Conversations with Myself (6 page)

20. FROM HIS UNPUBLISHED AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MANUSCRIPT WRITTEN IN PRISON

Duma Nokwe and others gathered at home one night to see me off.
²¹
The young and promising barrister was in his usual jovial mood and as the evening lengthened he became more lucid and loquacious and kept us roaring with laughter. Occasionally he would burst into song – Russian and Chinese – at the same time gesticulating zealously as if conducting an imaginary choir. We sat up until about midnight and as they were leaving the house my daughter Makaziwe, then two years old, awoke and asked me if she could come along with me. Although I had been confined to Johannesburg, pressure of work had allowed me little time to spend with the family and I was well aware of the longing that would eat away their insides as I drifted further and further from them on my way to the Transkei. For some seconds a sense of guilt persecuted me and the excitement about the journey evaporated. I kissed her and put her to bed and, as she dozed away, I was off.

1. FROM HIS UNPUBLISHED AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MANUSCRIPT WRITTEN IN PRISON

In the evening of the third I reached Mthatha, my home town.
¹
Home is home even for those who aspire to serve wider interests and who have established their home of choice in distant regions. The happy lift that seized me as I drove into York Road, the main street, is beyond measure. I had been away for the long stretch of 13 years and although there were no fatted calves and festooned trees to welcome me I felt…like the Returned Wanderer of Biblical fame and looked forward to seeing my mother and humble home, the numerous friends with whom I grew up, that enchanting veld and all the paraphernalia that make up unforgettable days of childhood…I thought I had left the Security Police behind on the Rand and had not suspected that they had spread their tentacles as far afield as my home town. I was still drinking coffee with two chiefs in my room when early next morning my hostess brought in a white gentleman. Without any courtesies he arrogantly asked, ‘Are you Nelson Mandela?’ ‘And who are you?’ I countered. He gave his rank as a detective sergeant and his name. I then asked, ‘May I see your warrant, please?’ He resented my impertinence much more than I detested his own arrogance but after some hesitation he produced his authority. I then told him that I was Nelson Mandela. He requested me to accompany him to the police station and I asked whether I was under arrest to which he replied that I was not. I refused to go. Whereupon he fired a succession of questions while at the same time noting my remarks in his notebook: when did I leave Johannesburg, what places had I visited, how long did I intend remaining in the Transkei, exactly where would I go on leaving the area, did I have a permit to enter the Transkei? I told him where I would stay, that the Transkei was my home and that I did not need a permit to enter it, but refused to answer the other questions. When he left the chiefs criticized me for my abruptness, stressing that I could have answered some of the questions without any risk to myself. I explained that I had done so because of the man’s discourtesy and haughtiness and that I had justly rewarded him for his arrogance. I don’t think I convinced them…Being together with my mother in her home filled me with boyish excitement. At the same time I could not avoid a sense of guilt as my mother was living all alone and 22 miles from the nearest doctor. My sisters and I were each living on their own. Despite the fact that her children tried in their own way to render her financially comfortable, she chose to live an austere life and saving what one child gave her to distribute to any of her other children who happened to be in need. On previous occasions I endeavoured to persuade her to come and live with me in Johannesburg, but she could never face the wrench of leaving the countryside where she had lived all her life…I have often wondered whether a person is justified in neglecting his own family to fight for opportunities for others. Can there be anything more important than looking after your mother approaching the age of 60, building her a dream house, giving her good food, nice clothing and all one’s love? Is politics in such cases not a mere excuse to shirk one’s responsibilities? It is not easy to live with a conscience that raises such questions from time to time. Often I am able to persuade myself that I have done my best at all times to bring a measure of ease and comfort into my mother’s life. Even when at times I am plagued with an uneasy conscience I have to acknowledge that my whole-hearted commitment to the liberation of our people gives meaning to life and yields for me a sense of national pride and real joy. This feeling has been multiplied a hundred times by the knowledge that right up to her last letter she wrote me shortly before her death, my mother encouraged me in my beliefs and in fighting for them.

2. CONVERSATION WITH RICHARD STENGEL

MANDELA: By the way, when I was driving…driving out from Port Elizabeth, it was early in the morning, about ten. It was a hot day and as I was driving – it was quite a bushy area, a little wild area soon after leaving Port Elizabeth – I suddenly come across a snake crossing the road…It was already twisting, you see, because of the heat underneath – he couldn’t bear the heat. And it was twisting but it was too close for me to do anything else, so I, what-you-call, [ran] over it. My heart was sore, you know? Because it jumped up, you know, as it was dying, you see. And I couldn’t do anything; I just didn’t see it, man. Yes, poor chap. And there was no reason
why
I should kill it you know? It was no threat to me, and left me with a very sad feeling.

STENGEL: The snake incident which you mention in the memoirs, were you also superstitious about running over a snake?

MANDELA: No, no, no.

STENGEL: That it was bad luck or a bad omen?

MANDELA: Oh no, no, no. I was not superstitious at all. But just to kill an animal, an innocent reptile, that was what worried me. And especially seeing it through the rear-view mirror, struggling, you know, to be alive. You know, it was a deplorable act on my part. But that was a beautiful area at the time…from Port Elizabeth to Humansdorp. You went through forest, you know, thick forest and where it was
absolutely
quite still, except…the noise of the birds and so on, but very still.
Beautiful
area! And…then wild, you see. Before I got to Knysna, I came across a baboon which crossed the road and stood behind a tree and kept on peeping at me, you know? And I liked… such incidents…Ja, Knysna…I sincerely thought that if God came back to earth he would settle there, you know?

3. FROM A CONVERSATION WITH RICHARD STENGEL

I addressed that meeting of the Ministers’ Interdenominational Society of the Western Cape…It’s difficult now to remember the exact thing, but what I was saying was to stress the
role
of the church in the struggle and to say, that just as the Afrikaners use the pulpit in order to propagate their views, our priests should do exactly the same. And then there was a chap who prayed, Reverend Japhta, who made a very rather remarkable prayer and [he] said, ‘God, we have been praying [to] you, pleading with you, asking you to liberate us.
Now
we are instructing you to liberate us.’ Something along those lines, and I thought that was very significant.

4. FROM HIS UNPUBLISHED AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MANUSCRIPT WRITTEN IN PRISON

Although I was now fully committed and had gained some idea of the hazards that accompanied the life of a freedom fighter, I had not seen any major political campaign by blacks and had not even begun giving serious attention to the question of methods. The sacrifices I was called on to make so far went no further than being absent from the family during weekends mainly, returning home late, travelling to address meetings and condemning government policy.

5. FROM HIS UNPUBLISHED AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL MANUSCRIPT WRITTEN IN PRISON

At that time my eldest son, Madiba [Thembi], was five. One day he asked his mother where I lived. I used to return home late at night and leave early in the morning before he was awake. I missed him a great deal during those busy days. I love playing and chatting with children, giving them a bath, feeding and putting them to bed with a little story, and being away from the family has troubled me throughout my political life. I like relaxing at the house, reading quietly, taking in the sweet smell that comes from the pots, sitting around the table with the family and taking out my wife and children. When you can no longer enjoy these simple pleasures something valuable is taken away from your life and you feel it in your daily work.

6. CONVERSATION WITH RICHARD STENGEL

STENGEL: So let’s get to 1944, when you met Evelyn.
²

MANDELA: Oh, I see, yes.

STENGEL:…You met her obviously through Walter [Sisulu] because she was Walter’s cousin.

MANDELA: Yes, quite.

STENGEL:…Can you tell me about the circumstances that you met her?

MANDELA: Well, I wouldn’t like to go into that matter. You know our people resent us talking about divorce, you know, and so on…I didn’t mind myself…I didn’t want to be presented in a way that omits the dark spots in my life, but I couldn’t convince them, including people like Walter Sisulu. I just couldn’t convince him on that question…because their view is that you are not only telling your life; we want you to be a model around which we are going to build our organisation. Now if I deal with Evelyn here, I will have to tell you why our marriage collapsed, because our marriage
really
collapsed because of differences in politics and I don’t want to [say] that now against a poor woman, you know? Who can’t write her own story and put her own point of view. Although she has been interviewed by people, you see, and she has really distorted what actually happened…And once I start dealing with her, I must give the proper story, the full story. I would like to leave that out.

7. CONVERSATION WITH AHMED KATHRADA

KATHRADA: Now this is about Evelyn.

MANDELA: Uhuh?

KATHRADA: Now
that
you have corrected already. ‘According to Evelyn, when Mandela complained that she was spoiling their son by giving him too much money he took her throat and the boy went to neighbours who came round and found scratches on her neck.’

MANDELA: Mmm!

KATHRADA: Not true?

MANDELA: That’s not true. But what I wonder is
how
I could have not noticed these things.

KATHRADA: You see you have corrected this other thing where ‘Evelyn became a dedicated Jehovah’s Witness and spent much time reading the Bible. Mandela objected that the Bible tamed people’s minds, that the whites had taken the Africans’ land and left them with the Bible.’ You have said, ‘Not true.’

MANDELA: Yes, quite.

KATHRADA: But further on, this thing about ‘taking her by the throat’.

MANDELA: No, definitely say ‘Not true’ for the whole thing.

KATHRADA: Oh, I see.

MANDELA: For the whole thing because there is no question of that, there’s no question of that. I am sure she would have taken me to the police if I had done a thing like that. You know what happened?

KATHRADA: Ah.

MANDELA: We were arguing.

KATHRADA: Ah.

MANDELA: Now she had prepared for this, unknown to me. You remember those stoves, old stoves?

KATHRADA: Aha.

MANDELA: Coal stoves? We had an iron.

KATHRADA: Ja, a poker?

MANDELA: That’s right, a poker.

KATHRADA: Ja.

MANDELA: So she had put this thing in the coal and it was
red
hot and as we were arguing she then
pulled
this thing out, you know, in order to, what-you-call, to
burn
my face. So I caught hold of her and twisted her arm, enough for me to take this thing out.

KATHRADA: The poker away.

MANDELA: That’s all.

8. CONVERSATION WITH AHMED KATHRADA ABOUT THE POTATO BOYCOTT
³

KATHRADA: All right, page 30 [of
Long Walk to Freedom
draft], still the questions from the publisher. Ah, what you are saying here: ‘One of the most successful campaigns also occurred in 1959 and that was the Potato Boycott.’

MANDELA: Yes.

KATHRADA: ‘…It was well known that labour conditions on white farms in the Transvaal were grim but no one knew quite how grim they were until Henry Nxumalo, an intrepid reporter for the magazine posed as a worker himself and then wrote about it…’
⁴
Now you
are
going on with a paragraph or two about the the the Potato Boycott. He is saying, ‘Were you involved in this in any personal way? If you were not, I’d be inclined to
delete
this material.’

MANDELA: Oh.

KATHRADA: That’s what
he’s
saying, although I would disagree with him because I think the Potato Boycott was such an important…

MANDELA: Oh yes, quite.

KATHRADA:…event for us.

MANDELA: Yes. I was…that was in 1959, hey?

KATHRADA: Somewhere there.

MANDELA: Yes, quite. Was it not [19]57?

KATHRADA: No, no…

MANDELA: I remember Lilian [Ngoyi] addressing a meeting with a potato and [s]he says, ‘Look, I will never eat a potato in my life.
⁵
Look at this potato; it looks like a human being…’

KATHRADA: Aha.

MANDELA: And, ‘Because it was fertilised, you see, out of human flesh.’ Something like that. I think that was [19]57, but you may be right – it may have been [19]59…I remember OR [Oliver Tambo],
⁶
[
chuckles
] when the boycott was [on], he bought fish and chips and started eating them. I think it was [Patrick] Mthembu who said, ‘Look at the leading official of the ANC [African National Congress], breaking the boycott.’

KATHRADA: [
laughs
]

MANDELA:…OR was not aware of it and he says, ‘Take this thing away!
Take
it away!’ But he had already eaten it! [
laughs
]

9. CONVERSATION WITH AHMED KATHRADA ABOUT ANDERSON KHUMANI GANYILE’S USE OF TRADITIONAL MEDICINE

MANDELA: Gee whiz, [that] fellow believes in witch doctors. You know, when we took him to Lesotho, I went to fetch him in White City, in Mofolo, and I warned him beforehand that ‘Look, I’ll come at this particular time to pick you up’ because I was in the Treason Trial. So I came very early in the morning, I think about seven o’clock, and he came out of a side room and said, ‘Oh yes’ and he went back. Man, I think he spent about thirty minutes and I got annoyed, you see, and I said, ‘No, just pull him out.’ He was busy having his medicine, washing himself.
Gee
whiz! And by the time he came out he was smelling, you know, like a what-you-call, a meer, a polecat. Smelling [of] all sorts of things, herbs and so on. I was annoyed with that boy.

KATHRADA: Ah.

MANDELA: He kept me for thirty minutes!

KATHRADA: While he was inyanga-ing himself.
⁷

MANDELA: Ja.