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Annamari tripped over the widening crack on the stoep stairs as she hurried towards the house, her breath hanging in clouds in her wake. She pulled off her gloves and fumbled with the door knob. It was getting looser. There was so much that needed fixing. They had discussed it, she and Thys, over and over again but while the house remained more or less in one piece, it would just have to wait.
Things were tough and anyway, she and Thys had agreed when they established Kibbutz Steynspruit that they would live on their kibbutz allowance, like all the other kibbutz members. The little the kibbutz could pay towards the rather complicated “rent-to-own” scheme they had set up in order to transfer ownership of the bulk of Steynspuit farm to Kibbutz Steynspruit was all they had available for extras, if you could call De Wet’s high school fees an extra. It didn’t help of course that this year Kibbutz Steynspruit was paying even less because they needed a new irrigation system, or the fact that last year’s wheat crop had also been far smaller than usual. Drought. And there was nothing they could do about the sagging international wheat price. Or that they had to pay for a high-powered lawyer for the TRC hearing – and might need to pay even more for a lawyer to fight the land claim. So, ja, money was very tight.
Perhaps next year would be easier and they would finally be able to tile the stoep, and even paint the house a little because De Wet would be finished school – if he passed matric. And if he won a Sports Scholarship to Free State University. That would be a huge help. Fortunately, with Steyn now enrolled in the Kibbutz Steynspruit school with all his friends rather than at Driespruitfontein Laerskool like Arno and De Wet had been, they wouldn’t have to pay school fees for him for at least six more years. Perhaps even longer. Everyone knew that the quality of the education at Driespruitfontein Laerskool – and even the high school – was terrible and getting worse. It was so, so sad. She and Thys and Christo and ... and everyone, they had all learned to read and write in the whitewashed stone building. Her mother too. But now, it wasn’t the same. Even Thys was no longer confident it would come right. Annamari was a little concerned that having your mother as your teacher and your father as headmaster might not be the most appropriate situation for a bright child like Steyn. But Thys said it wasn’t all that different to home schooling – and more and more children, particularly white children, were being schooled at home by their parents nowadays.
Annamari pushed the door open and bit her lip when she saw De Wet still ensconced on the couch.
‘Ma. It’s freezing,’ he complained without taking his eyes off the flickering television.
Annamari dragged the door closed, marched quickly to the large TV set and switched it off.
‘Ma, no!’ De Wet protested.
‘You’re supposed to be studying,’ she said and poked at the embers in the grate, before adding another log from the pile next to the stone fireplace. ‘Anyway, watching this lynching only upsets you. If you want to study in the lounge, because it’s nice and warm in here, that’s fine. But not with the TV on.’
‘He was crying, Ma. Hansie was crying. Why are they doing this to him, Ma? After all he’s done for this country? Why are they tearing him apart like this?’
‘He lied, De Wet. He cheated. He took bribes and then he lied about it.’
‘But he never threw any games. He said so. He said he’d made a mistake. He’s sorry about it. You can see how sorry he is. Why won’t they just leave him alone?’
‘Because he’s the South African cricket captain and he used his position to cheat. And then he lied. For years and years...he betrayed his team, his country... even his family.’ She turned away and wiped some imaginary dust off the top of the TV, hoping De Wet wouldn’t notice her burning cheeks.
‘People make mistakes, Ma. That’s what Pa always says. He says when people make mistakes we shouldn’t judge them. We should forgive them. But they won’t forgive Hansie, will they?’
***
‘I wish that whole Hansie Cronje thing would just go away now. Enough is enough,’ Annamari said as she switched off the heater. She clambered into bed, snuggled up against Thys and rubbed her feet against his.
‘Hey!’ Thys yelped. ‘Your feet are like blocks of ice. I feel so sorry for him. It’s like they’re crucifying him – on public television. It’s so... I think it’s cruel to humiliate him like that.’
‘I don’t know. He has betrayed everyone. It’s not only that he cheated. He flipping lied about it. That’s the worst. That’s unforgiveable.’
‘He made a mistake, liefie. A big mistake, but he’s obviously sorry about it and who are we to judge him? Until we have been in his position, faced the temptations he faced... I don’t like what he did but now he has to live with himself knowing that he has messed up his entire life.’
‘And what about De Wet?’ Annamari demanded, propping herself up on one elbow and glaring down at her husband. ‘What about what he’s done to our son and the millions of other young boys who looked up to him, believed in him – wanted to be like him.’
‘Well, I suppose the good thing about all this is that De Wet – all of us really – we’ve all learned a valuable lesson.’
‘Really? And what lesson would that be? Not to cheat and take bribes?’
‘Ja, there’s that, of course. But think about it. Hansie has shown us that even great sports stars are human with human frailties, no matter how much we try to elevate them to the status of idols. We are all raised to believe that we should only worship the Lord and that only the Lord is infallible. But no, what do we do? We create human idols. And when they fall, when they make mistakes – because that’s what people do, we all make mistakes – we turn on them like a pack of dogs and tear them apart. Who are we to blame them when they don’t, or can’t, live up to our expectations? Are we, ourselves, blameless? I pray... I hope that those he has hurt find it in their hearts to forgive him; and that he learns to forgive himself.’
‘Well I don’t think cheats and liars deserve forgiveness,’ she said.
She felt Thys’ eyes boring into hers before his arms reached out and pulled her down onto his broad chest.
‘Everyone deserves forgiveness, liefie. Everyone,’ he said, and kissed her.
***
The next morning, at breakfast, Annamari held her tongue as Thys talked quietly to De Wet about the disgraced South African cricket captain.
‘You need to forgive Hansie, son. Otherwise, you will let your anger get in the way of the rest of your life. It will eat at you and possibly even prevent you from achieving your own dreams. Forgive him, De Wet, and then move on.’
Annamari shook her head and turned away. She didn’t want to argue, not in front of De Wet. Anyway, there were more important things to worry about today than whether Hansie Cronje had really been tempted by the devil, as he had claimed, or whether he was just a good old-fashioned lying cheat.
She gingerly fingered the envelope. It contained her life. Her future. Their future. Using Beauty’s formal, comprehensive instructions as a guide, she, Thys and Petrus had drafted a response to the land claim notice. They had stated that they would fight the claim; that they had proof of ownership of Steynspruit going back to before the Boer War. And they had outlined the whole Kibbutz Steynspruit scheme. According to Petrus, Beauty had said their objection letter was “fine”; so this morning, Annamari was going to take it to the post office in Driespruitfontein, register it and send it to the Free State and Northern Cape Regional Land Claims Commissioner.
Then all they could do was wait. Wait and pray. Although she didn’t have too much faith in prayer. It didn’t seem to be working for her. Beauty was probably correct when she advised Petrus that they should hold off pumping any more money into Steynspruit until they had a better idea of just where the whole land claim thing was going.
‘She said we shouldn’t even consider putting in the new irrigation system but I don’t think we have a choice. The drought doesn’t look like it’s going to end,’ Petrus had said.
The issue was going to be discussed at the kibbutz members’ meeting tomorrow, after the Sunday church service in the Kibbutz multipurpose hall. Annamari had no doubt they would vote overwhelmingly in favour of going ahead with the irrigation system, especially if Petrus advised them to. They simply could not, would not, believe that they could lose the farm.
Annamari didn’t share their naive optimism. Just look at what was going on up there in Zimbabwe with land invasions and white farmers being driven at gunpoint from their homes. The land claim against Steynspruit was just a more sophisticated way for the government to take their home from them. But steal it, they would. Everyone knew that.