱ is now playing. Whatever it may be it seems to me that he has chosen a pitch more likely to favour batsmen George,ⁱⁱ Archie,ⁱⁱⁱ Farouk^iv & others rather than him, Pat,^v J,^vi B & YS.^vii

The Chancellorship!^viii I had already exhausted my 1983 quota of outgoing letters when your telegram came, & my response was limited to the special brief note of acceptance that I sent to you and the principal. This is the very first opportunity I have to thank you & all those who supported our candidature for the office. I am, however confident that everybody was from the outset well aware of the real issues involved, & that it is unrealistic, at this stage in the country’s history, to expect an incarcerated black candidate to be elected Chancellor of a white university, especially of Natal where apparently the Senate, & not members of Convocation, has the final say on the matter. Maybe that on your return, it will be possible for you to investigate, if that is possible, exactly what measure of support we enjoyed. Meantime do give everybody our sincere appreciation & thanks.

I have not heard from Maki^ix for quite some time now. But she promised to start this mnth & I hope you fully briefed Ismail^x on her before your departure.

Coming back to you, it seems that I must congratulate you in every letter that I write to you. In my last letter I congratulated you on your appointment as Prof; press reports indicate that Swarthmore will honour you with a doctorate, an honour, which in my view, you rightly deserve. This is more than a triumph of Women’s Lib & I fear that poor Ismail had joined those husbands who are known more through their wives. There must be many who now refer to him as “Fatima’s husband”. I miss him very much & I was very happy when press reports indicated that he was one of the speakers in Mota’s^xi commemoration service. This is a very long letter & I must now stop so that you can rest a bit. Tons & tons of love Fatimaben.

Very sincerely, Nelson.

Kindly register all your letters to me.

To Trevor Tutu, son of Desmond & Leah Tutuⁱ

[This letter was retyped in a telexⁱⁱ to the Commissioner of Prisons]

[Note in Afrikaans] Confidential

913

Commissioner of Prisons

AK Security

For immediate delivery to Brig Venster please

  1.       The prisoner is still trying to make contact with Bishop Desmond Tutu. He is now writing to the Bishop’s son, Trevor Tutu, and is in this way attempting to contact the Bishop.

  2.       Below find the contents of the letter

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA	Pollsmoor Maximum Prison
	P/B X 4
	TOKAI
	7966
	84.08.06

My dear Trevor,

It was shocking to learn that your home was attacked and damaged, and I sincerely hope that the knowledge that you and your parents are constantly in our thoughts, particularly since we saw the disturbing report, will give you more strength and courage.

We love and respect your parents; they are never very far from the ramparts, and they carry a lamp which throws up a strong and bright flame which tends to shine far beyond the family circle. Any danger or threat of danger to them immediately becomes a matter of real concern to us all. Please assure them that they enjoy our admiration and that we wish them good fortune and the best of luck. That is one reason why the cruel attack on the house disturbed us so much.

During the last ten years, and more particularly since 1979, there is virtually nothing I have not tried to contact your father, but all my efforts were in vain. If this brief note reaches you, he must know that this is the nearest I can come to him.

But this is your letter and I want to tell you that a few years back, I read an article under your name in the Sunday Express, I think, which I found interesting. I thought it then, as I still do, that you have something to say. I accordingly hoped that you would write regularly in that paper and I was disappointed when your articles did not appear.

There is a wide and eager audience for fresh ideas, from young people who can think correctly and express themselves well. This is why I still look forward to seeing your articles some day. Meantime, I send my fondest regards and best wishes to you, Zaneleⁱ & the baby; your sisters, Thandeka and Naomi and their husbands and, of course, to your parents.

Very sincerely,

Uncle Nelson

Mr Trevor Tutu, P.O. Box 31190, Braamfontein, 2017

PS. Any response to this note must be registered

[Another note in Afrikaans]

  3.       The recipient [Trevor Tutu] is being encouraged to go ahead with propaganda in the newspapers. And he [Mandela] is also encouraging and supporting Bishop Tutu’s action on various fronts

  4.       This letter must not be released

            Commanding Officer

            Commander of Pollsmoor Prison

            Brigadier F C Munro

The first offer to release Mandela from prison came in 1974, on condition that he agreed to move to the region of his birth, the rural Transkei. His rejection of the proposal was not enough to kill the idea. Ten years later, his nephew Kaiser Matanzimaⁱ approached him with the same offer. Matanzima, known by his initials, KD, or by his initiation name, Daliwonga, had been with his freedom fighter relative at Fort Hare University. Mandela was angry to discover years later that Matanzima had involved himself in the apartheid regime’s ‘Bantustan’ programme whereby nominal independence was given to so-called African homelands. The apartheid regime aimed to rid South Africa of all black people and so created ten homelands set aside for the occupation of Africans, which were organised by ethnic group. Four of them – Transkei, Ciskei, Bophuthatswana, and Venda – were declared ‘independent states’ but were not recognised by other countries. Others had partial autonomy. The government carried out forced removals and literally dumped millions of people in these territories. They were generally poverty-stricken and provided few opportunities. Bophuthatstwana, for instance, consisted of scattered and separate pieces of land and one had to cross through South African territory to get from one part of it to the other.

Within months of Mandela’s refusal of Matanzima’s offer, South Africa’s president, P. W. Botha, used his State of the Nation Address at the opening of Parliament to suggest that all political prisoners would be freed on condition that they denounced violence as a method to achieving democracy. Mandela’s responses were withering in their rage. Both the letter written to Botha directly and a message written for a political rally, where it was read out by his daughter Zindzi,ⁱⁱ showed to the world a man who was not about to be manipulated.

Black South Africans were once more on the rise and virtually on a daily basis protests emerged from almost every corner of the country. The United Democratic Front, a huge umbrella body of anti-apartheid organisations, was unveiled in late 1983 and became the de facto internal ANC.

Botha’s declaration of a series of states of emergency from 1985 did not quell the anger of the people but increased their determination. South Africa was subject to martial law, leaving tens of thousands, including children, detained without trial, many for years. Each protest resulted in death at the barrel of the state’s weaponry. And every funeral resulted in further death.

The potent combination of the ANC in exile and the anti-apartheid movement in general had succeeded in bringing the inhumanity of apartheid into the world’s psyche. Economic and other sanctions were beginning to bite against the apartheid regime.

To Winnie Mandela,ⁱ his wife

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

27.12.84

Darling Mum,

[Sections of] the letter to Daliwonga,ⁱⁱ which I handed in this morning for dispatch to Umtata,ⁱⁱⁱ were summarised in the front page of today’s Die Burger^iv with the following headline: Matanzima doen aanbod (Matanzima makes an offer) Mandela verwerp vrylating (Mandela rejects release). This is the letter.

“Ngubengcuka,^v

Nobandla^vi has informed me that you have pardoned my nephews,^vii and I am grateful for the gesture. I am more particularly touched when I think of my sister’s feeling about the matter and I thank you once more for your kind consideration.

Nobandla also informs me that you have now been able to persuade the Government to release political prisoners, and that you have also consulted with the other “homeland” leaders who have given you their full support in the matter. It appears from what she tells me that you and the Government intend that I and some of my colleagues should be released to Umtata.

I perhaps need to remind you that when you first wanted to visit us in 1977 my colleagues and I decided that, because of your position in the implementation of the Bantustan system, we could not accede to your request.

Again in February this year when you wanted to come and discuss the question of our release, we reiterated our stand and your request was not acceded to. In particular, we pointed out that the idea of our release being linked to a Bantustan was totally and utterly unacceptable to us.

While we appreciate your concern over the incarceration of political prisoners, we must point our that your persistence in linking our release with the Bantustans, despite our strong and clearly expressed opposition to the scheme, is highly disturbing, if not provocative, and we urge you to not continue pursuing a course which will inevitably result in an unpleasant confrontation between you and ourselves.

We will, under no circumstances, accept being released to the Transkei or any other Bantustan. You know fully well that we have spent the better part of our lives in prison exactly because we are opposed to the very idea of separate development which makes us foreigners in our own country and which enables the Government to perpetuate our oppression up to this very day.

We accordingly request you to desist from this explosive plan and we sincerely hope that this is the last time we will ever be pestered with it.

Ozithobileyo,ⁱ

Dalibunga.”

Purely as a matter of courtesy, I would have preferred that the contents of the letter should be published only after Daliwonga had received it. But publication was made without our consent and even knowledge. I hope you will be able to make it on the 5th & 6th of next month. Our time was very short and we had so much to talk about.

About the Charman’s, I can see no objection whatsoever in you accepting an unconditional offer which will enable you to feed those hungry mouths around you. But as I said, you must consult very fully but quickly on the matter. You now need a nightwatchman to look after the house and the complex; a reliable watchman, and you should be able to sort out the matter with the church leaders there.

With regard to the forthcoming clinic I suggest that you also include Dr Rachid Saloojeeⁱⁱ from Lenasia. He is a good fellow and Aminaⁱⁱⁱ should be able to contact him on your behalf.

Thanks a lot for the visit, the nice things you said and for your love, darling Mum. Looking forward to seeing you soon. I LOVE YOU! Affectionately, Madiba.

Nkosk Nobandla Mandela, 802 Phathakahle, P.O. Brandfort.

A letter to Winnie Mandela, 27 December 1984, see previous pages.

To Ismail Meer,ⁱ friend and comrade

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

29.1.85

Dear Ismail,

I have missed you so much these 22 yrs that there are occasions when I even entertain the wild hope that one good morning I will be told that you are waiting for me in the consultation room downstairs.

As I watch the world ageing, scenes from our younger days in Kholvad Houseⁱⁱ & Umngeni Rdⁱⁱⁱ come back so vividly as if they occurred only the other day – plodding endlessly on our text books, travelling to & from Milner Park,^iv indulging in a bit of agitation, now on opposite sides & now together, some fruitless polemic with Boola^v & Essack,^vi & kept going throughout those lean yrs by a litany of dreams & expectations, some of which have been realised, while the fulfilment of others still eludes us to this day.

Nevertheless, few people will deny that the harvest has merely been delayed but far from destroyed. It is out there on rich & well-watered fields, even though the actual task of gathering it has proved far more testing than we once thought. For the moment, however, all that I want to tell you is that I miss you & that thinking of you affords me a lot of pleasure, & makes life rich & pleasant even under these grim conditions.

But it is about that tragic 31 October^vii that I want to talk to you. You will, of course, appreciate that my present position does not allow me to express my feelings & thoughts fully & freely as I would have liked. It is sufficient to say that when reports reach us that Indiraben^viii had passed away, I had already exhausted my 1984 quota of outgoing letters. This is the only reason why it took me so long to respond.

Even though Zami^ix may have already conveyed our condolences (please check) I would like Rajivⁱ to know that he & family are in our thoughts in their bereavement, that on occasions of this nature it is appropriate to recall the immortal words which have been said over & over again: When you are alone, you are not alone, there is always a haven of friends nearby. For Rajiv now to feel all alone is but natural. But in actual fact he is not alone. We are his friends, we are close to him & we fully [Share] the deep sorrow that has hit the family.

Indira was a brick of pure gold & her death is a painful blow which [we] find difficult to endure. She lived up to expectations & measured remarkably well to the countless challenges which confronted her during the last 18 yrs.

[There] must be few world leaders who are so revered but who are lovingly [referred] to by their first name by thousands of South Africans as Indira. [People] from different walks of life seemed to have accepted her as one of [them] &, to them, she could have come from Cato Manor,ⁱⁱ Soweto,ⁱⁱⁱ or District [Six].^iv That explains why her death has been so shattering.

[I] had hoped that one day Zami and I would travel all the way to India to meet Indira in person. That hope became a resolution especially after 1979. Although the yrs keep on rolling away & old age is beginning to threaten, hope [never] fades & that journey remains one of my fondest dreams.

[We] wish Rajiv well in his new office^v & we sincerely hope that his youth & good health, his training & the support of friends from far & wide will enable him to bear the heavy work load with the same strength & assurance as was displayed by his famous mother over the past 18yrs. Again, our sincerest sympathies to Rajiv, Sonia^vi & Maneka.^vii

I must repeat that I miss you badly & I hope you are keeping well. I do look forward to seeing you some day. Until then our love & fondest regards to you, Fatima,^viii the children & everybody. Please do tell me about Nokhukhanya^ix & her children.

Very Sincerely,

Nelson

Mr Ismail Meer, 148 Burnwood Rd, Sydenham, 4091

To P. W. Botha, president of South Africa

13 February 1985

The Commissioner of Prisons,

Pretoria.

The subjoined letter is for the attention of the State President,

Mr P. W. Botha :

“The State President,

Cape Town

Sir,

Copies of the Hansard parliamentary record to 25 January to 1 February were delivered to us on 8 February.

We note that during the debate in the House of Assembly you indicated that you were prepared to release prisoners in our particular category provided that we unconditionally renounce violence as a means of furthering our political objectives.

We have given earnest consideration to your offer but we regret to inform you that it is not acceptable in its present form. We hesitate to associate you with a move which, on a proper analysis, appears to be no more than a shrewd and calculated attempt to mislead the world into the belief that you have magnanimously offered us release from prison which we ourselves have rejected. Coming in the face of such unprecedented and widespread demand for our release, your remarks can only be seen as the height of cynical politicking.

We refuse to be party to anything which is really intended to create division, confusion and uncertainty within the African National Congress at a time when the unity of the organisation has become a matter of crucial importance to the whole country. The refusal by the Department of Prisons to allow us to consult fellow prisoners in other prisons has confirmed our view.

Just as some of us refused the humiliating condition that we should be released to the Transkei,ⁱ we also reject your offer on the same ground. No self-respecting human being will demean and humiliate himself by making a commitment of the nature you demand. You ought not to perpetuate our imprisonment by the simple expedient of setting conditions which, to your own knowledge, we will never under any circumstances accept.

Page from a letter to the commissioner of prisons, 13 February 1985, see opposite.

Our political beliefs are largely influenced by the Freedom Charter,ⁱ a programme of principles whose basic premise is the equality of all human beings. It is not only the clearest repudiation of all forms of racial discrimination, but also the country’s most advanced statement of political principles. It calls for universal franchise in a united South Africa and for the equitable distribution of the wealth of the country.

The intensification of apartheid, the banning of political organisations and the closing of all channels of peaceful protest conflicted sharply with these principles and forced the ANC to turn to violence. Consequently, until apartheid is completely uprooted, our people will continue to kill one another and South Africa will be subjected to all the pressures of an escalating civil war.

Yet the ANC has for almost 50 years since its establishment faithfully followed peaceful and non-violent forms of struggle. During the period 1952 to 1961 aloneⁱⁱ it appealed, in vain, to no less than three South African premiers to call a round-table conference of all population groups where the country’s problems could be thrashed out, and it only resorted to violence when all other options had been blocked.

The peaceful and non-violent nature of our struggle never made any impression to your government. Innocent and defenceless people were pitilessly massacred in the course of peaceful demonstrations. You will remember the shootings in Johannesburg on 1 May 1950ⁱⁱⁱ and in Sharpeville in 1960.^iv On both occasions, as in every other instance of police brutality, the victims had invariably been unarmed and defenceless men, women and even children. At that time the ANC had not even mooted the idea of resorting to armed struggle. You were the country’s Defence Minister when no less than 600 people, mostly children, were shot down in Soweto in 1976. You were the country’s premier when the police beat up people, again in the course of orderly demonstrations against the 1984 coloured and Indian elections,ⁱ and 7000 heavily armed troopers invaded the Vaal Triangle to put down an essentially peaceful protest by the residents.ⁱⁱ

Apartheid, which is condemned not only by blacks but also by a substantial section of the whites, is the greatest single source of violence against our people. As leader of the National Party, which seeks to uphold apartheid through force and violence, we expect you to be the first to renounce violence.

But it would seem that you have no intention whatsoever of using democratic and peaceful forms of dealing with black grievances, that the real purpose of attaching conditions to your offer is to ensure that the NP should enjoy the monopoly of committing violence against defenceless people. The founding of Umkhonto weSizwe was designed to end that monopoly and forcefully bring home to the rulers that the oppressed people were prepared to stand up and defend themselves and to fight back if necessary, with force.

We note that on page 312 of Hansard you say that you are personally prepared to go a long way to relax the tensions in inter-group relations in this country but that you are not prepared to lead the whites to abdication. By making this statement you have again categorically reaffirmed that you remain obsessed with the preservation of domination by the white minority. You should not be surprised, therefore, if, in spite of the supposed good intentions of the government, the vast masses of the oppressed people continue to regard you as a mere broker of the interests of the white tribe, and consequently unfit to handle national affairs.

Again on pages 318–319 you state that you cannot talk with people who do not want to cooperate, that you hold talks with every possible leader who is prepared to renounce violence.

Coming from the leader of the NP this statement is a shocking revelation as it shows more than anything else, that there is not a single figure in that party today who is advanced enough to understand the basic problems of our country, who has profited from the bitter experiences of the 37 years of NP rule, and who is prepared to take a bold lead towards the building of a truly democratic South Africa.

It is clear from this statement that you would prefer to talk only to people who accept apartheid even though they are emphatically repudiated by the very community on whom you want to impose them, through violence, if necessary.

We would have thought that the ongoing and increasing resistance in black townships, despite the massive deployment of the Defence Force, would have brought home to you the utter futility of unacceptable apartheid structures, manned by servile and self-seeking individuals of dubious credentials. But your government seems bent on continuing to move along this costly path and, instead of heeding the voice of the true leaders of the communities, in many cases they have been flung into prison. If your government seriously wants to halt the escalating violence, the only method open is to declare your commitment to end the evil of apartheid, and show your willingness to negotiate with the true leaders at local and national levels.

At no time have the oppressed people, especially the youth, displayed such unity in action, such resistance to racial oppression and such prolonged demonstrations in the face of brutal military and police action. Students in secondary schools and the universities are clamouring for the end of apartheid now and for equal opportunities for all. Black and white churchmen and intellectuals, civic associations and workers’ and women’s organisations demand genuine political changes. Those who “co-operate” with you, who have served with you so loyally throughout these troubled years have not at all helped you to stem the rapidly rising tide. The coming confrontation will only be averted if the following steps are taken without delay.

  1.       The government must renounce violence first;

  2.       It must dismantle apartheid;

  3.       It must unban the ANC;

  4.       It must free all who have been imprisoned, banished or exiled for their opposition to apartheid;

  5.       It must guarantee free political activity.

On page 309 you refer to allegations which have regularly been made at the United Nations and throughout the world that Mr Mandela’s health has deteriorated in prison and that he is detained under inhuman conditions.

There is no need for you to be sanctimonious in this regard. The United Nations is an important and responsible organ of world peace and is, in many respects, the hope of the international community. Its affairs are handled by the finest brains on earth, by men whose integrity is flawless. If they made such allegations, they do so in the honest belief that they were true.

If we continue to enjoy good health, and if our spirits remain high it has not necessarily been due to any special consideration or care taken by the Department of Prisons. Indeed it is common knowledge that in the course of our long imprisonment, especially during the first years, the prison authorities had implemented a deliberate policy of doing everything to break our morale. We were subjected to harsh, if not brutal, treatment and permanent physical and spiritual harm was caused to many prisoners.

Although conditions have since improved in relation to the Sixties and Seventies, life in prison is not so rosy as you may suppose and we still face serious problems in many respects. There is still racial discrimination in our treatment; we have not yet won the right to be treated as political prisoners. We are no longer visited by the Minister of Prisons, the Commissioner of Prisons and other officials from the headquarters, and by judges and magistrates. These conditions are cause for concern to the United Nations, Organisation of African Unity,ⁱ Anti-apartheid Movementⁱⁱ and to our numerous friends.

Taking into account the actual practice of the Department of Prisons, we must reject the view that a life sentence means that one should die in prison. By applying to security prisoners the principle that “life is life” you are using double standards, since common law prisoners with clean prison records serve about 15 years of a life sentence. We must also remind you that it was the NP whose very first act on coming to power was to release the traitor Robey Leibrandtⁱⁱⁱ (and others) after he had served only a couple of years of his life sentence. These were men who had betrayed their own country to Nazi Germany during the last World War in which South Africa was involved.

As far as we are concerned we have long ago completed our life sentences. We’re now being actually kept in preventative detention without enjoying the rights attached to that category of prisoners. The outdated and universally rejected philosophy of retribution is being meted out to us, and every day we spend in prison is simply an act of revenge against us.

Despite your commitment to the maintenance of white supremacy, however, your attempt to create new apartheid structures, and your hostility to a non-racial system of government in this country, and despite our determination to resist this policy to the bitter end, the simple fact is that you are South Africa’s head of government, you enjoy the support of the majority of the white population and you can help change the course of South African history. A beginning can be made if you accept and agree to implement the five-point programme on pages 4–5 of this document. If you accept the programme our people would readily cooperate with you to sort out whatever problems arise as far as the implementation thereof is concerned.

In this regard, we have taken note of the fact that you no longer insist on some of us being released to the Transkei. We have also noted the restrained tone which you adopted when you made the offer in Parliament. We hope you will show the same flexibility and examine these proposals objectively. That flexibility and objectivity may help to create a better climate for a fruitful national debate.

Yours faithfully,

NELSON MANDELA

WALTER SISULU

RAYMOND MHLABA

AHMED KATHRADA

ANDREW MLANGENIⁱ

[Each one signed above their name]

From time to time in the latter years of his imprisonment, Mandela received letters from people he had never met – ordinary members of the public who knew of him and wrote to show that he had support outside of his normal circle of friends and family. Mrs Ray Carter, a British-born nurse married to an Anglican bishop, John Carter, was one such supporter. This letter was provided by her family who said that she and Mandela had struck up a pen-pal relationship after she telephoned the head of Pollsmoor Prison saying she wanted to bring a birthday gift to Nelson Mandela. She promptly dropped off a paperback, called Daily Light, containing Biblical texts, two readings a day. Some months later a registered letter arrived from Mandela.

To Ray Carter, a supporter

4.3.85

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

Our dear Ray,

The picture on the outside cover of Daily Light has upset me beyond words. Although I spent no less than two decades on the Randⁱ before I was arrested, I am still essentially a peasant in outlook. I am intrigued by the wilds, the bush, a blade of grass and by all the things which are associated with the veld.ⁱⁱ

Every time I look at the book – and I try to do so every morning and evening – I invariably start from the cover, and the mind immediately lights up. Long-forgotten scenes come back as fresh as dew. The thick bush, the ten fat sheep on a green field remind me of my childhood days in the countryside when everything I saw looked golden, a real place of bliss, an extension of heaven itself. That romantic world is engraved permanently in the memory and never fades, even though I now know as a fact that it is gone never to return.

Fourteen years after I had settled in Johannesburg I went back homeⁱⁱⁱ and reached my village in early evening. At sunrise I left the car behind and walked out into the veld in search of the world of my youth, but it was no more.

The bush, where I used to pick wild fruits, dig up edible roots and trap small game, was now an unimpressive grove of scattered and stunted shrubs. The river, in which I swam on hot days and caught fat eels, was choking in mud and sand. I could no longer see the blazing flowers that beautified the veld and sweetened the air.

Although the sweet rains had recently washed the area, and the rising sun was throwing its warmth over the entire veld, no honey bird or skylark greeted me. Overpopulation, overgrazing and soil erosion had done irreparable havoc, and everything seemed to be crumbling. Even the huge ironstones which had stood out defiantly for eternity appeared to be succumbing to the total desolation which enveloped the area. The cattle and sheep tended to be skinny and listless. Life itself seemed to be dying away slowly. This was the sad picture that confronted me on my return home almost 30 yrs ago. It contrasted very sharply with the place where I was born. I have never been home again, yet the romantic years of my youth remain printed clearly in the mind. The cover picture in Daily Light calls forth those wonderful times.

Where does this picture come from? It looks so familiar.

How long it has taken for a parcel or message from you to come through! It was some time in 1982, I think, that Zami (Winnie) asked whether I had received a postcard from you. My enquiries from the Commanding Officer drew a blank. You have to be a prisoner serving a life sentence to appreciate just how frustrating and painful it can be when the efforts of friends to reach and encourage you are blocked somewhere along the line.

But as I look back now, that frustration was not without value. You have turned it into triumph. Your determination to break through the barriers is a measure of the depth of your love and concern. The three-word inscription in the book makes it a precious possession indeed. I sincerely hope that Zami and I will prove to be worthy of that love and support. I look forward to seeing you and Johnⁱ one day. Meantime, I send you my love and best wishes.

Sincerely,

Nelson

Mrs Ray Carter, 51 Dalene Rd, Bramley, 2192

To Lionel Ngakane,ⁱ a friend and filmmaker

1.4.85

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

Dear Lionel,

The world we knew so well seems to be crumbling down very fast, and the men and women who once moved scores of people are disappearing from the scene just as quickly. Lutuli,ⁱⁱ Dadoo,ⁱⁱⁱ Matthews,^iv Kotane,^v Harmel,^vi Gomas, the Naickers,^vii Marks,^viii Molema,^ix Letele,^x Ruth First,^xi Njongwe,^xii Calata,^xiii Ngoyi,^xiv Peake,^xv Hodgson,^xvi Nokwe^xvii and many others now sleep in eternal peace; and all this happens in less than two decades.

We will never see them again, exchange views with them when problems arise, or exploit their immense influence in the struggle for the South Africa of our dreams. But few people will deny that in their lifetime they made a magnificent achievement and, in the process created a rich tradition which serves as a source of pride and strength to those who have now stepped into their shoes.

We were so busy outside prison that we hardly had time to think seriously about death. But you have to be locked up in a prison cell for life to appreciate the paralysing grief which seizes you when death strikes close to you. To lose a leading public figure can be a painful blow; but to lose a lifelong friend and neighbour is a devastating experience, and sharpens the sense of shock beyond words.

This is how I felt when Zamiⁱ gave me the sad news of the death of your beloved mother, adding that at that time your father was under detention and had to attend the funeral under police escort. I thought of you, Pascal,ⁱⁱ Lindi, Seleke, Mpho, Thaboⁱⁱⁱ and, of course, your father. I sent him a letter of condolence which I hope he also conveyed to you all.

The death of your father was equally devastating, and particularly so because I learnt about it from press reports as I was about to reply to his last letter which I had received on 31 December 1984. That shock unlocked a corner of my mind and I literally re-lived the almost 40 years of our friendship.

I particularly recalled an occasion at the Bantu Men’s Social Centre^iv when we were addressed by Dr Yergan^v towards the end of the Defiance Campaign.^vi Attendance was by invitation only and the City’s top brass was all there – Xuma,^vii Mosaka, Rathebe, Denelane, Madibane, Ntloana, Xorile, Twala, Rezant, Mali, Nobanda, Magagane, Mophiring and so on. The audience had been made specially receptive by the D.C.^viii and Yergan, who gave an outstanding review of the national movements on our continent, was in terrific form. You could hear a pin drop. He closed that brilliant speech with a concerted attack on Communism – and drew prolonged ovation from that elitist audience.

There followed a chorus of praises for Yergan until your father took the floor. He could not match Yergan in eloquence and in the vast amount of scientific knowledge the American commanded. But he spoke in the simple language we all understood and drew attention to issues we deeply cherished. He made pertinent observations on Yergan’s deafening silence on our struggle generally and on the current D.C. in particular. Pressing his attack he challenged our guest speaker to speak about the giant American cartels, trusts and multi-national corporations that were causing so much misery and hardship throughout the world, and he foiled Yergan’s attempt to drag us into the cold war. The same people who had given the speaker such a prolonged ovation now applauded your father just as enthusiastically. I must confess that I was more than impressed.

During the 1960 state of emergency,ⁱ we spent several months with him in the Pretoria local prison. Again he showed special qualities of leadership and was of considerable help in the maintenance of morale and discipline. There are many aspects of his life that flashed across the mind on that unforgettable day when I learnt of his death. But a restricted prison letter is not a suitable channel to express my views frankly and fully on such matters. It is sufficient for me to say that Zami and I will always treasure the memory of our friendship with your parents. Please convey these sentiments to Pascal, Lindi, Seleke, Mpho and Thabo. The attached cutting from the Sowetan is hopelessly inadequate and inaccurate and I sincerely hope that you or Lindi will in due course record the story of his life and make it available to a wider audience. That is a challenge to you all, but especially to Lindi,ⁱⁱ who has special qualifications, both academically and from her actual role in the struggle, to undertake such an important task.

Turning now to more lighter matters, I must confess that I am keen to hear more about your personal affairs. I know a direct question will not ruffle you. Are you married? If so, who is the fortunate young lady? How strong is your manpower? I must add that I never forget the day we spent together in London, and it pleased me tremendously to know that around O.R.ⁱⁱⁱ there were talented young men of your calibre. You may not be aware that that discovery made me even more attached to your parents.

Pascal and I spent a lot of time together at home, and when I visited Durban in 1955 I made a special point to see him. But it was the three years that we spent together somewhere that made an even greater mark on me. I have not heard of him for some time now and would like to have his address. It was a pleasant surprise to me to learn that Clifford^iv is now Lesotho’s ambassador in Rome.^v Until I saw press reports to that effect, I had been under the impression that he was a UNO. I will be quite happy if these reports are correct. I have a lot of admiration for Chief Leabua and, from this distance, he seems to be playing the trump cards exceptionally well.

Selekeⁱ was a mere teenager when I last saw her, but I was later told that she was happily married to a medical practitioner in Maseru. I look forward to seeing all of you some day. Meantime I send you my fondest regards and best wishes.

Sincerely,

Madiba

Mr Lionel Ngakane, c/o Mr Paul Joseph, London

P.S. If you find time to reply to this note, please register your letter.

To Sheena Duncan,ⁱⁱ president of Black Sash

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

1.4.85

Dear Mrs Duncan,

In my current position it is by no means easy to keep abreast of the course of events outside prison. It may well be that the membership of the B-Sash has not grown significantly over the last 30 years and that, in this respect, this pattern of development is not likely to be different in the immediate future at least.

But few people will deny that, in spite of its relatively small numbers, the impact of the Sash is quite formidable, and that it has emerged as one of the forces which help to focus attention on those social issues which are shattering the lives of so many people. It is giving a bold lead on how these problems can be concretely tackled and, in this way, it helps to bring a measure of relief and hope to many victims of a degrading social order.

The ideals we cherish, our fondest dreams and fervent hopes may not be realised in our lifetime. But that is besides the point. The knowledge that in your day you did your duty, and lived up to the expectations of your fellowmen is in itself a rewarding experience and magnificent achievement. The good image which the Sash is projecting may be largely due to the wider realisation that it is fulfilling these expectations.

To speak with a firm and clear voice on major national questions, unprotected by the shield of immunity enjoyed by members of the country’s organs of government, and unruffled by the countless repurcussions of being ostracised by a privileged minority, is a measure of your deep concern for human rights and commitment to the principle of justice for all. In this regard, your recent comments in Port Elizabeth,ⁱ articulating as they did, the convictions of those who strive for real progress and a new South Africa were indeed significant.

In spite of the immense difficulties against which you have to operate, your voice is heard right across the country. Even though [it is] frowned upon by some, it pricks the conscience of others and is warmly welcomed by all good men and women. Those who are prepared to face problems at eyeball range, and who embrace universal beliefs which have changed the course of history in many societies must, in due course, command solid support and admiration far beyond their own ranks.

In congratulating you on your 30th birthday,ⁱⁱ I must add that I fully share the view that you “can look back with pride on three decades of endeavour which now, at least, is beginning to bear fruit.”

In conclusion, I must point out that I know so many of your colleagues that if I were to name each and every one in this letter, the list would be too long. All I can do is to assure you of my fondest regards and best wishes.

Sincerely,

[Signed NRMandela]

These two letters to anti-apartheid activist and lawyer Archie Gumede demonstrate the difficulties and frustrations with writing and receiving letters in prison and the lack of information about what happened to the letters.

Suspecting that the letter he wrote to Gumede in 1975 never reached him, Mandela rewrites it, from the copy he jotted down at the time, and resends it to him nearly ten years later.

To Archie Gumede,ⁱ comrade & friend

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

8.7.85

Phakathwayo! Qwabe!ⁱⁱ

The other day I was going through the notebook in which I keep the record of my outgoing letters, and I came across the copy of the attached letter, which I wrote to you on Jan 1, 1975.ⁱⁱⁱ As you have never responded, and in view of the peculiar problems we were experiencing with our post at the time, I have assumed that it never reached you.

Although more than 10 years have passed since it was written, and although some of its contents are now hopelessly outdated I, nonetheless, thought you should get it. The letter was written when Mphephethe,^iv Sibalukhulu, Danapathy^v and Georgina’s husband from Hammarsdale were all with you over there^vi and fairly active. One of the aims of the letter was to make them aware that there was deep appreciation for their work.

You will also bear in mind that, at that time, the relations between Khongolose^vii and Shenge^viii were good, and there was cooperation in many areas. In addition, he and I had been in contact since the late 60’s, and he still sends me goodwill messages on specific occasions. On the Island we fully discussed the matter in a special meeting of reps from all sections, and it was felt that it would be a mistake to ignore his gestures. I accordingly continued to respond.

Last year he sent me another telegram on a personal matter and my colleagues and I exchanged views. Again it was felt that, subject to what you might advise, I should write and thank him. But by the time the note reached the family you could no longer be reached. The note was ultimately forwarded to him.

At this stage I would like to digress a bit and tell you about a young lady, Ms Nomsa Khanyeza, 3156, Nkwaz Rd, Imbali, whose letter I received in Nov ’82 and to which I immediately replied. I never heard from her again. I would like you to visit her home when you are in the area. In particular I would like to know whether she is still at school, and whether her parents have the funds for her education. From her letter she appears to be a child of ability.

Perhaps Thozamile and Sisa are aware that Between the Lines: Conversations in SAⁱ by Harriet Sergeant has been published. She has some interesting observations to make on a wide variety of interviews. But a young lady of 26 can often be outspoken, and she seems to have recorded intimate sentiments and reactions which were not meant for public consumption. Although she is forthright in her manner, in my opinion, she has said nothing really damaging about the trade unionists she met. I am keen to know who Connaugh is. This is apparently the cover name of the bearded white man with jeans, earphones on his head, microphone in hand and a recording machine at the ELⁱⁱ trade union meeting. Please get me this information if they already have the book.

In conclusion, I would like to draw your attention to a letter in a JHBⁱⁱⁱ daily which dealt with the case of 9 men who were condemned to death by Queen Victoria for treason. As a result of protests from all over the world the men were banished. Many years thereafter, the Queen learned that one of these men had been elected PM^iv of Australia,^v the second was appointed Brigadier-General in the U.S.A. Army,^vi the third became Attorney-General for Australia,^vii the fourth succeeded the third as A.G.,^viii the fifth became Minister of Agriculture for Canada,^ix the sixth also became Brigadier-General in the U.S.A.,^x the seventh was appointed Governor-General of Montana,^xi the eighth became a prominent New York politician,^xii and the last was appointed Governor-General of Newfoundland.^xiii

It is a relevant story which, although you are probably aware of it, I think it proper to remind you of it. Fondest regards and best wishes to you and all your colleagues. Remember that you are all in our thoughts.

Sincerely, Madiba.

P.S. Nomsa was at the time of writing the letter a pupil at the Georgetown High School.

[The attached letter]

To Archie Gumede,ⁱ friend and comrade

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

P/B X4, TOKAI, 7966

January 1, 1975 [resent on 7 July 1985]

Phakathwayo Qwabe!ⁱⁱ

I have been thinking of writing to you since the death of A.J.ⁱⁱⁱ You were so close to him that, though I immediately wrote to the Old Lady,^iv I felt I should also send my condolences to you, M.B.,^v Zanu [or Zami],^vi Sibalukhulu and Siphithiphithi. You have been together for a long time, handled important problems jointly, and moved forward in tight formation as Nodunehlezi did many years ago. It is difficult to think of the chief without at the same time thinking of the five of you.

I still well remember the Drill Hall^vii when you would come together almost instinctively, talk about soil and sand and, at times, relax over a dish of amadumbe,^viii punctuating the conversation with repeated “ha-a-a-wu! ha- a-a-a-wu!”^ix

In due course you were admitted as an attorney and only now do I write to say: well done! People who hardly hear from us may be those we trust and respect most. We may keep quiet because we are certain that they will understand that pressure of other commitments makes it difficult to reach them.

I have thought of you often these twelve years, equally felt the grimness that gripped you, especially in ’63,ⁱ and rejoiced with you when the sun shone again. I was at Mgungundlovuⁱⁱ in March ’61ⁱⁱⁱ and have been wondering whether I actually met you on that occasion. I stayed with Mandla’s parents. In ’55 I had spent a whole night at Boom St.^iv chatting with Moses,^v Chota,^vi Omar^vii and others. The next day Mungal^viii and I travelled to Groutville^ix where I spent a whole day with AJ. By the way, I was returning from him in Aug ’62 when I met your homeboys in Howick.^x

I also think a lot about Mphephethe, Sibalukhulu, Georgina’s hubby, MB, RM and Mutwana wa kwa Phindangene with fond memories. When New Age^xi was strong enough to do her weekly rounds, Mphephethe had a powerful horse he could ride to reach us all, and we knew what he thought. Old and famous horses keel over like many that went before, some to be forgotten forever and others to be remembered as mere objects of history, and of interest to academicians only. But the disappearance of this one has left a void that will be felt alike by stable owners, jockeys, punters and the public at large.^xii There still will be many race meetings here, but for some time we will miss the tension and sharpness of competition which NA^xiii brought into every such race.

In his short stories Mphephethe always had something new and meaningful to say, and his theme, style and simplicity always absorbed me. I hope that with age and all the experience of eight full years away from Mgungundlovu, he has returned in earnest to his parchment and quill, more prepared than ever before.

About two years ago I had the pleasure of reading a thesis he had prepared. I would have liked to discuss some aspects discreetly with him, and one of my regrets is that this opportunity never came. The feeling of regret is all the more painful because his handling of the theoretical issues made a powerful impact on me. Thereafter I read another essay by him on more topical isses, and I was very happy to learn that our thoughts were substantially similar. I hope he keeps fit by now and again donning ibhetshu,ⁱ letting every one of his bones swing to the beat of the ox-hide drum and indlamu.ⁱⁱ

I have met Sibalukhulu far more often than Mphephethe. We have been together several times in Durban and for a stretch in J.H.B.ⁱⁱⁱ I last had a chat with him in Aug ’62. He will remember the occasion very well. Milner, Selbourne, MB, Mduduzi and Elias were there. The uncompromising champion of Impabanga was, as usual, neat in dress and his hair was cola black and glossy. Little did I suspect that it was as white as mine, and that Sibalukhulu kept it fresh with Nugget. On that occasion, he revealed surprising flexibility as we chatted along, and I came away feeling much closer than I have ever been to him. This is the impression of him that I have carried during the last 12 years; that is why I miss him so much and really look forward to seeing him one day.

Time was when Georgina’s hubby, Danapathy and I were like triplets, and I am still inclined to feel somewhat lonely when I think of the immense mileage that separates us. But it is the fact of being triplets that still dominates my thoughts and feelings.

Many threads bind us together. Centuries ago your forefathers and mine scratched the fertile valleys of the Tukela^iv for a living and drank from its sweet waters. Mafukuzela,^v Lentanka,^vi Rubusana^vii and others were there in 1912 to extend and deepen those ties, a development with which your Pa’s name is closely associated.

You have added yet another thread, and we belong to that tribe which exploits advocates, magistrates and judges. Again, well done Mnguni. I am looking forward to seeing your family some day, as well as Sukthi, Sha, Sahdham^viii and their mum.

Fatimaⁱ has already been here and we maintain regular contact. Alzena, Tryfina, Mabhala, Magoba and Gladys have sent Xmas cards every year since ’64 and, in the last three years or so they have been joined by Sukthi and family. All these are ladies who love and friendship I highly value and will ask you to give them my fondest regards. Some day I may be able to shake their hands very warmly.

Once again, my deepest sympathy to you, MB, Zanu [or Zami], Sibalukhulu and Phithiphithi.

Sincerely,

Nel

Mr Archie Gumede, 30 Moodie St, Pinetown [3600]

To Victoria Nonyamezelo Mxenge,ⁱⁱ lawyer and political activist

8.7.85

8.7.85D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

Our dear Nonyamezelo,

I believe that one of you has already visited Ntobeko at Mgungundlovu,ⁱⁱⁱ and I sincerely hope that his preparations are proceeding smoothly. Far more is involved in his case than the simple legal issues set out in the pleadings, and I felt that once you, Pius,^iv Louis, Boyce, Yunus and others become consciously aware of its wider implications, you would immediately rally to his assistance. In this connection, I trust that you will be good enough to remind attorneys Ismail Meer, Verulam,ⁱ and JN Singh, Durban, of my message in which I outlined how they could team up on an important aspect of this matter. It will be a splendid victory if Ntobeko will still be on the roll after Aug 9. But if friends rise to the occasion, as I expect they will, it can still be a resounding triumph even when we lose the actual court battle. Do you meet Poswaⁱⁱ and Kall? Do give my fondest regards and best wishes to all of them for the excellent work they are doing all over the country.

A letter to Victoria Nonyamezelo Mxenge, dated 8 July 1985, see previous page and following pages. Various names mentioned in the letter have been highlighted in yellow highlighter by another hand.

Turning now to you, I must tell you that when an inmate discovered that I intended writing to you, he remarked that I was wasting energy and time, as you are reputed to be a bad correspondent, I brushed him aside by pointing out that those who failed to get your response obviously had nothing worthwhile to say, that even if the rumour were true, this time you would put everything aside and reply.

First, I would like to know just how you have managed over these last three years. I believe that the firm had already grown immensely. I accordingly imagined that you were stretched out almost to the limit when you suddenly found yourself all alone; without the skill and vast experience GMⁱⁱⁱ commanded. Having spent a few years with him on Robben Island, I have a fairly good idea of the precious talents which he so richly possessed. But – from all the accounts I have received, it seems that you are a tough and determined girl, a go-getter. I am confident that you are not only equal to the task of running a big firm, but that you have by now succeeded in expanding it to a legal giant.

The news of your Cape Town adventure with Allan and others will have caught many people unawares. It is the last place where I expected you to become involved, and I was happy indeed when I heard that you did not have to travel down again. Nevertheless, the incident beautifully confirmed the image you have projected in my mind all these years.

Are the children well, and how are they faring with their school work? Where and when did you spend your last holiday? An overseas vacation, if you have a passport, would certainly be a refreshing experience both from the point of view of your own health, and that of the firm. The batteries that keep you going require to be constantly charged and recharged, if you are going to maintain a high standard of performance on professional and wider issues. It would also be an unforgettable experience for you to visit some of the big USA legal firms, some of which have not less than 100 partners each, with computers and well-stocked libraries. Do consider that.

I notice that we now have several lawyers’ organisations: Lawyers for Human Rights,ⁱ Black Lawyers Associationⁱⁱ and the Democratic Lawyers Association.ⁱⁱⁱ To which do you belong? Can you give me some information on the DLA?^iv

Now I would like you to put a few telephone calls on my behalf to some friends over there: my sympathy to Chief Lutuli’s^v son, Sibusiso, and his wife, Wilhelmina, who were attacked at their Gledhow store recently. We wish them a speedy and complete recovery. Last year I wrote to the Old lady, Nokhukhanya;^vi I don’t know whether she ever received the letter as she never responded. Fondest regards to Diliza Mji, Senior,^vii whose impressive contribution in the late 40s and early 50s can never be forgotten. The same sentiments to Diliza Mji, Junior^viii in regard to his current efforts. We are particularly proud of him, Assure attorney Vahed that although I have not seen him for 30 yrs, I think of him and his wife. To Billy Nair^ix just say, “Madiba sends warmest greetings to Thambi and Elsie” and to attorney Bhengu I say “Halala Dlabazana!”^x

In conclusion I want to tell you that Zami^xi and I love you, and we often talk about you when she visits me. We sincerely look forward to seeing you one day. Hope and the future are always before us, mainly because S.A. has produced many men and women of your calibre, who will never allow the flames to die down. Our love and best wishes to you and the children.

Kindly register your reply.

Sincerely, ‘Madiba’

Mrs Nonyamezelo Victoria Mxenge, 503 Damjee Centre, 158 Victoria St, Durban, 4001

To Nolinda Mgabela

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

8.7.85

My dear Nolinda,

Your letter and beautiful photograph, for which I thank you, came when I was thinking of writing to Nongaye. Early last year, I wrote to Khayalethu enquiring, amongst others, about the funeral of your late Mum, your father’s health, and about a few friends. I received no reply from him, and I was quite surprised because I have never heard of a coward in Khwalo’s family. I still want that information and, if he cannot send it to me, then I am confident that you or Nongaye will gladly do so.

With regard to your schooling, I suggest that you immediately apply to a boarding school, like Lovedaleⁱ or Clarkebury,ⁱⁱ where you can continue your studies with less interference. For this purpose, I suggest that you approach some influential person, such as Dr Gilimamba Mahlati,ⁱⁱⁱ to help you with the application for admission.

As far as your school fees and pocket money are concerned, I want you to write without delay, to Dr Beyers Naude, Secretary of the South African Council of Churches, P.O. Box 31190, Braamfontein, 2017. Tell him that you had written to me and that I would like them to help you with your matric and university fees.

Your letter should state that your mother, who was detained several times, died last year shortly after your father, Malcomess Mgabela, had returned after serving 18 years on Robben Island for a political offence. Because of his long imprisonment, and present harassment, he has been unable to save funds for the education of the children. At his age and with his views, it is almost impossible for him to get employment. It is for these reasons that you have no other way but to ask the SACC^iv for help. You must indicate the standard you are doing at present and the school in which you are a pupil. Let Khayalethu and Nongaye help you in writing the letter and make sure that you include all the points mentioned above.

How is Mkhozi Khwalo? I sincerely hope that he is back home and that his blood pressure is under control. Give him my best regards.

Once more I would like you to know that I am grateful to you for your lovely letter and beautiful photo. I hope to hear from you again. From the photo you appear to be an attractive young lady, and I suspect that the boys are going to worry you. What is important, at the present moment, is your education. It would be advisable for you not to have any serious affair until you complete your legal studies.

Meantime, I send my love and fondest regards to you, Nongaye, Khayaletu, Nosizwe and Ntomboyise.

Sincerely,

Tataⁱ

Miss Nolinda Mgabela, 8235, Mdantsane, 5219

Do register all your letters to me, as well as that to Dr Naude

Nelson Mandela’s health became the subject of widespread public discussion and concern in late 1985 when it became known that he had been admitted to a Cape Town hospital for prostate surgery.

During the preceding twenty years he had been admitted to hospital for minor and short procedures, but this was different. He was sixty-seven years old and the idea that he could die in prison was as alarming to the regime as to his family and supporters.

He was admitted to the Volks Hospital in a leafy suburb close to the city centre on Sunday 3 November. He and his family had assembled an impressive array of trusted medical practitioners to watch over him and the procedure.

Significantly, he had ‘a surprising and unexpected visitor,⁵⁹ the then minister of justice, Kobie Coetsee. Although Mandela had written to Coetsee asking for a meeting to discuss potential talks between the government and the ANC, he had not expected to see him in the hospital. Their first conversation was confined to pleasantries but Mandela did broach the subject of his wife whose home of banishment in Brandfort had been firebombed when she was away in Johannesburg for medical treatment. The house was repaired and the police were making attempts to have her return there, to a dangerous situation. He asked Coetsee to allow her to remain in Johannesburg.⁶⁰

Coetsee became a crucial connection in talks Mandela began with a government team the following year. These exploratory talks were planned to investigate whether the government could enter into formal negotiations with the ANC about the end of white minority rule.

The meeting with Coetsee could also have been the catalyst for his separation from his comrades when he returned to Pollsmoor on 23 November. From that time, they had to make official requests to see each other after having spent almost every day of the last almost twenty-two years together. Mandela suspected that it was so that the meetings with government could begin.⁶¹ Finally, in May 1986, he began what became a long series of meetings with Coetsee and other government officials – the precursor to eventually full-blown talks between the apartheid regime and the ANC after his release from prison in 1990.

To the University of South Africa

Student no. 240-094-4

15.10.85

The Registrar (Academic),

University of South Africa,

PO Box 392, Pretoria 0001

Dear Sir,

I am compelled to request you to allow me to write the October/November examinations in five subjects in January 1986.

I had intended having an operationⁱ immediately after I had written the examinations. But I was advised on medical grounds to do so without further delay, an advice which I accepted.

As a general rule, and probably for security reasons, the Department of Prisons does not advise a prisoner of the actual date when an operation will be made. But on 29 September, and after consultation with the medical team which will conduct the operation, it was indicated that this would be done during the week commencing on 7 October. I then suspended my preparations for the examinations in the hope that I would apply for a special aegrotat in due course.

Later I was informed that the operation had been postponed to the end of this month or beginning of November. I then resumed preparations for the examinations but I was, at the same time, subjected to a series of medical tests and consultations which affected my concentration and disrupted my preparations. [For] these reasons, I must request you to permit me to write the examinations next January.

Enclosed please find [a] medical certificate issued by Dr. Stoch, District Surgeon of Wynberg, in support of the application.

Yours faithfully,

[Signed NRMandela]

To Winnie Mandela,ⁱ his wife

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

5.12.85

My darling Mum,

You have been in my thoughts ever since your last visit to Volks Hospital.ⁱⁱ Even then, I could easily notice the ravages of growing pressures & strains right across your beautiful face. In normal times I would have been at your bedside, holding your warm hand & caressing your pains. I sincerely hope that you will be able to rest for some time now. You have done remarkably well & nobody can justly blame you if you take things easy for some time. Remember, we all love you & wish you a speedy recovery.

Tons & tons of love & a million kisses. Affectionately, Madiba

[Greeting card with the printed words:]

Hope that each day

brings something happy . . .

sunshine through your window,

friendly smiles,

some pleasant news,

whatever will make

the time pass quickly

until you feel better again!

To Dr. Dumisani Mzamane, medical doctor and friend

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

17.12.85

Dear Dumisani,

I was discharged from Volkshospital on 23rd November, and I am still undergoing post-operative treatment. I am on

Folic Acid	1 three times a day
Brewer’s Yeast	1 three times a day
Ferrus Sulphate	2 three times a day
Bactrim	1 two times a day
Plus
40ml Isoptin	twice a day

The cut has completely healed and the scar is hardly noticeable. Last week the blood unit of the Conradie State Hospital examined my blood sample and the results were as follows.

Haemoglobin	13,0
White cells blood count	4,7

Throughout the entire period of my hospitalisation the urologist, Dr Loubscher, visited me twice a day, and the specialist physician, Dr Shapiro, once a day. They are presently coordinating arrangements for a further check-up and, should there be any unexpected developments (which I much doubt), I will keep you informed.

Your friend and District Surgeon, Dr Stoch, is away on three months’ holiday. I had a long consultation with him on the day before he left, in the course of which he explained patiently, and as fully as was possible, the purpose of the present treatment. Dr Brand, who retired from the District Surgeon’s office a few months ago, will act in Dr Stoch’s absence. He also spent quite some time with me and we are in daily contact. For the moment that is the score.

I must add that I was more than delighted to discover only recently that Woody was the Chairman of the Hospital Board, and his stand on a matter that concerned us all was indeed magnificent. My congratulations to him and fondest regards to his family, as well as to your matron-in-chief (African) even though I have not had the pleasure of meeting her. But I must conclude this note by hoping that hardly anyone of us remains unmoved when she/he thinks of Lesedi.ⁱ That institution represents far more than the buildings, installations and equipment that bear its name. It is a symbol and a very fond dream, and Ntathoⁱⁱ must be warmly complimented for the excellent pioneering work. It was also a source of pride and joy to know that you are closely associated with so significant an experiment. My congratulations to you, your matron-in-chief and the entire nursing, administrative staff and the labour force.

Love and fondest regards to Sallyⁱⁱⁱ & Ntatho, Dr Gecelter^iv and family and, of course to you and your family.

Sincerely,

Madiba

P.S. Kindly remind Winnie that there are many visitors on Xmas Day and I would urge her to be here not later than 8.45 am to make it fairly easy for the official in charge. Regards to Dr Matseke and family.

Madiba

[Envelope]

Dr Dumisani Mzamane,

Nephrological Unit,

Baragwanath Hospital,

Potchefstroom Road,

JOHANNESBURG.

2001

To the commissioner of prisons

[Translated from Afrikaans]

[telex stamp dated 1986-02-04]

Confidential

Commissioner of Prisons

[AK?] Security Services

Thank-you letters 913ⁱ

913 has permission to write thank-you letters to the doctors who took care of him before and after his hospitalization.

He would like to write to the following people.

Dr Jack Baron: The doctor who did the “scan”

Dr Nthato Motlanaⁱⁱ one of the designated doctors

Dr L Gecelter urologist from Johannesburg who acted as an observer during the operation

Dr Dumisani Mzamane, one of the doctors designated by the family

Dr C J Dekenah the anaesthetist

Prof A B Bull anaesthetist

Prof G Chisholm and Dr van Edenburgh from Scotland who also acted as an observer

Dr WM Laubscher the urologist who conducted the surgery

Dr P Turner the Medical Superintendent of the Volks Hospital

Dr Norman Shapiro the internist who, according to him, looked after him before and after the operation

Dr SW Stoch Head District Surgeon of Wynberg

Dr R Schapera the State Pathologist of Conradie Hospital

The content of the letters reads as follows:

Dear …….

I delayed in the writing of this note in the hope that it would be accompanied by a suitable present coming direct from me, in appreciation of your attendance during my operation at Volks Hospital in Cape Town on November 3, 1985.

Unfortunately I encountered insurmountable problems in this regard and, much as I tried, this hope simply could not be realised.

But I must assure you that my sense of gratitude is deep and complete, and I will always think of you in this spirit.

Meantime, please accept my fondest regards to you and your family.

Sincerely,

Mr Mandela

Vrystelling van die brief word aanbeveleⁱ

Bevelvoerende Offisierⁱⁱ

Brig FC Munro

The first two paragraphs in this, one of Mandela’s most seminal prison letters, signals his absolute faith in his chosen path of political activism and becoming a freedom fighter to win change in the country of his birth. He would have been writing this letter to Joy Motsieloa in his small single cell at Pollsmoor Prison, aware that outside its walls the country was in many parts literally burning.

Since September 1980 he and his comrades had been allowed access to newspapers and radio news, and by the mid-1980s they would have been fully informed of the events unfolding in South Africa. An upsurge in anti-apartheid activity in response to President P. W. Botha’s establishment of a tricameral parliament with separate chambers for whites, coloureds and Indians – and nothing for Africans – in 1983 had given birth to a powerful new organisation, the United Democratic Front.

In 1985 the ANC in exile called upon South Africans to make black neighbourhoods ‘ungovernable’. In July the same year the ‘Pollsmoor March’ was planned for activists to march on the prison and to ‘free’ Nelson Mandela. Although thousands of protesters set off from Cape Town on the march to Pollsmoor Prison on 28 August 1985, the iron fist of the apartheid regime crushed this march before it got anywhere near the prison and that day nine activists were killed, with a further nineteen people dead by the end of the week. This led to widespread protests throughout Cape Town for the rest of the year.

As Mandela was writing this letter activists were being detained en masse, kidnapped, and murdered. Six months earlier, Victoria Mxenge, one of the friends he wrote to from prison (see his letter from 8 July 1985, page 471) was assassinated by a man paid by apartheid security forces. The country was under a State of Emergency, in effect martial law. Severe restrictions were in place to prevent the media from reporting on the action of the security police.

To Joy Motsieloa, his friend

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

17.2. 86

Dear Joy,

When a man commits himself to the type of life he has lived for 45 years, even though he may well have been aware from the outset of all the attendant hazards, the actual course of events and the precise manner in which they would influence his life could never have been clearly foreseeable in every respect.

If I had been able to foresee all that has since happened, I would certainly have made the same decision, so I believe at least. But that decision would certainly have been far more daunting, and some of the tragedies which subsequently followed would have melted whatever traces of steel were inside me. The death of your beloveds and your intimate friends to whom you are linked by countless ties, some going back for several decades; the wide variety of problems to which your family would be exposed in your absence, are personal disasters which are often difficult to endure and, on most occasions, leaving you wondering whether in this kind of life one should have a family, raise children and make firm friendships.

There have been many occasions on which such thoughts have crossed the mind. The death of your brother, Gabula,ⁱ was one of those painful moments. The report literally paralysed me; I could write neither to you or to Zozo, I was not certain whether the old people were still alive or not and, if so, what their address was. All that I could do in my circumstances was to retire to the privacy of the cell, heavily stunned by the knowledge that I would never see him again. I, however, felt relieved when I thought of the happy days we spent together and his wonderful sense of humour.

Later as the turmoil inside me slowly began clearing away, I succeeded in rationalising the situation, and consoled myself with the belief that a man of his positive outlook would like to be remembered through his constructive efforts, which were fairly substantial, and for the joy and laughter he brought to those around him. I have missed him ever since.

Kepu,ⁱⁱ who has been corresponding with me since our Robben Island days, informed me by telegram about the death of Thandi,ⁱⁱⁱ and I sent a message of sympathy to the family.

Last year Vuyiswaⁱ sent me a birthday telegram and, in response to my letter of thanks, she wrote me a [?] letter which I value very much. She wrote on a piece of paper she probably retrieved from a waste paper basket. On the reverse side it was criss-crossed by untidy roneoedⁱⁱ particulars. But the actual letter was, notwithstanding, warm and sweet, and its total lack of formality made it somewhat unique. She seems to be a tremendous person and I look forward to seeing her in the flesh one day.

When I visited London in June 1962 I thought of you and Jimmy,ⁱⁱⁱ but the visit was a secret and highly packed one and I was unfortunately unable to contact many people I would have liked to see. Until I got Vuyiswa’s letter I did not know that you were in Mogadishu^iv and Jimmy in Scandinavia. I hope you find a lot of pleasure and satisfaction in your respective occupations, although I imagine that you probably do a lot of travelling. How many children have you got and what are they doing? When last did you come home? Remember that we think of you and your Jimmy. Meantime, we send you our fondest regards and best wishes.

Sincerely,

Madiba

P.S. Should you ever forget the above address or wish not to use it, send the letters by registered post to P.O. Box 728 Johannesburg, 2000

[Envelope]

Mrs Joy Motsieloa,

United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees,

P.O. Box 2925.

MOGADISHU

Somalia

Tukwini, Dumani, and Kweku, his grandchildren and children of his eldest daughter Makaziwe Mandelaⁱ

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

To Tukwini, Dumani and Kweku,

I miss you very much and think of you always. Tons and tons of love and a million kisses.

From Khulu,

Pollsmoor Maximum

P/B X4, Tokai, 7966

Envelope:

Tukwini, Dumani and Kweku

429 North Pleasant St.,

Appt # 108

Amherst, MA 01002

U.S.A

To Michael Dingake,ⁱⁱ friend, comrade and former fellow prisoner

D220/82

24.4.86

Dear Tlou,ⁱⁱⁱ

This letter to Rakgadi^iv was returned by the Post Office in Gaborone^v marked “Box Closed”. Please ensure that it reaches her, and thereafter kindly inform me by registered letter of the results of your efforts.

This is a special letter strictly confined to the above message. But I must, at least, tell you that you, Ednaⁱ and the young ladyⁱⁱ are always in my thoughts. When Ntathoⁱⁱⁱ came last year I literally interrogated him on you. I sincerely hope that your health is sound and that you still find some time for jogging. Do let me know about the university and the young lady in your reply.

Fondest regards and best wishes to Quett,^iv Gaositwe,^v Sefton,^vi Tloome,^vii Martha, Ishy,^viii Nana & hubby,^ix Dan, Edna & last, but not least, to you.

Very sincerely,

Madiba

To K. D. Matanzima,^x his nephew, a Thembu chief, and chief minister of the Transkei

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

19.5.86

Ngubengcuka,^xi

The Department of Prisons informs me that you will in no circumstances come to Cape Town to see me, because I grossly insulted you when I refused your request to visit me last year.

I have on several occasions in the past expressly warned you against using our relationship to involve me and my organisation in Bantustan politics, and I will not allow you to do so.

But I am disturbed by recent press reports which indicate the existence of a tragic turmoil in family affairs.ⁱ It has distressed me even more to discover from your reaction that this state of affairs no longer moves you. I sincerely hope that wiser counsels will ultimately prevail, and that you will in due course reconsider your decision, so that we can at least contain the simmering anger and bitterness. Had it not been for my current circumstances I would long have come down, as I did in 1955, to discuss these problems with you. When conditions change for the better I will certainly arrange to see you, and I only hope that an attempt to resolve the matter will then still be timely and fruitful.

I need hardly remind you that our political beliefs differ most radically, and it is my duty to remind you of this fact whenever you tend to ignore it. But I still regard you as an important member of the family whose friendship and co-operation is essential for the preservation of family unity and peace. I will not consciously insult or belittle you, or any other person for that matter. But I must stress with all the emphasis at my command that a public figure, whether – as you would put it – he is a “dangerous revolutionary”, or a mere Bantustan leader, who allows his image to be so severely dented by recrimination, touchiness and intemperate language is no model for my own approach to people and problems.

Fondest regards and best wishes to you, Bambilanga,ⁱⁱ Mzimvubu,ⁱⁱⁱ Ngangomhlaba,^iv Zwelidumile and Wonga. I miss you all. Ngubengcuka!

Very sincerely,

Dalibunga

It is suspected that the dampness of Mandela’s single cell away from the sunshine of the roof of Pollsmoor Prison contributed to the illness that permanently removed him from that prison. Almost a year before he fell ill with tuberculosis, he petitioned the authorities about what he saw as a threat to his health.

To the head of prison, Pollsmoor Maximum Security Prison

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

6.10.86

Head of Prison

Pollsmoor Maximum Security Prison

Attention: Major Van Sittert

I would like to be transferred, at the earliest possible convenience, from my present cell to the opposite and empty cell across the passage primarily on health grounds.

My present cell has proved to be quite unhealthy and, if I continue staying in it, my health will eventually be impaired. At no time of day does the cell get the natural light, and I am accordingly compelled to keep the electric lights burning throughout the day.

The interior window panes are opaque and thick and the exterior fittings are made of louvre boards, all of which make the cell dark and depressing. Six panes have been removed and the cell becomes unbearable on cold and windy days.

Part of the wall and floor are perpetually damp and, during the ten months of my stay here, I have had to endure this inconvenience. You will readily appreciate, I trust, that it is not desirable that I should be compelled to live under such unwholesome conditions when there is a far better cell right in the same unit in which I could stay with relative comfort.

I must add that the dampness, as well as the metal fittings on the walls, also affect the reception in both the wireless and television set, resulting in uncontrollable flickering on the screen.ⁱ I believe that I would get a better performance in a dry and properly ventilated cell which is not cluttered with metal material. I accordingly suggest that you allow me to move to the opposite cell.

You will recall that on 26 September 1986 I requested an urgent interview with the Commanding Officer, and I would urge you to remind him again about the request. In conclusion, I would like to point out that no explanation has been made to me as to the conditions under which the television set has been made available to

P.T.O. [The letter ends abruptly. We are unsure if the second page was not copied or if it is not held by the National Archives and Records Service of South Africa.]

To Mabel Nontancu Timakwe,ⁱ his sister

[Translated from isiXhosa]

18.2.87

My Beloved Princess,

The years are rolling by. It is difficult to believe that two years have passed since I’ve been here.ⁱⁱ

I’ve been meaning to write to you for a while to thank you for kindly visiting me to bring me great news about home. The population has grown in here; some people are from this country, others from Swaziland and America. The responsibility they bestow upon me (in bringing their problems to me) makes it difficult for me to write to you all as often as my heart desires. I am limited to a few letters a year and am monitored not to exceed the maximum. Since this is the case, I should tell you in just two lines that I am still healthy. I hope you are the same.

I have written to Kholekaⁱⁱⁱ and Leabie^iv and sent the letter to c/o Langa High School, Butterworth.^v I don’t know if the letter will make it to that address. I ask that you and Notsatsumbana visit Mrs Nobandla^vi at House no. 8115, Orlando West, 1804, for a few weeks so you can get “some fresh air”.

Nobandla^vii is a very kind person with lots of love for the family. Here is her telephone number 936-5402. I should be the one asking her for permission for you to visit and am upset I am not able to. I would have also liked for you to go along with my older sister.

Greet brother-in-law Daniel and the rest of the family.

Your brother,

Madiba

To Frieda Matthews,ⁱ friend & wife of his university professor Z. K. Matthews

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

25.2.87

Our dear Rakgadi,ⁱⁱ

You have no idea just what your visit to Pollsmoor has meant to all of us here. A visit to a prisoner always has significance difficult to put into words. Routine is the supreme law of a prison in almost every country in the world, and every day is for all practical purposes like the day before: the same surroundings, same faces, same dialogue, same odour, walls rising to the skies, and the ever-present feeling that outside the prison gates there is an exciting world to which you have no access. A visit from your beloved ones, from friends and even from strangers is always an unforgettable occasion, when that frustrating monotony is broken & the entire world is literally ushered into the cell.

Your visit was typical and it made one feel that, after all, he is still part of the world to which we were born and grew up. It lighted a corner in me and a whole panorama of pleasant memories going as far back as 1939, flashed across the mind. Under different conditions we would have urged you to visit Robben Island, Pretoria, Diepkloof and Kroonstadⁱⁱⁱ to take to them directly the same sentiments you expressed to me. But of course that is not possible. . . .

It pleased us to learn that Kgosie, together with J.J. and company, visited you. That is the field to which a Matthews should be active, and we were happy indeed to know that he is keeping the family tradition alive. I hope he has inherited Bakwe’s^iv excellent gift of wide and disciplined reading. During the Treason Trialⁱ Bakwe had a set pattern from which he rarely deviated. On returning from the case he would chat with the family for some time, have his supper, retire to the bedroom and get stuck to his reading for hours on end. Equally important was the fact that he knew how to absorb what he read and to apply it to his political work. I have missed him and Fiki over the years.

As far as the other grandchildren are concerned, you are mistaken to think that talking about them may bore me. On the contrary, the progress made by children can be very fascinating, even when they are your grandchildren. Admittedly, and having regard to your family background, there is nothing particularly astonishing in your grandchildren reaching out for the stars. The very achievements of their parents and grandparents are in themselves a challenge and an inspiration. But even when making allowance for that, what they have achieved gives a person in prison a fairly clear picture of the far-reaching changes which are taking place in Southern Africa today, and put the social turmoil in this region in perspective.

It would seem that some kind of diaspora is in full swing and children from urban townships and simple country villages alike are scattered all over the world and, in the process, horizons are widened beyond recognition, and new ideas acquired; with this background they return home to an environment not yet ready to accommodate them. This phenomenon is evident in many of the letters we receive and I am happy to note that your grandchildren are right in the centre of this process. I congratulate all of them and send them my fondest regards and best wishes.

I see Walter and othersⁱⁱ now and again and we had a pleasant get together on Boxing Day. We are like a family and share almost everything we have. Naturally, we miss you all and literally crave for the open veld, some fresh air and plenty of sunshine.

Much love, Rakgadi,

Very sincerely,

Nelson

To Kepu Mkentane,ⁱ friend

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

25.2.87

Dear Kepu,

My last letter to you was on 17 February last year. On the same day I wrote to your niece, Joy,ⁱⁱ to express the sympathy of the family on the death of Gabulaⁱⁱⁱ and Thandi. The letter took a long time to reach her; I had addressed it care of Mogadishu^iv only to find [that] she had moved to Sweden. . . . Although she may now work elsewhere, her base will remain in Stockholm and I propose writing to her some time towards the end of the year.

As usual you promptly replied to my letter and supplied me with information I badly needed and for which I thank you. When it comes to correspondence you get some idea just what has happened to our people in South Africa during the past 25 years. There are hardly any men to correspond with. Life-long friends are either dead or out of the country. Many of those who are still in the country cannot be reached and, with perhaps a few notable exceptions, the few that can still be contacted seem to be totally unaware of the fact that letters are meant to be answered. By comparison, women have proved to be far better correspondents, more aware of the needs of prisoners.

Down there, and quite apart from you, I receive regular letters and encouraging sentiments from my sisters, grandchildren, Florence (Nosango) Matanzima,^v and Connie Njongwe.^vi Chiefs Bambilanga^vii and Luvuyo Mtirara from Mpheko^viii have visited me several times. Chief Zwelidumile Joyi from Baziya twice, George Matanzima,^ix his nephew Ngangomhlaba, Mtutuzeli Lujabe once each. There are several others who have been here and who reminded me of old times, but all of them know very little about the value of a simple and informative letter to a friend.

Sobhini Mgudlwa from Qumanco, married to a Mesatywa nurse, lived with us in Orlando West in the late forty’s and early fifties. Have you ever met them and do you know where they are at present? Mr Mvambo, who is now in Pretoria, is he the same man who was once inspector of schools in the Ciskei and who was with us at Fort Hare?ⁱ Am I correct in thinking that he is also your brother? If so, please give him and his wife my regards. Incidentally, Winnie’s telephone number is 936-5402 and you may contact her whenever you feel bored.

Aunt Frieda Matthewsⁱⁱ from Botswana visited me on 22 November and literally brought an entire library for which I am very grateful. Although over 80 years she still looks fresh, strong and with an alert mind. The forty minutes we spent together were most enjoyable.

Many thanks for the beautiful Christmas cards in which you complain that I am quiet. Twelve months’ silence justifies such a complaint, but I must assure you that, in spite of the rapid growth of the family and the host of problems that entails, you and the children are always in my thoughts. You and Kent looked after us during the most difficult period of our imprisonment when many good friends did not consider it safe to remember us. My conscience would torture me even in my grave if, in better days, I chose to forget about you. Do keep well, Kepu; my fondest regards and very best wishes to you and the children.

Very sincerely,

Nelson

To Helen Joseph,ⁱⁱⁱ his friend

Our dear Helen,

1.4.87

Please do not tell me that last yr I forgot to send you birthday greetings. I invariably keep copies of my outgoing correspondence, whether in the form of letters, birthday cards or telegrams. I have just gone through my letter book & despite my firm belief that I sent you the message, I found no record to that effect. But I want to assure you that this time last yr you were constantly in my thoughts, especially because it was your 80th birthday.

After all, a card is of secondary importance; it is no more than a mere expression of how a person feels towards a friend. That love & loyalty to you will always be there whether the card reaches you or not. It was all there in April last yr & it is in this spirit that I send you my warmest congratulations on your 81st birthday. I hope the girls will all be there to rejoice with you. In my last letter to Aminaⁱ I suggested that she should arrange a tea party and invite Muriel,ⁱⁱ Virginia, Catherine, Rahima,ⁱⁱⁱ Bertha,^iv Greta, Onica^v & co. to commemorate praiseworthy efforts and precious contributions – the deathless yrs. Perhaps you can take up the matter with her & Ntsiki? The response may far exceed your expectations. How about it, Helen? By the way, do you still remember my reply when you told me that the late Dr Moroka^vi had celebrated his 92nd birthday? You abhorred the prospect of living till that age. It would seem that the gods want you to drink that cup. Now it is my turn to say that I hope I will not live as long as Helen. How do you like that?

Caroline Mashaba^vii disappointed me very much. When I sent her a letter of sympathy on the death of Andrew, I asked her to give me certain information on him which I needed urgently. Andrew did more than we expected both outside & especially on the Island, & we had a duty to acknowledge that contribution. That was not possible without that information. I cannot understand why she had to be so flat-footed in a matter of this nature. In May last yr, I also wrote to Esther Maleka;^viii until then she was as good a correspondent as you, but I never heard from her again. There was also no response from Onica to my letter of sympathy on the occasion of her mother’s death. I would not want you to actually travel in order to ascertain what happened. But if & when you bump against them do find out if they received the letters. How is Ruth,^ix Sheila^x and others? I trust that they still look after you. Ruth & Sheila are very good children & I am always happy to hear about them. It is, however, not so easy to reconcile myself with the fact that I will never see their parents again – Braam, Molly, Violet & Eli.ⁱ When you see Nadineⁱⁱ do give her my fondest regards & best wishes. She has turned out to be a formidable communicator whose message reaches far beyond the visible horizons. How such girls have become so precious today!

By now you probably know that Aunt Frieda Matthewsⁱⁱⁱ from Botswana paid me a special visit last November & brought along a whole library. Except that she has become shorter, she is in many respects like you. She carries her 81 yrs with much grace & charm & is very strong & alert. I enjoyed the visit very much. I have, however, no hope of seeing you, Amina & Fatima.^iv All my efforts from this side to make such a visit possible have been unsuccessful. But we will always be in touch through correspondence & you will constantly be in my thoughts.

Lastly, I must tell you that I saved a piece of fruit cake which I hope to enjoy as you celebrate in a few days time. Although I have tea leaves & condensed milk I don’t think I will be able to prepare it as well as you make yours. Nevertheless, it will be a very enjoyable moment for me. Have a wonderful time! Love & best wishes.

Very sincerely,

Nelson

When Nelson Mandela was first sent to serve a prison sentence he was the father of five children aged from nearly two years old to seventeen. By the late 1980s he was a grandfather of twelve, with some of his grandchildren living abroad. His relationships with them were stitched together by birthday cards, simple notes, and in the cases of the older ones, extraordinary efforts to help them in their own endeavours at school and university. In this letter to his oldest grandson Mandla, he speaks of assisting his mother and his stepfather. Throughout, Mandela continued his long-distance parenting of his children and their spouses, cajoling and encouraging and in some cases admonishing them, even though they were grown and had children of their own.

To Mandla Mandela,ⁱ his grandson and the son of his son Makgathoⁱⁱ

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

9.7.87

My dear Mzukulu,ⁱⁱⁱ

Why do you not write to me? Did you get the birthday card I sent you?

How are you getting on with your studies? We are trying to get you a scholarship to go to Waterford,^iv and I sincerely hope that you will pass the test for admission.

I am keen to see you and I have told Grandma^v to bring you down so that we can talk about your school work.

Our friends in London have met Mum Rennie^vi and they are helping her to get glasses for her eyes. Uncle Adrian^vii has already got work with a building firm in London.

[I] am sending you R50,00 for pocket money.^viii Please look after it.

Love and fondest regards. Affectionately,

Tatomkhulu^ix

[Envelope]

Mandla Mandela,

c/o Prince Kuzulwandle Dlamini,

Ministry of Education,

MBABANE, Swaziland

To Nandi Mandela,ⁱ granddaughter & eldest daughter of his late son Thembiⁱⁱ

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

17.8.87

My darling Mzukulu,ⁱⁱⁱ

I enjoyed the last visit very much and it is a great pity that one visit is no more than a mere 40 minutes. Even more regrettable is the fact that we may not be able to see each other until early next year, because of the limited number of the remaining visits. But it is just possible that there may be one spare visit towards the end of the year which we could use. I would accordingly suggest that you telephone again, say, during the last week in October to find out whether you and Thumeka^iv could come round. Remember that I love you and it is always a great day when you walk into the visiting room.

As I pointed out during the last visit, 43% and 44% in Economics and Accounting respectively, and bearing in mind the whole background, and that this is your first year, is by no means a bad performance. I am confident that, if you work harder during the next two months, you may be able to overcome, at least, some of your difficulties and improve your over-all performance.

Zindzi^v ought to have been here on 5 August but she never turned up. I sincerely hope that she will be here one of these days. Have you written to Mandla?^vi Tell Mamphela^vii that I fully reciprocate the sentiments she expressed and keenly look forward to seeing her one day. Meantime, I send her my fondest regards and best wishes.

You must tell me a little more about your boyfriend. I never knew until the last visit that he was also at UCT.^viii All you told me a year or two ago was that he was working at Umtata^ix and studying through Unisa.^x

Fondest regards to Herbertⁱ & Nonoⁱⁱ and to your room-mate Pearl Ralei.

Tons and tons of love and a million kisses, darling!

Affectionately,

Khuluⁱⁱⁱ

Miss Nandi Mandela, 718 Tugwell Hall, UCT, Rondebosch, 7700

To Zindzi Mandela,^iv his youngest daughter

D220/82: NELSON MANDELA

31.8.87

My darling Mantu,^v

Somebody I have not seen for the last 25 yrs or so, & whose views I have come to respect a great deal, remarked: “Zindzi is like a rock; nothing seems ever to upset her!” That is just the kind of remark a father would like to hear about his beloved child. I literally swelled with pride & satisfaction.

That remark reached me at the right time, shortly after you had just gone through a rather harrowing experience. As you would suspect, it is not always so easy in my present position to assess the impact of events outside prison. That observation reassured me beyond words. Indeed, when I later met you after that incident, I could notice no visible spiritual scars or disturbance in you.

Please pull yourself together, darling, & be the solid rock you are known to be. The most tragic mistake you could make in this situation is to remain paralysed, waiting for disaster to overwhelm you. The correct attitude is to continue with your set programme – in this case your studies – until conditions beyond your control make it absolutely impossible for you to do so. From all that I hear from you, Mum & the mass media you will certainly not be able to get into stride with your work until you move to a new environment. That is why I hope, even at this late hr, that you may get some accommodation at campus and prepare for the exams on 18 September from there.

Finally, I wish to let you know that I am keeping my fingers crossed, hoping that nothing will happen to you. But if something does happen and you find that you will not be able to pursue your studies, I will risk everything & give full support to a wonderful girl.

Tons and tons of love, darling, & a million kisses.

Affectionately,

Tataⁱ

To Mamphela Ramphele,ⁱⁱ academic and friend

D220: NELSON MANDELA

1.3.88

Dear Mamphela,

The Prisons Department has turned down your application to visit me. No grounds are ever given for such decisions.

Although I was never over-hopeful, I did not rule out the possibility that the impossible might happen, so much so that the refusal disappointed and even shocked me. I will, nevertheless, continue to urge the approval of the visit. But you must be patient; the wheels of government grind very slowly, and it may take several months, and even a year or more, before we get a favourable answer.

Regarding your academic work,ⁱⁱⁱ I informed Nandi^iv that I am definitely interested. But in terms of prison policy I may not receive such material. I will, however, also take up the matter.

The camera has the ability to give one and the same person different faces. Way back in the fifties, I brought up a grand-nephew.^v He left Johannesburg at the age [of] 6, giving the impression that he would be tall and powerful in build. He later occupied a prominent position in the structures which have since the seventies, in particular, mushroomed around us. I saw several of his pictures in the press and now and again he even appeared on television – all of which seemd to confirm my earlier impression. Then last December he walked into the visitors’ room, and I was amazed to discover that he was short and slender, a real flyweight. Had I met him in the street I probably would not have recognised him.

I wonder just how many people are able to make you out at first sight, as you also have been given different faces by the media. The Woman of the Year picture published by The Star differs markedly from the one where the cameraman caught you chatting with Sallyⁱ during the 1986 National Assembly of Women. Those two pictures are, in turn, quite different from the one on the outer cover of the Leadership magazine. The pensive mood in which the picture is cast would make one think that you are not even a distant relative of the first two ladies. However, the portrait seems to be a highly professional work.

The reviews on Cry Tokolohoⁱⁱ are, from this distance, disturbingly confusing. Unfortunately, in my current circumstances, I do not have access to reliable literary publications whose judgment I can trust. It has, therefore, not been possible for me to make any independent assessment. Your own assessment?

Fondest regards and best wishes!

Very sincerely,

Ntateⁱⁱⁱ

P.S. Please forgive me for the mistake in spelling your first name. Your worth remains constant whether the “h” is added or omitted.

Ntate

Dr Mamphela Ramphele

c/o Department of Anthropology

University of Cape Town

Private Bag, Rondebosch

7700

---

NOTES: >Pollsmoor Maximum Security Prison

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Page 432

i           For notes on these individuals, see the glossary.

ii          Mandela was strict about his diet and asked for it to be salt-free.

Page 433

i           He was issued with a new prison number at Pollsmoor Prison (see page xvii for more information about his prison numbers).

ii          Warrant Officer.

iii         Professor Gwendolen M. Carter (1906–91), Canadian–American political scientist and scholar of African affairs. She was a benefactor.

iv         Wife of Patrick Magubela (d. 2009), an MK cadre who was released from Robben Island in 1990.

Page 434

i           Connie Njongwe, wife of Jimmy Njongwe (1919–76), medical doctor, ANC leader, and organiser of the Defiance Campaign (for the Defiance Campaign, see the glossary) in the Eastern Cape – for Jimmy Njongwe, see the glossary.

ii          Mandela brought a case against the Minister of Prisons when documents he handed to his attorney were confiscated.

Page 436

i           Mandela wrote on 2 February 1983 in his prison desk calendar that he was admitted to Woodstock Hospital for surgery on his toe and the back of his head. He does not provide other details.

ii          Leabie Makhutswana Piliso (1930–97), Mandela’s sister.

iii         Bambilanga (also known as Nxeko) is the brother of King Sabata Jonguhlanga Dalindyebo, paramount chief of the Transkei homeland.

iv         In the original letter Mandela uses the isiXhosa word nangamso, which expresses deep gratitude to a person who has gone beyond the call of duty.

v          Possibly Leabie Piliso’s daughter.

Page 437

i           One of Winnie Mandela’s names.

ii          Petrus Johannes de Waal (1932–2001), a lawyer, had a legal practice in Brandfort where he met Winnie Mandela who had been banished to the town. They became friends. He was a friend of justice minister Kobie Coetsee. The couple’s friendship with Winnie Mandela is said to have made an impact on Coetsee who later visited Mandela in hospital in late 1985. Mandela then contacted him about talks with the government which began the following year.

Page 438

i           The Afrikaans word Mandela used is uitsaaiman, which can mean farmer or broadcaster.

Page 439

i           A security prisoner is the same thing as a political prisoner.

Page 440

i           Fatima Meer (1928–2010), writer, academic, and anti-apartheid and women’s rights activist – see the glossary.

Page 441

i           Ben means ‘sister’ in Gujarati.

ii          One of Winnie Mandela’s names.

iii         Swarthmore College, Pennsylvania, United States.

iv         Fatima Meer was a visiting lecturer at Swarthmore College.

v          Professor Gwendolen M. Carter (1906–91), Canadian–American political scientist and scholar of African affairs. She was a benefactor.

vi         Thomas Karis (1919–2017), American academic and author who wrote about South Africa’s political history.

vii        Indira Gandhi (1917–84), prime minister of India.

viii       Mandela was not allowed to write to heads of state.

ix         Fatima and Ismail Meer’s son.

Page 442

i           Amichand Rajbansi (1942–2001), known as the ‘Bengal Tiger’. He formed the National People’s Party in 1981, and was appointed to the tricameral parliament as head of the House of Delegates, a body for South African Indians, by prime minister P. W. Botha in 1984. Prisoners were not allowed to write about political events which is probably why he is using a cricket metaphor.

ii          George Sewpersahd (1936–2007), former president of the Natal Indian Congress and a United Democratic Front activist who campaigned against the tricameral parliament.

iii         Archie Gumede (1914–98), son of Josiah Gumede, a president of the South African Native National Congress (which later became the ANC), was a lawyer and activist in the ANC and the United Democratic Front of which he was a joint president with Oscar Mpetha and Albertina Sisulu – see the glossary.

iv         Dr Farouk Meer, brother of Fatima Meer (for Fatima Meer, see the glossary) and a Natal Indian Congress and United Democratic Front activist.

v          Pat Poovalingam (d. 2009), who also accepted appointment to the South Africa Indian Council.

vi         J is possibly J. N. Reddy, chair of the South African Indian Council initiated by the apartheid regime. Rajbansi later took over chairmanship from Reddy.

vii        Y. S. Chinsamy also joined the South African Indian Council.

viii       Mandela was nominated for the position of chancellor of Natal University.

ix         Makaziwe Mandela (1954–), Mandela’s eldest daughter – see the glossary.

x          Ismail Meer (1918–2000), Fatima’s husband and a lawyer and anti-apartheid activist – see the glossary.

xi         Yusuf Dadoo (1909–83), medical doctor, anti-apartheid activist, and orator. President of South African Indian Congress, deputy to Oliver Tambo on the Revolutionary Council of MK, and chairman of the South African Communist Party – see the glossary. Yusuf Dadoo was commonly known as Mota, short for Motabhai, the Gujarati word for ‘elder brother’. He had been living in exile since 1960.

Page 443

i           Desmond Tutu (1931–), first black archbishop of Cape Town, and his wife Leah Tutu (1933–) – see the glossary for notes on both these individuals.

ii          A telex is a method of communication where teletypewriters are connected to a telephonic network to send messages via radio signals or electricity.

Page 444

i           Trevor Tutu’s wife.

Page 445

i           K. D. Matanzima (1915– 2003), Thembu chief, and chief minister for the Transkei – see the glossary.

ii          Zindziswa Mandela (1960–), Mandela’s youngest daughter – see the glossary.

Page 446

i           Nomzamo Winifred Madikizela-Mandela (1936–) – see the glossary.

ii          K. D. Matanzima (1915– 2003), Mandela’s nephew, a Thembu chief, and chief minister for the Transkei – see the glossary.

iii         Umtata (now called Mthatha) was the capital of the Transkei homeland.

iv         Daily Afrikaans-language newspaper.

v          A reference to him being a descendant of King Ngubengcuka who was also Mandela’s great-great-grandfather.

vi         His wife, Winnie Mandela.

vii        Mandela wrote ‘nephews’ plural but he is referring to King Sabata Jonguhlanga Dalindyebo (1928–86), paramount chief of the Transkei homeland and leader of the Democratic Progressive Party, the opposition party in Transkei which opposed apartheid rule – see the glossary. He fled to Zambia in 1980 after being convicted of violating the dignity of the Transkei’s president K. D. Matanzima.

Page 447

i           ‘Yours obediently’ in isiXhosa.

ii          Dr. Rashid Ahmed Mahmood Salojee (1933–) Transvaal Indian Congress vice president and later ANC member of Parliament and Gauteng Provincial Legislature.

iii         Amina Cachalia (1930–2013), friend and anti-apartheid and women’s rights activist – see the glossary.

Page 450

i           Ismail Meer (1918–2000), a lawyer and anti-apartheid activist – see the glossary.

ii          Kholvad House, an apartment block in downtown Johannesburg where Ismail Meer had an apartment. Mandela writes in Long Walk to Freedom, ‘At Wits I met and became friends with Ismail Meer, J.N. Singh, Ahmed Bhoola, and Ramlal Bhoolia. The centre of this tight-knit community was Ismail’s apartment, Flat 13, Kholvad House, four rooms in a residential building in the centre of the city. There we studied, talked and even danced until the early hours of the morning, and it became a kind of headquarters for young freedom fighters. I sometimes slept there when it was too late to catch the last train back to Orlando.’ (NM, Long Walk to Freedom, p. 105.)

iii         Where Ismail and Fatima Meer lived in the 1950s.

iv         Location of the University of the Witwatersrand where Mandela and Ismail Meer met.

v          Ahmed Bhoola, a Durban lawyer who wrote for the Leader newspaper.

vi         Abdul Karrim Essack, African People’s Democratic Union of Southern Africa and Natal Unity Movement leader who went into exile in the 1950s and died in Tanzania in 1997.

vii        Indian prime minister Indira Gandhi (1917–84) was assassinated on 31 October 1984.

viii       Indira Gandhi.

ix         His wife, Winnie Mandela.

Page 451

i           Rajiv Gandhi (1944–91), one of Indira Gandhi’s sons.

ii          A working-class are outside of Durban, Natal (now KwaZulu-Natal).

iii         Township in Johannesburg.

iv         Working-class area in Johannesburg.

v          He succeeded his mother as prime minister of India.

vi         Rajiv Gandhi’s wife Sonia.

vii        The widow of Sanjay Gandhi, Rajiv’s brother who died in a plane crash in 1980.

viii       Fatima Meer, Ismail Meer’s wife.

ix         Nokhukhanya Luthuli, widow of Chief Albert Luthuli.

Page 452

i           A homeland which was absorbed back into the Eastern Cape province in 1994.

Page 454

i           A statement of the principles of the Congress Alliance (see the glossary), adopted at the Congress of the People in Kliptown, Soweto, on 26 June 1955. The Congress Alliance rallied thousands of volunteers across South Africa to record the demands of the people. The Freedom Charter espoused equal rights for all South Africans regardless of race, along with land reform, improved working and living conditions, the fair distribution of wealth, compulsory education, and fairer laws. It was a powerful tool used in the fight against apartheid.

ii          Mandela wrote twice to Prime Minister H. F. Verwoerd, calling on him to set up a national convention on a non-racial and democratic constitution for South Africa. His letters were ignored.

iii         On 1 May 1950, eighteen people were shot dead by police during a strike over the apartheid regime’s plans to ban the Communist Party.

iv         On 21 March 1961 in Sharpeville, police shot and killed sixty-nine unarmed people protesting against having to carry identity documents which controlled where they could live and work.

Page 455

i           In 1984 Prime Minister P. W. Botha established a tricameral parliament with separate chambers for Indians, coloureds, and whites. The United Democratic Front, which was formed in 1983, mounted nationwide protests against this parliament and its elections. All the protests were met with a violent response by police.

ii          In September 1984 the townships of Boipatong, Bophelong, Evaton, Sebokeng, and Sharpeville in the area known as the Vaal Triangle exploded in protests again rent increases proposed by the black-run town councils. Three township councillors, including the deputy mayor of the Vaal Triangle, Kuzwayo Jacob Dlamini, were killed in mob violence on this day. Five men and one woman who become internationally known as the ‘Sharpeville Six’ were tried, convicted, and sentenced to hang for the killings.

Page 457

i           Formed in 1963 in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, with thirty-two signatory governments and eventually including all of Africa’s fifty-three states excluding Morocco, which withdrew in 1984. It aimed to eradicate all forms of colonialism and white minority rule on the African continent. It also aimed to coordinate and intensify the cooperation of African states to achieve a better life for the people of Africa and to defend the sovereignty, territorial integrity, and independence of African states. It was disbanded on 9 July 2002 by its last chairperson, South African President Thabo Mbeki, and replaced by the African Union.

ii          Originally called the Boycott Movement, the British Anti-Apartheid Movement (AAM) was established in London in 1959 and opposed South Africa’s system of apartheid. It demanded international sanctions against apartheid South Africa and called for its total isolation. In 1988 the AAM organised a pop concert, known as the Free Nelson Mandela Concert, at Wembley Stadium, London, to celebrate Mandela’s seventieth birthday. A second concert, Nelson Mandela: An International Tribute for a Free South Africa, took place there in 1990, two months after Mandela’s release from prison, and was attended by him.

iii         Sidney Robey Leibbrandt (1913–66), the South African heavyweight boxing champion, was led by the German military intelligence under the pseudonym ‘Robert Leibbrand’. He was a South African Boer of German and Irish descent.

Page 458

i           Rivonia trialists imprisoned with Mandela. See the glossary for notes on the individuals other than Mandela. Each prisoner signed their name twice.

Page 459

i           An abbreviated name for the Witwatersrand, a 56-kilometre-long ridge in the Gauteng province of South Africa where Johannesburg is based.

ii          ‘Field’ in Afrikaans.

iii         Mandela is referring to Qunu, Transkei, where he grew up.

Page 460

i           Her husband, the Anglican bishop John Carter.

Page 461

i           Lionel Ngakane (1928–2003), filmmaker, actor. He went into exile in the 1950s and returned to South Africa in 1994.

ii          Chief Albert Luthuli (1898–1967), president-general of the ANC, 1952–67 – see the glossary. Mandela also spelt his name ‘Lutuli’.

iii         Dr Yusuf Dadoo (1909–83), medical doctor, anti-apartheid activist, and orator. President of South African Indian Congress, deputy to Oliver Tambo on the Revolutionary Council of MK, and chairman of the South African Communist Party – see the glossary.

iv         Professor Z. K. Matthews (1901–68), academic, politician, anti-apartheid activist, and ANC member – see the glossary.

v          Moses Kotane (1905–78), ANC member and secretary-general of the South African Communist Party.

vi         Michael Harmel (1915–74), a leading member of the Communist Party. He died in exile in Prague.

vii        Monty Naicker (1910–78), doctor, politician, and anti-apartheid activist – see the glossary. M. P. Naicker (1920–77), anti-apartheid activist, journalist, leader, and organiser for the Natal Indian Congress, South African Communist Party, and the Congress Alliance. The Naickers were not brothers, but comrades.

viii       J. B. Marks (1903–72), ANC member and a leader in the 1952 Defiance Campaign (for the Defiance Campaign, see the glossary).

ix         Dr Silas Modiri Molema (1891–1965), medical doctor and ANC activist.

x          Dr Arthur Elias Letele (1916–65), medical doctor and ANC activist. An accused in the 1956 Treason Trial (for the Treason Trial, see the glossary).

xi         Ruth First (1925–82), journalist and Communist Party and ANC activist. An accused in the 1956 Treason Trial (for the Treason Trial, see the glossary). She went into exile in 1964 and was killed by a parcel bomb sent by apartheid agents while she was living in Mozambique.

xii        Dr. James Jimmy Njongwe (1919–76), medical doctor, ANC leader, and organiser of the Defiance Campaign (for the Defiance Campaign, see the glossary) in the Eastern Cape – for Jimmy Njongwe, see the glossary.

xiii       Rev. James Arthur Calata (1895–1983), a teacher and a priest in the Anglican Church, he was a leading member of the ANC.

xiv       Lilian Ngoyi (1911–80), politician, and anti-apartheid and women’s rights activist – see the glossary.

xv        George Edward Peake (1922–), founding member of the South African Coloured People’s Organisation. Was an accused in the 1956 Treason Trial (for the Treason Trial, see the glossary). He was jailed for two years in 1962 for his involvement in a sabotage plot. He was forced into exile in 1968, where he died.

xvi       Percy John ‘Jack’ Hodgson (1910–77), an accused in the 1956 Treason Trial and a founding member of the ANC’s armed wing, Umkhonto weSizwe. He died in exile.

xvii     Advocate Duma Nokwe (1927–78), political activist and advocate – see the glossary.

Page 462

i           One of Winnie Mandela’s names.

ii          Pascal Shaudi Ngakane (1930–2015), one of Lionel Ngakane’s siblings who was in prison with Mandela.

iii         William Barmey (1902-88), ANC activist and Monzondeki Ngakane’s children. Siblings of Lionel Ngakane.

iv         The Bantu Men’s Social Centre (BMSC), founded in Sophiatown, Johannesburg, in 1924, was an important cultural, social, and political meeting place for black South Africans. Its facilities included a gym and a library, and it hosted boxing matches, political meetings, and dances. Mandela and four others founded the ANC Youth League there in 1944.

v          Dr Max Yergan (1892–1975), the grandson of a slave in the United States, he was stationed in South Africa for eighteen years after World War II as senior secretary of the International Committee of the YCMA.

vi         Initiated by the ANC in December 1951, and launched with the South African Indian Congress on 26 June 1952 against six apartheid laws, the Defiance Campaign Against Unjust Laws (known as the Defiance Campaign for short) involved individuals breaking racist laws such as entering premises reserved for ‘whites only’, breaking curfews, and courting arrest. Mandela was appointed national volunteer-in-chief and Maulvi Cachalia as his deputy. Over 8,500 volunteers were imprisoned for their participation in the Defiance Campaign.

vii        Dr Alfred Bitini Xuma (1893–1962) was the first black South African to become a medical doctor and president-general of the ANC (1940–49).

viii       Defiance Campaign.

Page 463

i           Declared on 30 March 1960 as a response to the Sharpeville Massacre, the 1960 State of Emergency was characterised by mass arrests and the imprisonment of most African leaders. On 8 April 1960 the ANC and Pan Africanist Congress were banned under the Unlawful Organisations Act.

ii          One of Lionel Ngakane’s sisters.

iii         Oliver Reginald Tambo (1917–93), Mandela’s friend, former law partner, and the president of the ANC – see the glossary. His middle name was Reginald and Mandela referred to him as Reggie.

iv         Clifford Morojele was married to Lindi, Lionel Ngakane’s sister.

v          Clifford Morojele worked for the United Nations in Addis Ababa and in Rome, but was not an ambassador. That fact was incorrectly reported in the newspapers at the time. (Sahm Venter in conversation with his son, Morabo Morojele, 14 October 2017.)

Page 464

i           One of Lionel Ngakane’s sisters.

ii          Sheena Duncan (1932–2010), member of Black Sash, an organisation of white middle-class women who protested against apartheid laws and assisted its vicims. Sheena’s mother, Jean Sinclair, had been one of its founding members in 1955.

Page 465

i           City in Eastern Cape province.

ii          Black Sash’s thirtieth anniversary.

Page 466

i           Archibald Jacob Gumede (1914–98) – see the glossary.

ii          Archie Gumede’s clan names.

iii         See his letter on page 468.

iv         Bakwe (Joe) Matthews (1929–2010), political activist and son of Frieda and Z. K. Matthews – see the glossary for these three individuals.

v          The middle name of M. D. Naidoo who was in prison with Mandela on Robben Island.

vi         Mandela is most likely referring to Natal.

vii        Mandela is referring to the African National Congress – khongolose for ‘congress’.

viii       Chief Mangosuthu Buthelezi (1928–), Zulu prince, chief minister of KwaZulu 1972–94, and founder and president of the Inkatha Freedom Party in 1975 – see the glossary. His clan name is Shenge. Mandela is talking about relations with the ANC and Inkatha.

Page 467

i           Harriet Sergeant’s Between the Lines: Conversations in South Africa (London: J. Cape, 1984) was a book that explored the effect of apartheid on South Africans in the 1980s.

ii          This most likely stands for ‘East London’, a city in the Eastern Cape province.

iii         ‘Johannesburg.’

iv         ‘Prime minister’.

v          Charles Duffy (1816–1903) was not the prime minister of Australia but the eighth premier of the Australian state of Victoria. Historical information about Duffy doesn’t suggest that he was sent into exile, and the article Mandela is referring to may be incorrect.

vi         Patrick Donahue.

vii        Morris Leyne.

viii       Michael Ireland succeeded Morris Leyne as attorney-general of Australia.

ix         Thomas Darcy McGee (1825–68) became the minister of agriculture, immigration, and statistics.

x          Thomas McManus.

xi         Thomas Francis Meagher (1823–67) became a cattle baron and the governor of Montana following the American Civil War.

xii        John Mitchel (1815–75), Irish nationalist, author, and journalist who supported the Confederate States of America during the American Civil War. His son, John Purroy Mitchell (1879–1918), later served as mayor of New York City.

xiii       Richard O’Gorman.

Page 469

i           Archibald Jacob Gumede (1914–98) – see the glossary.

ii          Archie Gumede’s clan names.

iii         AJ is Chief Albert Luthuli (1898–1967), president-general of the ANC, 1952–67 – see the glossary – who was killed by a train in July 1967.

iv         Nokhukhanya Luthuli, widow of Chief Albert Luthuli.

v          M. B. Yengwa (1923), ANC member, trade unionist, and Treason trialist (for the Treason Trial, see the glossary).

vi         This is not Winnie Mandela.

vii        The venue for the 1956 Treason Trial (for the Treason Trial, see the glossary).

viii       Dumplings.

ix         Hawu is an isiXhosa and isiZulu expression of disbelief or condemnation. It is pronounced ‘How’. It’s part of conversation so if people were telling stories, it would be natural to respond in that way.

Page 470

i           Archie Gumede was banned for five years in 1963.

ii          A place in Natal.

iii         Mandela is referring to the All in Africa Conference he spoke at in March 1961 and which Archie Gumede attended.

iv         Activists Chota and Choti Motala’s home was in Boom Street, Pietermaritzburg.

v          Moses Mbheki Mncane Mabhida (1923–86), a leader of the South African Congress of Trade Unions and the ANC. He joined the armed struggle and worked for MK in exile.

vi         Dr. Mahomed ‘Chota’ Motala (1921–2005), Natal Indian Congress activist, accused in the 1956 Treason Trial (for the Treason Trial, see the glossary) and friend of Mandela and Walter Sisulu. After democracy he became South Africa’s ambassador to the Kingdom of Morocco.

vii        Dr. Omar Essack, a member of the Natal Indian Congress who practised medicine with Dr. Motala.

viii       S. B. Mugal who travelled with Mandela to see Chief Luthuli.

ix         A town in Ilembe District Municipality in the Natal homeland. Chief Albert Luthuli lived there.

x          He is referring to his arrest in 1962 by police of the homeland of Natal (now where Gumede comes from).

xi         The New Age was an anti-apartheid newspaper which was banned due to its close ties with the ANC. Each time it was banned, the publication would come out under a new title.

xii        He is referring to the New Age.

xiii       New Age.

Page 471

i           A traditional skin worn by Zulu men.

ii          A traditional Zulu dance.

iii         Johannesburg.

iv         Mandela probably is referring to the Tugela River, the largest in the KwaZulu-Natal province.

v          John Langalibale Dube (1871–1946), educator, publisher, editor, writer, and political activist. First president general of the South African Native National Congress (renamed as the ANC in 1923) established in 1912. Established the Zulu Christian Industrial School at Ohlange. Established the first Zulu/English newspaper Ilanga lase Natal (Sun of Natal) in 1904. Opponent of the 1913 Land Act. Member of the executive of the All-African Convention, 1935. Mandela voted at the Ohlange school in 1994 for the first time in his life, and then visited Dube’s grave to report that South Africa was now free.

vi         Mandela is possibly referring to Daniel Simon Lentanka, a journalist and early leader of the ANC.

vii        Walter Rubusana (1958–36), co-founder of the isiXhosa newspaper publication Izwi Labantu, the first black person to be elected to the Cape Council in 1909, and a founding member of the South African Native National Congress in 1912.

viii       The children of Phyllis and M. D. Naidoo, a member of the South African Communist Party and the South African Indian Congress who was imprisoned on Robben Island for five years and was in B Section with Mandela.

Page 472

i           Fatima Meer (1928–2010), friend, professor, author, and anti-apartheid activist – see the glossary.

ii          Victoria Nonyamezelo Mxenge (1942–85), lawyer and anti-apartheid activist. Her husband and law partner Griffiths Mxenge was assassinated in 1981 and days after speaking at the funeral of four United Democratic Front activists killed by the police, she was murdered outside her home. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) report on the assassination of Victoria Mxenge documents that one Marvin Sefako (alias Bongi Raymond Malinga) was allegedly recruited by the security branch and that Brigadier Peter Swanepoel was his handler. Malinga confessed that he had killed Mxenge, claiming that he shot her five times in the chest, but she never fell and that he followed her with an axe and chopped her next to her dining room door. The TRC report contains no indication whether any person had applied for or had been granted amnesty in relation to her murder. (TRC Final Report, volume 2, chapter 3, subsection 28, p. 227.)

iii         A place in Natal.

iv         Pius Nkonzo Langa (1939– 2013), lawyer who was a founding member of the National Association of Democratic Lawyers. In 1994 Mandela appointed him as chief justice of the Constitutional Court of South Africa. He became deputy chief justice in 2001 and was elevated to chief justice in 2005 by President Thabo Mbeki. He retired in October 2009.

Page 474

i           Town in KwaZulu-Natal where Mandela’s friend Ismail Meer lived.

ii          Mandela is most likely referring to Ntsikelelo Poswa, who was a lawyer and is now a judge.

iii         Nonyamezelo’s husband, Griffiths Mxenge.

Page 475

i           A non-government, non-profit organisation established in 1979.

ii          Established in 1976 to oppose the Group Areas permit system.

iii         The National Association of Democratic Lawyers was established in 1987 (note that Mandela’s letter to Victoria Mxenge was written in 1985) and was established by the Black Lawyers Association.

iv         Democratic Lawyers Association.

v          Chief Albert Luthuli (1898–1967), president-general of the ANC, 1952–67 – see the glossary – who was killed by a train in July 1967. Mandela also spelt his name ‘Lutuli’.

vi         Nokhukhanya Luthuli, Chief Luthuli’s widow.

vii        Dilizantaba Mji, physician and president of the Transvaal ANC Youth League in the early 1950s.

viii       Son of Diliza Mji, also a medical doctor and one-time president of the South African Students’ Organisation.

ix         Billy Nair (1929–2008), comrade and MK member who was charged with sabotage in 1963. He was imprisoned in B Section with Mandela on Robben Island and was released in 1984 – see the glossary.

x          ‘Halala’ is a greeting and Dlabazana is probably Bhengu’s clan name.

xi         One of Winnie Mandela’s names.

Page 476

i           Lovedale Missionary Institute in the Ciskei homeland.

ii          Clarkebury Boarding Insitute in the town of Engcobo, Transkei, which Mandela attended as a teenager.

iii         Gilimamba Mahlati, medical doctor and businessman.

iv         South African Council of Churches.

Page 477

i           ‘Father’ in isiXhosa.

Page 478

i           Mandela was admitted to the Volks Hospital in Cape Town on 3 November 1985 for prostate surgery and returned to prison on 23 November 1985.

Page 479

i           Nomzamo Winifred Madikizela-Mandela (1936–) – see the glossary.

ii          Mandela was admitted to the Volks Hospital in Cape Town on 3 November 1985 for prostate surgery and returned to prison on 23 November 1985.

Page 481

i           Lesedi Clinic in Soweto, Johannesburg, founded by Dr. Nthato Motlana.

ii          Nthato Motlana (1925–2008), friend, medical doctor, businessman, and anti-apartheid activist – see the glossary.

iii         Dr Motlana’s wife, Sally.

iv         Mandela’s urologist from Johannesburg.

Page 482

i           Mandela’s prison file number was 913. Prison officials often referred to him as 913 in correspondence with each other.

ii          Nthato Motlana (1925–2008), friend, medical doctor, businessman, and anti-apartheid activist – see the glossary.

Page 483

i           ‘The letter may be released’ in Afrikaans.

ii          ‘Officer Commanding’ in Afrikaans.

Page 484

i           Gabula Mahlasela, Joy Motsieloa’s brother, who visited Mandela at the Fort Prison in Johannesburg while he was awaiting trial in 1962.

ii          Kepu Mkentane, the wife of Lincoln Mkentane, a friend and former university classmate of Mandela’s who became a lawyer.

iii         One of Joy Motsieloa’s relatives.

Page 485

i           Duma Nokwe’s wife Vuyiswa died in South Africa in 2008.

ii          Copies made on a Roneo duplicating machine.

iii         Jimmy Njongwe (1919–76), medical doctor, ANC leader, and organiser of the Defiance Campaign (for the Defiance Campaign, see the glossary) in the Eastern Cape – for Jimmy Njongwe, see the glossary. He was a relative of Joy Motsieloa’s.

iv         The capital of Somalia.

Page 486

i           Makaziwe Mandela (1954–), Mandela’s eldest daughter – see the glossary.

ii          Michael Dingake (1928), ANC member who was convicted for sabotage and imprisoned on Robben Island – see the glossary.

iii         Tlou is Michael Dingake’s clan name.

iv         ‘Sister’ in Setswana. He is referring to Frieda Matthews (1905–98), friend and wife of his university professor Z. K. Matthews – see the glossary for both individuals.

v          Capital of Botswana where the Matthewses lived.

Page 487

i           Edna Dingake, (d. 2009) Michael Dingake’s wife.

ii          The Dingakes’ daughter Goseo Dingake.

iii         Nthato Motlana (1925–2008), friend, medical doctor, businessman, and anti-apartheid activist – see the glossary. He was Edna Dingake’s brother-in-law.

iv         Sir Quett Ketumile Joni Masire (1925–2017), second president of Botswana 1980–98.

v          Dr. Gaositwe Chiepe (1922–), former Botswana cabinet minister.

vi         Mandela’s brother-in-law Sefton Vutela, who was working for the Botswana Book Centre in Gaborone.

vii        Dan Tloome (1919-92), leader of the ANC and the South African Communist Party who was working for the ANC in Botswana, and who spent many decades in exile in Zambia.

viii       Ishmael and Martha Matlhaku, political activists and friends. They went into exile in Botswana.

ix         ANC activists Euphenia and Solly Hlapane, who were refugees in Botswana.

x          K. D. Mantanzima (1915–2003) – see the glossary.

xi         A reference to him being a descendant of King Ngubengcuka who was also Mandela’s great-great-grandfather.

Page 488

i           Mandela could be referring to K. D. Matanzima’s actions regarding King Sabata Jonguhlanga Dalindyebo (1928–86), paramount chief of the Transkei homeland and leader of the Democratic Progressive Party, who fled to Zambia after he was convicted of violating Matanzima’s dignity in 1980 and died there in 1986.

ii          Nxeko (also known as Bambilanga) is the brother of King Sabata Jonguhlanga Dalindyebo, paramount chief of the Transkei homeland.

iii         George Matanzima (1918–2000), K. D. Matanzima’s brother, Transkei leader and chief. While Mandela was at University College of Fort Hare with KD, George studied at nearby Lovedale College.

iv         Chief Ngangomhlaba Matanzima, a relative.

Page 489

i           The Rivonia prisoners at Pollsmoor were allowed to have television sets in 1986. Mandela received one in his cell at Pollsmoor Prison on 1 October 1986.

Page 490

i           Mabel Nontancu Timakwe (1924–2002) – see the glossary.

ii          He’d been at Pollsmoor Prison for almost five years so he is possibly referring to the two years he had been in a single cell there, separate from his comrades.

iii         Mandela’s niece, the daughter of his sister Mabel’s daughter.

iv         His youngest sister.

v          A town in what is now the Eastern Cape province.

vi         His wife, Winnie Mandela.

vii        One of Winnie Mandela’s names.

Page 491

i           Frieda Matthews (1905–98) – see the glossary.

ii          ‘Sister’ in Setswana.

iii         Prisons where other political activists were incarcerated.

iv         Bakwe (Joe) Matthews (1929–2010), political activist and son of Frieda and Z. K. Matthews – see the glossary for these three individuals.

Page 492

i           The Treason Trial (1956–61) was a result of the apartheid government’s attempt to quell the power of the Congress Alliance, a coalition of anti-apartheid organisations. In early-morning raids on 5 December 1956, 156 individuals were arrested and charged with high treason. By the end of the trial in March 1961 all the accused either had the charges withdrawn or, in the case of the last twenty-eight accused (including Mandela), were acquitted.

ii          Walter Sisulu and the other Rivonia trialists imprisoned at Pollsmoor (for Walter Sisulu, see the glossary).

Page 493

i           A friend of Mandela’s.

ii          See his letter on page 484.

iii         Gabula Mahlasela, Joy Motsieloa’s brother, who visited Mandela at the Fort Prison in Johannesburg while he was awaiting trial in 1962.

iv         The capital of Somalia.

v          One of KD Matanzima’s five wives.

vi         Connie Njongwe, wife of Jimmy Njongwe (1919–76), medical doctor, ANC leader, and organiser of the Defiance Campaign (for the Defiance Campaign, see the glossary) in the Eastern Cape – for Jimmy Njongwe, see the glossary.

vii        Nxeko (also known as Bambilanga) is the brother of King Sabata Jonguhlanga Dalindyebo, paramount chief of the Transkei homeland.

viii       A village outside Umtata (now Mthatha) in the Transkei.

ix         George Matanzima (1918–2000), K. D. Matanzima’s brother, Transkei leader and chief. While Mandela was at University College of Fort Hare with KD, George studied at nearby Lovedale College.

Page 494

i           University College of Fort Hare, which he attended in 1939 until 1940 when he was expelled for embarking on protest action.

ii          Frieda Matthews (1905–98), friend and wife of his university professor Z. K. Matthews – see the glossary for both individuals.

iii         Helen Joseph (1905–92), teacher, social worker, and anti-apartheid and women’s rights activist – see the glossary.

Page 495

i           Amina Cachalia (1930–2013), friend and anti-apartheid and women’s rights activist – see the glossary.

ii          Muriel Sodinda, anti-apartheid activist and singer.

iii         Rahima Moosa (1922–93), anti-apartheid activist and one of the leaders of the Women’s March in Pretoria in 1956 to protest the extension of pass laws to women.

iv         Bertha Mashaba (1934–2010), anti-apartheid activist, feminist, and trade unionist. Alternatively he could be referring to Bertha Mkhize (1889–1981), an ANC Women’s Leaguer and a vice-president of the Federation of South African Women.

v          Onica Mashohlane Mashigo from Alexandra township was an ANC activist who participated in many of its important campaigns and boycotts.

vi         James Moroka (1892–1985), medical doctor, politician and anti-apartheid activist, president of the ANC, 1949–52.

vii        The wife of former Robben Island prisoner, Andrew Mashaba.

viii       Sister of ANC activist Tito Maleka, who played a role in taking letters from him to his family during his Africa trip.

ix         Ruth Fischer (1941–) is the eldest of Advocate Bram Fischer’s two daughters.

x          Sheila Weinberg (1945–2004) was the daughter of activists Violet and Eli Weinberg. An activist in her own right, she was detained as a teenager. At the time of her death she was a member of the Gauteng Provincial Legislature.

Page 496

i           Violet and Eli Weinberg. Violet Weinberg was a member of the Communist Party and the ANC. She left South Africa in 1977 to join her husband in exile.

ii          Nadine Gordimer, the South African author.

iii         Frieda Matthews (1905–98), friend and wife of his university professor Z. K. Matthews – see the glossary for both individuals.

iv         Fatima (1928–2010) and Ismail Meer (1918–2000), friends. Fatima was a professor, author, and anti-apartheid activist. Imail was a lawyer and anti-apartheid activist – see the glossary for both these individuals.

Page 497

i           Mandla Zwelivelile Mandela (1974–) – see the glossary.

ii          Makgatho Mandela (1950–2005), Mandela’s second-born son – see the glossary.

iii         ‘Grandchild’ in isiXhosa.

iv         Waterford Kamhlaba school in neighbouring Swaziland.

v          Winnie Mandela.

vi         Rose Rayne Mandela-Perry, known as Rennie, Mandla’s mother. After her marriage to Makgatho Mandela ended, she married Adrian Perry.

vii        Mandla’s stepfather, Adrian Perry.

viii       Mandela received money from family, friends, and supporters.

ix         ‘Grandad’ in isiXhosa.

Page 498

i           Nandi Mandela (1968–) – see the glossary.

ii          Madiba Thembekile (Thembi) Mandela (1945–69), Mandela’s eldest son – see the glossary.

iii         ‘Granddaughter’ in isiXhosa.

iv         K.D. Matanzima’s daughter Tumeka Matanzima.

v          Zinziswa Mandela (1960–), his middle daughter.

vi         Mandla Mandela (1974), son of Mandela’s youngest son Makgatho Mandela and Rose Rayne Mandela, known as Rennie.

vii        Mamphela Ramphele (1947–), anti-apartheid activist and a founding member of the Black Consciousness Movement, medical doctor, academic, and businesswoman – see the glossary.

viii       University of Cape Town.

ix         Umtata (now called Mthatha) was the capital of the Transkei homeland.

x          University of South Africa.

Page 499

i           Herbert Vilakazi (1943–2016), professor of sociology.

ii          Noni Vilakazi. It seems that Mandela may have spelt her name incorrectly.

iii         ‘Granddad’ in isiXhosa.

iv         Zindziswa Mandela (1960–) – see the glossary.

v          One of Zindzi Mandela’s names.

Page 500

i           ‘Father’ in isiXhosa.

ii          Mamphela Ramphele (1947–), anti-apartheid activist and a founding member of the Black Consciousness Movement, medical doctor, academic, and businesswoman – see the glossary.

iii         Ramphele was an academic at the University of Cape Town where Mandela’s granddaughter Nandi was studying.

iv         Nandi Mandela (1968–), granddaughter and the second daughter of his late son Thembi.

v          This is likely to be N. Mtirara.

Page 501

i           This is likely to be Sally Motlana, the wife of Dr. Ntatho Motlana (for Ntatho Motlana, see the glossary).

ii          Mandela is possibly referring to the film Cry Freedom, which came out in 1987 and was about activist Steve Biko (1946–77) who was Mamphela Ramphele’s partner before he was killed. Tokoloho is seSetho for ‘freedom’.

iii         ‘Uncle’ in Setswana, Mamphela Ramphele’s language.