A Circle of Impressions Long Walk Original Manuscript (Image #193)

discussion on the whole issue. I decided to holiday on Mthatha. Duma Nokwe and others gathered at home one night to see me off. The young and promising barrister was in his usual jovial mood and as the evening lengthened he became more lucid and loquactious and kept us roaring with laughter. Occassianolly he would burst into song Russian and Chinese at the same time gesticulating zealously as if conducting an imaginary choir. We sat up unil 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. I manoeuvred my car out of the maze of streets in the centre of the city and within an hour or so, I was on the national road to Durban, the first leg of my journey. The breeze was gentl and soothing and, although I had not slept at all that night, I was fresh as dew. Over the car radio I listened to light and sparkling music and felt as merry as my friend Duma Nokwe. At daybreak I crossed from Volksrust into Natal. Once Getshwayo's country, the black King whose crack army wiped out the British at Isandhlwana, it was no longer ours. It had been grabbed from us by men whose sole title to it was gunpowder and who have no conscience whatsoever about