The diary of Maria Tholo - November 2 - December 1 by Carol Hermer

From the book: The Diary of Maria Tholo by Carol Hermer

Maria's Diary, Wednesday, November 3

There was such a nonsense going on over the Tupperware. It was a result of that party I had at the end of August, right in the middle of the riots. The order was delivered last Friday but some of the people didn't have money yet so they said they would pay by the end of the month.

But from Sunday, Angela started coming to the house to get her money and see if people had fetched their things. Nothing had been taken and there was no money, so she left in a huff and next thing she was in and out of my house all day looking in the envelope that I had put aside for the money and going to all the people who had ordered things to tell them that the stuff had arrived and that they must come and pay.

I was really annoyed. I'd had the party partly to help her because I've got a lot of friends. I'd collected the people and now she thought I must go around collecting the money too. Nonsense. They could come and get their stuff when it suited them.

She was such a nuisance. I'd be sitting at home with somebody and she'd walk into the house, rifle through the box, take some­one's parcel and out she'd go. Well, I thought, if she's behaving like this I'm not going to copy her. On Sunday I went to Ruth to tell her stuff had arrived and could she collect it when it suited her. She was at home and too scared to move because of the threat against church going. Their area is a hot one. She'd even locked her gate. I had to wait a long time outside before she even peeped through the window. The children were going from house to house calling people to the meeting, Ruth said she'd fetch the others and they'd be around later. They always do things together. But when I got home Angela was there as usual. She'd been around to them all and was complaining again that no one had arrived yet to fetch things.

That evening we took Mother to work. When we came home Shelley was in a fury. 'Angela was here again to find out if people had come to pay yet.' Well, this was now really getting beyond me. Fortunately we had to go straight out again or I'd have gone over there and said something nasty.

But even worse, when we got home late that night Nomsa was full of dramatics. 'Oh, mama, I don't know whether I should tell you in case you're angry. We were sitting here with Grandfather having prayer time.' Every evening he tells them a Bible story and they sing and have their evening prayer. It's a quiet time and they enjoy it. 'At 9 o'clock Angela marched in. We said, "We are just going to have our prayer now." But she said she'd only be a minute and started ferreting in those boxes again.'

Now I was really cross. Yesterday, she arrived at 7 a.m. I made her wait outside until I had finished dressing. Usually I let her in but not this time. When I was good and ready I went across to her house and spoke to Pete. 'Just ask Angela to keep those boxes at her house. That sitting room is also a bedroom for my father and we don't have space for two big boxes. It's a lot of stuff because I had a big party and there were a lot of orders.' I was pleased I hadn't seen her because we might have crossed words.

I spent the afternoon at Linda's to give Angela plenty of time to collect the stuff. All I wanted was to get home and find the boxes out of my house. We were gossiping about her and her avaricious-ness. I told Linda that I hadn't even put my own money in the box, I was so cross. She was telling me how much Jeff had enjoyed his trip to the Transkei while she was panicking about him back here in Cape Town.

I waited till 5.45 when I thought it would be safe to go home. But just as I was leaving, Angela arrived with Grace. Angela had Linda's parcel with her. She had the cheek to say, 'You know, you people really disappointed me. Look how I have to run around the township delivering these myself. Anyway, if you have the money you can pay me now.'

But that Linda is a cool one. 'Oh, but you shouldn't have worried,' she said. 'You know it's only the 2nd. We were going to pay but we can't pay you. You said that it had to be ticked off in a book at Maria's place. If you like you can leave the parcel here but I must go to Maria to pay.'

Linda was actually very cross. Because of Angela going around, Jeff had got to hear of her purchases and she hadn't wanted him to know. After all, she isn't working so it's his money. It wasn't over yet. I got home to find Ruth waiting in a huff. 'Hey friend, what is this about?' she demanded, showing me a letter. Now Ruth had paid her money and collected her stuff on Sunday but Angela hadn't asked me so she didn't know. She'd written Ruth a long, silly letter saying 'I thought you were a lady but you haven't even come to fetch your things.'

Ruth was so angry; she had come to return them. What was worse, she wanted to cancel the order that had been taken at her party because she wasn't prepared to go through the same non­sense. Well, I tried to cool her down and finally she went off to laugh about the whole thing with Linda. But this time Jeff was home and next thing they were all in the car and back at my place to confront Angela and get it all straightened out.

Angela was at my house as usual, counting, counting away because by now the money didn't balance. I didn't care a damn anymore. If she had left it to me it would have been my responsibility. All I knew was that I wasn't going to pay the R4 that was owing. Finally Jeff laughed, 'The best thing is for you two to go to a witchdoctor to find out who owes it.' Father had to put in, 'To go to a witchdoctor costs R10 so you might as well just pay the R4 that's missing.' Everyone was joking about it but I could see that Angela was hurt.

Well, so was I. Finally Jeff said, 'No Angela, this is your fault. You ticked off money, Maria ticked off money. In business you don't do that.' At least Ruth didn't cancel her order so Angela saved something.

In the end it developed into quite a party. We were talking about the children who have had to come back from boarding school. You know, it's quite pathetic, especially for those widows who've had to pay all that fare. Many parents sent telegrams saying just, 'Come at once,' which their children did, to be told on arrival there had been no death in the family, only a demand from the local comrades. Some got very angry and set about collecting money to go straight back again. Some have gone already. They say the comrades should have stopped them in August but not now, in exam time.

Then we talked about the exam mess here. Gus was supposed to write but he was too scared. Only six people went to write on Monday. Instead of one hundred and something - six! Most of those six don't stay in the townships. They sleep in where they work so what happens here doesn't affect them. But people like Gus couldn't risk it. They would know where he stayed and they would come and do something to our house.

Jeff was telling us stories about the Transkei. As he was one of the drivers, he was in a position to listen to all the conversations and people's opinions. He said that everyone had been warned that when you got to the Transkei there was this R400. Some people on the bus thought that this meant they would each be given four hundred rand. But it was explained that there was a new law in the Transkei that sounded just like Vorster's 90-day detention called the Proclamation R400.

If you stole a cow you were arrested under R400, if you were anti-government you were still under R400.

The funniest story was from Sidney, Ruth's husband. He comes from Nqusha in the Ciskei. All the Ciskei people are cross that Matanzima wants the Ciskei too. They say they are going to have to fight for it in the end and that it'll be just like going back to the Xhosa-Boer wars. Except that only Matanzima has an army.

Then he said that the coloured people he worked with had teased him about that man ordered out of the Transkei parliament at the point of a spear for calling someone 'Your backside', which in Xhosa sounded too terrible. ¹

'Now look at you people,' they were laughing, 'you still have spears. Is that what they are armed with in the Transkei?' Jeff said that even the educated people in the Transkei were rather coarse. You felt that their language needed a bit of smoothening up. He wasn't surprised that someone could come out with a word like that, even in Parliament. It ended up as quite a lively evening.

The teachers haven't been paid yet. Usually they get their money on the 26th but today is the 3rd and it's still not come through. They don't know if it has anything to do with that threat. They are not going to protest because this is just what Mr. Owens wants them to do.

Sunday, November 7

Gus had been promising to take us to High Noon holiday resort for ages and today we wouldn't let him get out of it, even though the weather was not quite clear. We couldn't see everything because of the rain and it was unseasonably cold but we had a very enjoyable braai.

I met some contract workers from Queenstown who work there with the apples. They are busiest during the picking season. We exchanged totem names and they were telling me that they liked being in the Cape. They are quite satisfied with their wages (R68 a fortnight) and with their living quarters.

It was a little after 6 p.m. when we got back. Nomsa had just got out of the car to fetch the key from Angela's house when she was hit by a half brick on the side of her chin. I thought her jaw must have cracked but fortunately she was just bruised. The brick was meant for a man a few yards from her. It was some sort of family quarrel.

Yesterday we had another funeral to go to. What a day. I counted 12 funerals. It was worse than during the worst of the riots. But it was interesting. All the burials were in the same part of the graveyard so we went to visit five of them just to see how other churches conduct things.

They all wore different and colourful uniforms. The Apostolic church wore white. The Zionists had the brightest colours and capes. Their minister looked grand in mauve and white. Two of their young choirgirls were late arriving. I watched them running down the hill, their white robes spread out in the wind. They looked like angels.

The Methodists were in black skirts, red blouses, white collars and caps. The Catholics had black caps and skirts and mauve blouses. Their ministers wore gold and white, with mauve and gold cloaks. There was yet another choir who were all dressed like university graduates.

The funeral we attended wasn't a riot death or anything like that. The man had been ill, but it was still very strange because the people were Jehovah's Witnesses and they had completely turned away from African customs.

We are church people and I have never been brought up to pay attention to the old religion but there are things that are more traditional - that have to do with respect, rather than belief. For example, if I'm with my in-laws I must show respect. If I'm alone I might be walking around with my head bare but if they arrive I cover my head and put something round my waist. It makes them feel happier.

Now this funeral. When a man dies you expect to arrive at the home and find the wife sitting on a low mattress or cushions, laid on the floor. Everything else must have been put away and every­thing is quiet.

But not this time. These people believed that you must take no notice of a death, that crying or anything like that made the devil happy. The custom is also that you are not supposed to drink milk, just black tea or coffee because it is a cup of bitterness or some­thing. But this woman was serving tea with milk and it was she who was doing all the talking.

There were a lot of people there and her in-laws were very insulted and hurt. Usually when there is a disagreement over these matters the relatives come and take the body and do the burial themselves rather than be part of a clumsy funeral. Here they attended, but they were uncomfortable. ²

It's very difficult when people try to mix their religion with the old customs. You can't be both things. We were never brought up with any of these funny things but Gus's family insisted on sacrificing a sheep after we had been married a year to celebrate that I could now drink the milk from the family. I thought it was ridiculous. It wasn't as if they had their own cows in the city. It all came from the same dairy.

They also wanted me to take part in all those rituals when I finally had a baby, but I refused. Their fetishes hadn't helped when I was having trouble keeping a baby so why do it once I was successful.

It's funny, but even the most intelligent and Christian of people have some belief in the old customs. There is a little girl of about two-and-a-half at the creche and she comes to school wearing a filthy cloth neckband. It is supposed to protect her from evil. What is so amazing is that her mother is a teacher and her father a minister of religion.

This got us talking at school about other customs that people keep. There is a strong belief that if your ancestors had great faith in customs and you shun them, your family will catch up with bad luck.

Some churches are so close to the traditional beliefs that they mix their Christian belief with customs. There's an Apostolic church that mixes religion with witchcraft. They have drums going in all-night sessions to drive out evil spirits.

Some people can't help it. I had a friend who was a staunch Catholic but she started going to a witchdoctor because she was seeing spirits and began to foresee the future. I knew she was going because she started to wear white beads round her neck which apprentice witchdoctors wear. ³

Even my mother is not immune to some witchcraft beliefs. I remember when I was a teenager there was a woman who stayed right near us with her two daughters. She was tall, dark and had very beady eyes, and she always looked at me as if she didn't like me.

I don't know what it was about her, but I always had the feeling that she didn't like me. Then I started dreaming about her. They were really awful dreams, and I would wake up screaming, with my parents standing around asking what was wrong.

Now I had a pair of shoes. They were school shoe type, expensive and of very soft leather, but just that sort of shoe that children don't like. I hadn't worn them often because I thought they looked so funny on my feet.

On one of those mornings that I woke up screaming, the woman of my nightmares came to pay us a visit. My mother noticed that her shoes were worn and offered her my new school shoes. Oh, she was delighted. They fitted her perfectly. My mother persuaded her to leave her old shoes with us so that she could explain to my father what had happened. I must say it made me feel very funny seeing that woman's shoes in our house.

But when she came to visit a few days later, my mother said to her, 'You know, you must get out of Maria's dreams and life or I'm going to do something very nasty to you.' The woman looked at me and asked what was wrong, she hadn't done anything. Mother said, 'She always dreams about you and they are not nice dreams and I don't like them one bit. Don't forget I'm a Xhosa like you so get out of her dreams if you don't want trouble.' And that was the last time I dreamed of her.

You see, if you believe in witchcraft you believe that a person can put a spell on you if they possess something of yours. That is why people are afraid to part with any of their old things. Africans never sell their old clothes. My mother had taken the shoes to frighten her. Of course, she also had my shoes, but Mother had made sure she had put her own feet in them so anything she did would hit her as well.

Frogs are also thought of as bearers of evil. There are a lot of things that I am afraid of but nothing more than those. I nearly broke my leg on Saturday morning when I saw one. I had gone to 8 the toilet and had just pulled down my panties and was about to sit when I spotted this small frog staring at me. I gave one jump from the toilet and landed nearly at the back door. Shelley came to my rescue and chased it away.

There are always frogs around here when it rains but the oddest thing is that no one ever sees them first but me. I know it is non­sense but I am really terrified. Imagine a huge woman like me jumping onto a table or standing on the bed screaming.

My friends and mother are no help because they are always going on about being careful of frogs as Africans use them to bewitch a person they dislike. There's a story about a man who once saw a frog in his bedroom. The next thing he was seriously ill and went to hospital.

The belief is that a frog is an outside creature and therefore will not be found inside the house unless it is bringing some kind of evil. Mrs. Z., who used to supervise the NY6 creche, found a frog in her overall at work and it was said that that caused her to fall out with the directors and lose her job.

Thursday, November 11

The police have been seen everywhere this week. It's impossible to count the number of youths who have been arrested. On Monday, really early, when there were still some children arriving, I was outside watching them come in. A group of riot cars came up 108 from the police station. I noticed a young boy coming along NY 6 towards 108. Maybe he was going to the bus stop or into 147, but as soon as he saw the cars, he deviated into one of the nearby houses.

The police cars came to a dead halt and out they ran, after him into the houses. But he was bright enough to get away. He had been wearing a mustard shirt. The policemen came out of the houses with a whole lot of youths, as if they had picked up every­one inside, but a mustard shirt wasn't among them. One poor boy was wearing only a vest. He must have been washing.

A group of charwomen were waiting for the bus and they came rushing in here when they saw the arrests. Everyone was shouting. The police must have decided that they didn't want to see any more youths on the street and that was that. It went on again on Tuesday and yesterday as well. But today it's been dead quiet. Only one van went past and there were some policemen asleep on a foam mattress at the back so they couldn't have been very busy. They must have picked up everyone around.

Sunday, November 14

There was a meeting at the Apostolic church this afternoon. A car with a loudhailer drove around the township announcing it. It boomed out that people needn't worry because there was a permit for this meeting. Nomathubi and Yvette went as usual. They are young and won't miss anything. They enjoy all the excitement of what is going on.

Like everyone else they thought the children had called the meeting but when they arrived they discovered it was Mr. B., on behalf of the community advisors. The very first question that was asked from the platform was where all the money that had been collected was kept, who the treasurer was, and who was doing the collecting. The speaker acted as if he was really sympathetic but the youths saw through him, and as soon as he started on the money issue they moved in a body towards the door and left the people on the stage standing open-mouthed. The meeting just petered out.

There was a celebration at the Methodist church later and this Mr. B. was there. I asked about the meeting and he said, 'Oh, these children are so rude. They just walked out of the meeting and when they do that their parents follow so the meeting was adjourned.'

As we were talking some girls passed by and they said loudly, making sure we could overhear, 'Imagine, informers having the cheek to call a meeting. They think we are fools. They want to pin down who is collecting the money so that they can collect him.'

I said to Gus later that I was sorry I'd been seen talking to B. Those people are poison and if you are seen together someone might think you are pals and passing along information to each other.

It's like that woman who called over the fence to me the other day. She's no friend of mine and there she was, as if we were really close. She called out, 'Hey, things are bad. You never know what's happening. Everybody is working against our children and I believe even ministers are involved in this movement.'

She went on to tell me that she had heard that one could make a lot of money being an informer. Some woman had boasted to her that she could now afford leather coats and bags - real leather things. I couldn't tell whether she was trying to sound out my opinion of things or making the idea of being an informer sound attractive. She is not working, so perhaps she is one of them. She even knew how much they got paid. Evidently it's R40 per person betrayed.

I wasn't about to give her my inner thoughts. I said, 'Well, I pity those people who thrive on other people's pain and blood. They are no better than murderers. I've never known spies who don't end up dead.' That jolted her. I continued, 'Seeing that you know these people you had better warn them that they are running a terrible risk.'

'I know whose daughter you are and you are just as bright as your father,' she said and marched off. Well, I don't know. Nothing is safe anymore. Neither to be informing on this thing nor to be in it.

As for our informer in the church, Yvette told me - she also attends our church - that he was just like the police. He had all their tactics. The other day he was beating his wife. They have got wooden bars across their ceiling and he had tied her up there and was beating her, first one way and as she swung round, he hit her the other way. And he took her out to the bush, just like the police do, and when she came back her clothes were torn and dirty and she had been crying.

Jason washed her off and when he had finished he asked her, 'Well, are you going to leave me again?' She had left him once before but that time she made a real fool of him, just disappeared from her work in Camps Bay while he was waiting for her at a make-believe address. That was because he had beaten her up when he learned of an affair she had had while on a church camping trip.

I was on that trip and when camping you soon learn one another's movements. The affair was the talk of the camp - they were so in love. What made Jason most angry was that she had boasted of a shirt she had bought her lover that had cost her R24, 99 and that was jolly expensive for an African to spend on a present. She still has scars from that beating, but I don't know what she did to deserve this one.

I had to see Nomsa's teacher so I went to Intshinga school. It was deserted of pupils but the teachers were all there, playing cards. One was on watch to see that no inspectors were coming. That's what the inspectors do. They arrive unexpectedly either in the morning or afternoon to try and catch the teachers not working.

Tuesday, November 16

This morning I went over to Nyanga East to see how Isaac was doing. We were in Themba's shop when we heard that the youths were on the march again. Some children had just been let out on bail so they were all out in force. They came past Themba's and tried to get the two little girls who work there to join them.

'Follow us,' they called. 'Are you comrades or what? If you are comrades you must be with us. This is no time to work.' The two children were stunned by this mob. They didn't know what to say. After a while, Themba's mother-in-law answered for them. 'My children, I know nothing. What do you mean "comrades"?' Finally they left after some of them had bought a few suckers and odd sweets but threatened to be back, saying that then the girls must join them.

Today was also Guguletu's turn. Some of my children were fetched very late, so late I was just about to take them home myself. When two girls finally arrived to get the last child it was nearly 5 p.m. and I was really angry. The older one apologised. 'Sorry, but we couldn't come earlier. We were busy at home when a mob of youths came along and said we had to follow them because there was no time to lose. We had to be back marching and having meetings. They were going around collecting all the students.'

Tonight we watched a programme on television called 'Imfundo' ⁴at Ruth's place. It was supposed to be about Bantu Education but it was all a lot of nonsense and didn't give our point of view at all. Everybody was jumping up and down, shouting at the set. There were three lady teachers present and they were furious. Still, we were pleased to see the face of this Major Kriel ⁵we always hear about on the radio.

There was some discussion about Mr. Ngo who has been ap­pointed onto the Cillie Commission. In the beginning he said he was all for the struggle, saying it must go on and all that, and he was even picked up by the police. But the rumour is that he talked his way out of it by saying that to be accepted one must pretend to be part of something, so now people are very suspicious of him. Jason behaved the same way. He was shouting 'Black Power' when all the time we knew he was really for 'White Power'.

Friday, November 26

There was more unrest at the stations on Wednesday. The comrades accosted everybody young who was going to work. They said, 'You can't work. Here we are in a struggle for all of us and in the meantime you're working and making money. You stay right here with us.' They also smashed any liquor they found.

There were no riot squads around, though. There's been a rumour that one of the bus inspectors was stabbed at Nyanga. It's only a rumour but I think it could be true because there was definitely something funny with the buses. On Saturday morning everything was fine but as we came home from town we noticed people crossing the bridge on foot because the buses had stopped on the far side. Nowadays things are moving more slowly so you don't hear right away what has happened.

The police are not only going after students now. I was in the bus yesterday and they were talking about the pass raids that started at the beginning of last week. The women were pointing out a green van that they say belongs to the inspectors. We heard that in the white areas they were stopping any woman coming from work to ask for her pass.

There was a debate in the bus about whether it was right to tip off the pass inspectors. This often happens when two women have a quarrel with one another. One girl was saying that Cape Town wives were running the singles out of town for being in love with their husbands and having them stay over with them at their madams' places.

Well, of course, we wives hit back by asking this girl if she thought it fair to break up a home and family. The talk got so heated that the girl had to shut her mouth fast. There was even talk that these girls used love potions. One woman confirmed this by saying that her sister-in-law had used potions to lure away a married man.

On Monday I saw Rev. N. He said a lot of students have been let out of jail. He was most worried about those who were freed without bail because they could not be trusted. Everyone believed they were coming out as informers. People are really tired now. Even Rev. N., who was one of the keenest, thought things should cool down. He would have liked the children to wait and see if the push towards change came to anything. If it didn't, they could again do something. But the youth didn't agree. They said it was all promises and not coming from the proper source. It was not from the top.

People from the country have been talking about taking their children back there so they can get some schooling. Lulu K. comes from Kentani and she wants to leave her kids there when they go for the summer holidays.

Saturday, November 27

I knew something was going to happen over this weekend because there were so many kids around. They came past the school yesterday - just as we were packing up for the weekend.

We were burning some papers, clearing up a bit and carrying things outside when I saw this mob of kids coming towards 108 from NY 105. What amazed me is that even though meetings have been banned, these kids still find ways of sneaking into a building and having a meeting. Some say that they come by fours, twos, even singly, so you don't know what's happening until they have converged on the building. As long as they know the caretaker they go and fetch the key. They have been meeting at some kind of Baptist church - one that an African started with no white people. It originated in P.E under Limba. ⁶

But I was wrong. There was a huge march in town this morning.

It started with only 150 children and grew to over 1 000. We heard about it for the first time at Joanna's tonight. Gus and I went round there. We hadn't seen them for a long while. A child asked Joanna from her street if she could use the Saturday portion of her weekly train ticket. So she innocently gave her the ticket, thinking the child had to do an errand for her mother. But the mother hadn't even known where the child had gone.

The whole thing was organised secretly. It all tied in with a rumour that the coloureds said not to stop because as soon as they were finished exams they would join us again. We took it lightly when we heard it but after all the latest doings everybody feels once again that 'it's' happening.

Monday, November 29

Yesterday, Gus's galela 7 met at the postmaster's house in the Bishops court 8 of Guguletu. We call it Bishopscourt because of its luxury homes. Not that they are better built or use better bricks than any of the others but they are single houses, not in train formation. There was quite a crowd of people, all-talking. Some of the lady teachers were saying that they saw no real hope of school starting even next year and that the thing had become really tiring. Then we heard that a house had been burned down on Saturday. It was done just after the children came back from town. The furniture was also burned to nothing. They said it was because the children thought the people were informers.

On Saturday one house was burned down. Today, just about lunchtime, we saw riot vans driving from the police station along NY 1 and NY 6 towards Nyanga East and back again. When we looked outside we saw smoke coming from Section 3 near the offices. Then three mothers came running in to fetch their children. I asked what was happening.

'There are riots. The kids are like people who are drunk. They are berserk.'

'What are they doing?'

'They are burning people's houses.'

The first woman thought it was shebeens again.

'Well,' I thought, 'If it's shebeens, this is now final. Nobody will ever, but ever, sell liquor again.'

There were still some babies in the school, mostly those who live at the other end of the township. I decided that if we went in a group to take them home we might be alright. We couldn't let them go on their own because the vans might stop and pick them up.

I looked out to see if it was clear. Streams of youths were coming from the far end of the township, passing across 108 to the other side. You couldn't see nor smell any teargas. The only smell was smoke - black smoke.

We walked up to NY 132 through one of the lanes. People were standing about. There was a pile of smouldering mess in front of one of the houses and standing next to it was Silas, Grace's uncle, the man in whose van we travelled to Fort Hare for Grace's graduation in June.

I was shocked. I said to Margaret, 'Just wait. I know these people. I can't just stand aside like a spectator.'

Margaret came inside with me. The dining room was quite empty. Nothing in the house that had any glass in it was still standing. Except for the dressing table. The only reason they hadn't taken that out was that they would have had to move the bed first and that was too heavy. But they had taken off the blankets and smashed the mirrors of the dressing table.

In the other room too, they had taken all the bedding but left the bed and mattress behind. Everything in the front rooms including the kitchen furniture had been removed. They had had a wall bed, a full dining room suite, a radio and a hi-fi. All that was just ash.

I don't know what they used to set things alight, whether it was petrol or what. The fridge was a husk. Anything they could carry they had brought out. They were a mob. I think the fire excited them. They just threw anything onto it.

There were ashes everywhere. There had been money in the folding bed in the front room. Silas employs a couple of girls because he has three vegetable stands apart from his shop. And that day one of the girls had brought in her money. I overheard people say that the children had stolen some money but you could see a note here and there hadn't been properly burned so they must have just thrown it onto the fire.

The children had moved on by the time we arrived but a police­man was there. He had come to take a statement and had just left another fire at a house in NY 161. He was telling us that those people had recently bought a three-piece, a brand new three-piece, and this Gommagomma stuff. It had arrived Saturday. Nothing left. 'I don't get it,' he said. 'Where are these children? Were they grouped? What were they carrying? What are their ages?' He said that as he had left the police station there had been a report of a fifth fire. In such short succession - and with all the riot squads out. The whole thing must have happened between half-past eleven and three - and then ended.

The policeman went on talking about all the houses that had been burned and he mentioned NY 104, No 6. It didn't register that I recognised the address. I was so interested in listening to him describe all the damages. And wondering what it was all about.

I asked Silas, 'You don't sell liquor at your place. What's the matter?'

'No,' he said, 'it's not that. They say I'm an informer.'

Even the policeman gaped. African policemen won't have anything to do with informers. They say 'It's your own indaba. Be it your own funeral.' They are not even sorry for them. But I don't know where they got that story about Silas.

I was on my way home when I suddenly stopped in the middle of the street, remembering. NY 104, No 6. That's Jason.

Now on Saturday in church Jason had had the guts to join in when people were giving thanks for having lasted through the troubles and everything. Everyone had had a chance to say their thanks. Jason stood up and said, 'I am thanking God for having protected me through all the rumours that have been spread about me. I can't say it's true and I can't say it's false.' And then the worst. 'I want to thank God for having saved us on Thursday because as we were sleeping Zodwa was certain there was a lot of movement outside. She woke up. When I went out back, shadows just scattered in the light. I went to my car and the petrol cap had been broken open. But they hadn't had the time to set the car alight.'

After that confession I said to Zodwa, 'Are you still staying there? I hope at least you have taken your things out.' But she was sure nothing would happen because the police patrolled every night. So much for police protection.

I got over there fast. Zodwa was outside. She said that the comrades had come in a crowd and said to Jason's children. 'We warned your father. Now we've come.' The people who had watched said it was all over so fast. There was such a crowd of them it hadn't taken ten minutes to get the things out. It was quick, quick and the next minute they had the stove from the kitchen and were sprinkling paraffin over everything. And what damage. Even his record collection was twisted as if it was glue.

One thing, Jason was the only one who received real police help. The whole force came to his aid. His clothes were taken out, bundled into the police vans - the few that remained, that is. Even the big van, driven by the white constable, was there. He had come to help pick up the wardrobes, which were left.

Wednesday, December 1

We are living in a state of absolute terror. You are always worried about what you are doing. I don't want to leave anything written lying about or appear too inquisitive about things. You don't trust your own sister or brother or cousin anymore. Look what happened to Jason. He was always being warned. Everyone knew about him. He's not a person who knows how to keep a secret. The reason that it went around that he was an informer is that he tried to recruit others by telling them the pay was good. The crazy thing is that even though Zodwa knew about this she went on staying there. As they say, 'She has no chest.' She must also have spread it around.

She stayed here with us for a while but we had trouble. All sorts of stories were spread around so it was best that she went to stay elsewhere. The slightest remark was built up into a big thing. I won't take her in now that she is homeless. I was even afraid to go there when the house was burning. But you have to rally round. A member of our church was also there and he said, 'With these people you are even scared to help take things out in case others think you are one of them.'

All the people whose houses were burned have been branded informers. It had leaked out that somehow they gave evidence somewhere or other or that someone had been arrested because of something they said.

Poor Silas. After all they did to his house, they went to his shop yesterday and it was the same thing again. His fridges were smashed. He had just recently bought a new van. Now that was suspicious. If you suddenly come into money people don't like it. Anyway, I heard from a woman who was walking that way that he got into his car - I don't know if he was going to call the police or what - but he came cruising past his shop, waiting for the mob to leave. But instead they charged straight at him. He tried to accelerate and rush off but they didn't get out of the way. So he decided he had better get out of the car and run, which was just what they wanted.

Grace said she had never seen anybody so bruised in her life. His back was gaping and so was the back of his head. They all fell on him. He ran as far as the stadium opposite the Luyolo centre and fell there. When he fell they left him. The van was set on fire. Can you beat such destruction?

Evidently Silas's trouble was over that soldier who was shot by his own revolver and stabbed and all that. 10 He's still in critical condition. From what I hear, the soldier was young and boisterous and the youth hated his guts. He used to walk alone from Luyolo to the shopping centre and he frequented Silas's shop more than the others.

They hated him for being so sure of himself that he would walk alone. I believe that's why they attacked him. To cut him down to size. Now because this happened at the shopping centre, Silas had to give a statement to the police. Nobody knows what kind of statement it was. But that was his crime. He was attacked just for giving it. And when they set fire to his house, he swore he was going to get back at them. He is some kind of witchdoctor and they trust his medications so they had to cut him down before he had time to do anything.

It's all so dangerous. Even a six-year-old can be walking around, but he has ears and he'll pass on the message. In fact, these little ones are the most dangerous. They take the message back to big brothers.

Guguletu is inundated with police now. They are spaced around like lampposts. As we were leaving the township yesterday to go shopping there was a group of both white and African policemen on one side of the road. Every car was stopped. This African came towards us and said, 'Show me your passes.' So I said, 'Passes? Nobody carries passes.' He said, 'Quick, anything, a piece of paper. Just give me something and I'll wave it around or they'll come and check properly.' So I gave him my shopping list.

In the evening when I went to fetch Gus from work they were still there - a whole horde of them. They must have come from every station in the district. They were all wearing different uniforms. There were even majors, on foot, with batons. They stopped me again but this time they wanted the key of the boot. They found a batch of books, the New Knowledge series, the ones I'd been given from the Hebrew nursery schools. They asked me if I was a teacher. When I said I was they let me through, but it didn't stop Nomsa from being terrified.

They have arrested so many people. One of the mothers was telling me that she went to bail out her husband who had been arrested for not having his pass on him. When she got to the station they had run out of bail books, so you can imagine how many people were out on bail. They must have made a lot of money.

There's a man in town from Johannesburg. He said that when the riot preparations were worked out long ago in Soweto, some of the students, who had been to university, offered themselves to the security police as informers. And it's these police, who are actually part of the students' movement, who have been giving away the informers now. He also said that what is happening here in Cape Town is nothing compared to Johannesburg. There they are using real bombs. They are damaging buildings. He didn't know how it was ever going to cool off. The parents and every­body have been warned that it is now war.

He said Cape Town's biggest advantage was the dynamite factory, because there were African workers who handled the powder and they could bring out a teaspoonful at a time. He said that if they wanted to be careful they should let only policemen and soldiers work at the factory. But I didn't like the sound of that. If they started bombing houses we would all be unsafe because they are all attached to each other.

The students' latest slogan is 'Everybody get pregnant or we'll be wiped out.' They have been telling mothers to forget about birth control. They said the whites are clever. They even quoted one of the cabinet ministers, P.W. Botha, who said that every Afrikaner should have a child and at the same time intensified birth control for Africans and raised the wages of birth control officers so that they should be all over and stop us from multi­plying. It was a good idea from the economic side, but they said we didn't need it because there wouldn't be any of us left by the end of the riots. You can imagine the state of tension we are all living under. It's no fun here at all. I said to Gus that today was my last day of shopping. There's a rumour that no more deliveries of furniture or luxury goods are going to be allowed through after today.

Commentary

November was dominated by resurgence in student activity, culminating in the attacks upon suspected informers, the investi­gations of the Cillie Commission, and an acrimonious debate between the Regional Director for Bantu Education, Mr. D.H. Owens and various township bodies.

In a 17-page reply sent to all black schools in the Peninsula under the auspices of the Department of Bantu Education, Mr. Owens gave a point-by-point rebuttal of the demands and criticisms presented to him by the students at the September 28 meeting. The reply did not deviate from the acceptable Government policy and was, as the Cape Times put it, 'condescending' in attitude, and filled with statements such as, 'It was obviously impossible to comply with the wayward demand by the scholars that answers to all their grievances should be communicated to them by the regional director at a second mass meeting on October 4.' ¹¹

One must nevertheless sympathise with Mr. Owens for being held responsible for all the ills embodied in the apartheid system; his task was to administer a budget, not set it. Many of the students' grievances such as the demand for colleagues to be charged or released, or the complaint about bottlestores, were beyond the control of the education department.

Owens dealt with the huge growth in numbers of black pupils in the last 20 years (860 000 in 1954 and 4 100 000 in 1976) and corresponding increases in budget (R22m spent on Form V pupils in 1964 as against R135 in 1976). He discussed syllabuses, which he maintained were identical to those in white schools, and the fact that of all the population groups, only blacks had neither free textbooks nor compulsory education, and the changes that were being made in this regard. (On November 5 it was announced that the first step towards compulsory education for blacks was being made and that pupils in Forms 3, 4 and 5 would be supplied with free textbooks as from January 1977.)

But the facts of Bantu Education were as follows: In 1976 R28.56 was being spent on every black scholar while R490 was spent on every white scholar in the Cape. Only 1,6 percent of African schoolteachers had university level qualifications, eight per cent had a Junior Certificate. More than 38 per cent had Standard 6 level or lower. ¹²The black staff-pupil ratio was one to 50 compared to the white one of one to 30. Owens could not alter those facts and figures, only point out what he and his colleagues were trying to do within their limited sphere of responsibility and restricted budget.

Needless to say, township pupils dismissed the reply as vague, evasive and offering nothing tangible. They reiterated that they would be satisfied with nothing less than the educational system of the whites.

The reaction of some parents was similar. They referred to the 17-page statement as 'full of nothing' ¹³and the Lagunya Action Committee rejected it, insisting that though statistics showed some progress had been made, the quality of Bantu Education was low and unsuitable for urban blacks, that school boards were government-nominated and powerless, Bantu Education officials tactless and Mr. Owens's attitude inflexible. ¹⁴In turn, their statement was rejected by Owens.

The students expressed their dissatisfaction by a total boycott of the public examinations for black pupils. As Maria mentioned, only six out of a possible 103 candidates for the Cape Senior Certificate showed up at the examination venue, Langa High School, even though riot police were on the spot to prevent any intimidation.

By November 8, it was apparent that the boycott of the end of the year examinations in Cape Town was total in spite of a threat by Mr. Owens that failure to write would mean having to repeat the whole year. None of the 482 scholars due to write the Standard 8 examinations arrived, nor did more than 2000 Standard Fives. A further threat came from Minister of Bantu Education, M. C. Botha, who warned that he would withdraw government subsidies from black teachers should the boycotting scholars not return to their desks.

While schools in Soweto also showed a nearly 100 per cent stayaway, in Port Elizabeth and the rest of the Eastern Cape examinations continued almost normally, though heavily guarded by police. In the northern Transvaal, a group of students tried to disrupt local examinations by destroying papers and entering classrooms. Several were arrested.

By the end of the month it was clear that a total of 2 000 students had boycotted matric exams throughout the country. Having to admit that the exams had been a failure, the Secretary for Bantu Education announced a compromise solution. Schools were to open early in 1977 and after a crash revision course, pupils who had missed the 1976 examinations would be allowed to write in February.

Though most parents seemed to be going along with the students' demands, the gap between their aspirations and those of the children was growing. As Maria indicated, the adults were tired of the tension and the breakdown in essential services; they were also worried about their children losing the education that most of their efforts had been directed towards. A spot survey of older residents by the Cape Times reflected their concerns. ¹⁵One woman complained that she had to walk five kilometres daily because the buses no longer entered Nyanga township. Other parents mentioned that the only reason they were complying with student demands was that they were afraid. Although no parents or teachers were ever quoted as supporting the principles of Bantu Education or the apartheid system in general, newspaper reports throughout the month indicated increasing tension between scholars and their elders over the continuing protest. One teacher was quoted as saying that 95 per cent of the parents were against the student protest and that 75 per cent of students would return to school if were they not afraid. ¹⁶

Economically, black South Africans were in the worst possible bargaining position for the continuation of protest. It was announced that the most recent survey put the unemployment figure at 610 000 of whom over 500 000 were black. Even that did not take into account illegal residents in the cities, women or new workseekers. Yet these figure, a gross underestimate, amounted to 12 per cent of the total black labour force outside the homelands. Black parents could not afford to use their only weapon - strike - in support of their children.

Comment and controversy over the necessity for change continued in white circles. In a remarkable editorial in the Afrikaans, Nationalist-backed daily, Die Burger, the political columnist, Dawie, asked for full citizenship for all blacks who could not be accommodated in the Transkei-type 'separate freedoms'. He asked for a single state structure. This was in total contradiction to statements made by nationalist politicians, many of who were on the board of the newspaper. ¹⁷

This was echoed by the influential head of the department of sociology at the University of Stellenbosch and five other Stellenbosch professors. ¹⁸Three children of ex-Prime Ministers, all in prominent positions within the Nationalist fold, followed the call for change.

The government remained unmoved. Minister of Defence, P. W. Botha, later to become Prime Minister, warned 'coloured' people not to expect whites to sacrifice their birthright, and that while they should be uplifted, educated and put on a higher living standard, it was not going to be at the whites' expense. ¹⁹

Minister of Justice and Police, Jimmy Kruger, stuck to his guns. 'There is no other option as a solution to our problems but sepa­rate development,' he told Sunday Times reporter, Fleur de Villiers. 'We will have to learn to love it, warts and all, because there is no other option. The only other possibility is one man, one vote and a multiracial parliament. ' ²⁰

And Prime Minister Vorster, at a banquet in his honour in Durban, rededicated himself unequivocally to the path of separate development. As the Argus reported on November 24, in a speech lasting nearly 90 minutes, there was not one hint of change or deviation from existing policy. Yet one minor policy shift had already occurred. It was promised that blacks in the urban areas, with the exception of the Western Cape, would soon be able to own their homes in perpetuity - though not the ground on which the houses stood.

It was a month of trials and inquests. A verdict of justifiable homicide was returned in the inquest of a man and a woman who were shot leaving a looted bottlestore during the riots. They had been carrying bottles. Policemen testified that they had shot at people running out of the bottlestore when they disobeyed orders to stop. ²¹

In another case, a riot policeman testified that he had killed about five people during the September unrest, but he was not sure of the exact circumstances of each death. ²²

Evidence at the trial of two brothers on a charge of public violence during an incident in which a third brother was killed, showed that the dead boy could have been standing on the verandah of his own home when shot. ²³

The Cillie Commission opened its inquiry into the Cape riots on November 15. By the time it closed on December 1, 268 people had given evidence and 196 exhibits, including many bulky government memoranda, had been handed in.

Much of the evidence related to specific incidents and has already been described, but many witnesses spoke of black frustrations and what they believed were the causes behind the riots.

Father Matthew Gormley, official spokesman of the Roman Catholic Church in Cape Town, was one of them. His basic causes as quoted in the Cape Times of November 18 were:

'The system of apartheid which denies to some people their God-given freedom and dignity and equality.

'The continuous implementation of policies and the forceful maintenance of such policies and accompanying laws.

'The tendency of departments of the public service to concen­trate on the implementation of policy to the detriment of their public service.

'The seemingly enormous powers in the hands of officials, against which the African person seems to have no appeal.

'The gradual growth of "black consciousness" in Cape Town since about 1970 especially among the young.

'The recent independence of Angola and Mozambique and the present happenings in Rhodesia.'

He also cited the desire to show solidarity with the students of Soweto as a more immediate cause of actual marches. Father Gormley's list of causes was praised by Mr. D.R. Ngo, the black adviser to the Cillie Commission, as 'very impressive'.

Dr. Margaret Ellsworth, trustee and founder of the Bantu Scholar's Trust, detailed the overcrowding, costs and lack of facilities for black pupils in the Western Cape. She commented on the present situation where students had 'got themselves into a position where they feel they cannot retreat for fear of losing face.' No one could know what the black scholars would do next. They were not communicating with anyone and were now actually intimidating one another to such an extent that the whole situa­tion had become confused. The children now controlled their parents, and everything had 'hardened up' to such an extent, that it had become difficult to negotiate with them. ²⁴

She also raised the question of whether black people were boycotting the Commission. According to Dr. Ellsworth they were, firstly because they felt that commissions didn't change anything as previous findings had been cast aside, and, secondly, they were afraid of being branded as informers or collaborators if they did appear.

The following day Mr. Justice Cillie strongly denied any suggestion that blacks might be boycotting the Commission. Though it was true that some people were reluctant to give evidence, many organisations had collected evidence from third parties and the Commission was happy to accept this. Members of the Institute of Race Relations and other organisations with close ties to black people did find a reluctance of blacks, especially young ones, to come forward. Most of their affidavits were collected from older people - most blacks in Cape Town, like elsewhere in the country, were either apathetic in the face of a white-run commission or, like the young ones noted by Dr. Ellsworth and Maria, too hostile to consider being part of it.

Prof. H.W. van der Merwe, director of the Centre for Intergroup Studies at the University of Cape Town, told the Commission that as an intermediary body, which had undertaken to collect and collate information about the recent troubles, it had been extremely difficult to get reliable information from black and 'coloured' people. This was because of fear of intimidation by the security police and of intimidation and revenge from within their own communities. Another reason for this reluctance was that the Cillie Commission was seen as part of the overall 'apartheid system' which was rejected outright in these communities. He said that, even in private, he had yet to come across one 'coloured' leader who expressed any hope that the Commission could make a meaningful contribution to a solution to the present problems in the Republic. ²⁵

Other witnesses at the hearings also commented on possible causes. The Director of Coloured Education, Mr. W. Theron, argued that the real causes of the disturbances were political in origin. He cited the way in which the Theron Commission report had been handled as one of the basic contributory causes. The rejection of the most important of its findings had put a 'summary damper' on the political aspirations of the 'coloured' people and caused much bitterness and hostility. Coloured people now felt they had more to gain by allying themselves with black power movements. ²⁶

Dr. R.E. van der Ross, rector of the University of the Western Cape, sparkpoint of the action in the Cape, spoke of the socio­political frustrations of the students at his university who resented having to go to a university that was for 'coloured' people only and which did not have the same facilities nor autonomy as universities for white students. ²⁷

Mr. Franklin Sonn, president of the Coloured Teachers' Professional Association, spoke of how the black consciousness movement had taken hold of the students' imagination. For the first time 'coloured' people had felt that whites was afraid of them and this had convinced them of the merits of the idea. On behalf of the C.T.P.A. he asked for full citizenship rights for all South Africans. ²⁸

In a new attempt to whip up protest against the system, 150 black students marched through the centre of Cape Town on Saturday, November 27. They were dispersed by police batons and teargas, regrouped in much larger numbers and were dispersed once more. The demonstration broke up without arrests or injuries.

The burning of the homes of alleged informers that took place in Guguletu on Monday, November 29, was initially reported as a revenge attack against policemen or people who had given evidence at the Cillie Commission. ²⁹The mistake, made in all good faith, was seized on by a police spokesman, Major Cornelius van Reenen Mouton, as an example of the sort of 'false and distorted' reporting that had occurred during the troubles. ³⁰This was refuted by the Cape Times and their evidence was accepted by the Commission.

In all, 19 houses were destroyed in the students' campaign of revenge. It was part of a day of mob attacks on lorries, a bus and a light delivery van. The culmination was an attack on a riot squad van on patrol. Police fired into the crowd, which dispersed, leaving two men fatally injured.

The following day saw a massive police raid on Guguletu. More than 500 police sealed off the township, cars entering and leaving were checked and a house to house search undertaken. About 150 people were arrested. Brigadier Theo Bisschoff, Divisional Commissioner of Police for the Western Cape, said that the campaign was aimed at stopping the arson and violence that had broken out since Sunday. Those arrested included many suspected of a part in burning the houses of Guguletu residents, 'plus won't - works and loafers.' ³¹

Among those arrested were eleven youths, alleged to have taken part in the Saturday march to the city centre. They were later found guilty of public violence. By the weekend, the toll of those arrested on various charges had reached 300 and the massive police presence was continuing in all the black townships.