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‘Do you think they were telling the truth? Any of them?’
‘No liefie. They were all lying – or at least, not being totally honest. But I think Mr Venter did a great job. Don’t you agree?’
Annamari nodded slowly. ‘Ja, maybe.’
She leaned her head against the seat and gazed at the shadowy landscape flashing by. Lulled by the monotonous hum of the tyres, she stifled a yawn.
‘Sleep if you want, it’s been a really emotional day. It’ll be after midnight by the time we get home,’ Thys said.
Annamari closed her eyes and tried to make sense of the afternoon’s dramatic events. So much for the so-called Truth Commission. After all the shouting and questions and probing and still more questions, the truth, the real truth, about why and how her family had been slaughtered remained shrouded in a thick haze of lies and evasions. That disgusting little murdering rapist had insisted through numerous high-pitched objections and interjections from Afrikaner Ally that he had won the freedom struggle almost on his own and killing the boers on Steynspruit had been a vital element in that struggle and that was the honest truth so help me God.
The smarmy Indian lawyer, Mr Naidoo, had continued to speak over Afrikaner Ally’s objections, insisting that his clients, Mr Buya and Mr Xlongwane, had once again done nothing more than obey instructions from their APLA commanders.
‘My clients, Mr Buya and Mr Xlongwane, were indeed most surprised when Mr Strydom made contact with them again so many, many years after their last transaction,’ Mr Naidoo said. ‘Indeed, it was fortuitous, most fortuitous that my clients, Mr Buya and Mr Xlongwane, were even in Mamelodi when Mr Strydom arrived, out of the blue, wanting to buy another AK47.’
Afrikaner Ally shrieked, Stefan Smit shouted, Tutu-Two barked at them to keep quiet, but Mr Naidoo just carried on without missing a beat. ‘This time, because the targets were proper boers on a proper farm, and because Mr Strydom said they kept many weapons which my clients, Mr Buya and Mr Xlongwane, could ... um... liberate for APLA, they agreed to travel to Steynspruit on the night in question to meet Mr Strydom and collect the weapons that Mr Strydom had told them were stored in the farmhouse. My clients, Mr Buya and Mr Xlongwane, made arrangements to take these weapons across the border into Lesotho where they would hand them over to the APLA command there. But Mr Strydom had deceived them because there were no weapons to be found. Only a shotgun and two hand guns and very little ammunition. But I am getting ahead of myself, my most sincere apologies.’
‘Well, that was true,’ Annamari thought. Her parents had never kept much in the way of firepower on the farm at all. Her father had always said it would only attract unwanted attention. In fact, he had ensured that word was spread throughout the district that Steynspruit only had sufficient weapons for self-defence. Well, he had been wrong about that.
‘All went according to plan,’ Mr Naidoo continued. ‘When my clients, Mr Buya and Mr Xlongwane, arrived at Steynspruit on the night of 15 June, 1989, everything had been prepared. Mr Strydom had cut a hole in the security fence and my clients, Mr Buya and Mr Xlongwane, were able to gain access to the farm. Mr Strydom had also disabled the radio and alarm system; and he had silenced the dogs.’
Annamari heaved. So it had been Stefan Smit who had poisoned the dogs; Stefan Smit who had slit Kaptein’s throat. Thys put his arm around her but she pulled herself upright and spat spears of loathing at the filthy piece of cowardly shit cowering behind his tarty lawyer’s tight skirt. Stefan looked back and his thin lips twisted into a sly grin that spliced his skeletal features, revealing yellowed, broken teeth.
But Afrikaner Ally was up on her high heels once again, squealing that her client had not touched the dogs – that he had no idea what had happened to the dogs until they had been found by the police. ‘He was heartbroken,’ Afrikaner Ally insisted. ‘He loved those dogs.’
‘Like hell he loved them,’ Annamari hissed. ‘He was always kicking them when Ma and Pa weren’t looking. I know. Christo told me.’
Thys patted her hand but she snatched it away and glared at Stefan Smit who winked at her and ran his tongue over his pale bottom lip. Annamari clamped her hand over her mouth and hurtled out her chair, out the door, and across the foyer to the Ladies. Fortunately, the toilet cubicle was unoccupied.
Thys was waiting anxiously for her when she emerged, patting her hands on her skirt.
‘Are you okay, liefie? You look very pale.’
She nodded, mortified that she had not been able to control herself in front of that monster. She hoped Beauty would never find out how weak she had been.
‘The Chairman wants to know if you are able to carry on – or whether you would like an adjournment until tomorrow?’
‘I’m fine. Let’s get this nightmare over with,’ Annamari said and, wiping a drop of water from her chin, she strode back into the hall, praying she wouldn’t trip.
***
Annamari opened her eyes and turned her head towards her husband. His hands rested lightly on the steering wheel, but she could just make out his frown of concentration. This stretch of road could be treacherous at night. Large sections were pitted with an assortment of growing potholes. If they hit one and had to stop to change a tyre, it could be dangerous, especially as Thys had left his little revolver at home. He would not have been able to take it into the hearing. She had read in Die Volksblad just a few weeks ago about a family that had been left stranded for hours on the side of the road after stopping to change a tyre. The good Samaritans who had offered to help them had driven off with their vehicle as well as all their luggage, money and cell phones. Of course, Thys also had to avoid the cows that wandered around the vast seemingly uninhabited landscape and drifted across the unfenced road. Hit one, Annamari knew, and the uninhabited landscape would quickly transform into a seething mass of very angry locals.
‘Thys, do you think we will ever know what really happened? Or do you think they will just keep on lying and lying?’
‘Oh they will keep lying. Probably. Even if one of them does decide to tell the truth one day, how will we know it is the truth? But who knows? They say that the truth will always come out.’
Annamari hoped that wasn’t true. She wanted it to be true for the Steynspruit attack, of course. But sometimes, she knew, it was better if the truth stayed hidden. She prayed that one day Stefan Smit and the others would find it in themselves to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but. Of course she did. But she knew that would never happen. She knew only too well that sometimes a lie just got too big to be reduced to the truth.
‘In John 8:23 it says that the Truth will set you free,’ Thys said. ‘I doubt that was meant to be taken literally, but think about it, isn’t that what this whole amnesty thing is about? Tell the truth and be set free? However, I don’t think John or whoever wrote the bible had the Amnesty Commission in mind when he exhorted us to tell the truth.’ He barked a short laugh and Annamari giggled, although it really wasn’t funny but it was so like Thys to try and distract her.
He reached over and patted her knee. ‘Frankly, I think only the Lord will ever know the truth of what happened on Steynspruit that night. I’m so sorry, liefie.’
They drove on in silence. Annamari’s eyes closed and she was drifting between sleep and wakefulness when Thys spoke again, so quietly, she could barely hear. ‘Oh Lord, if you are listening, forgive us. Forgive us for our lies and deceptions. One day we will all have to face You and account for what we have done. Forgive us.’
Annamari crossed her fingers and turned her head away, blinking rapidly as tears threatened to spill down her burning face. It was so like Thys to pray for sinners. She wondered if Thys was praying for Stefan Smit. She hoped he was. She was sure he was. He could not possibly be praying for all liars. Like her. Could he?