In Johannesburg Long Walk Original Manuscript (Image #49)

stormed in and took over from the former without any courtesies. "You silly boys, you've come back", he said, literally shaking with anger. "We've been sent by Mr. Wellbeloved", replied Justice in a tone bordering on defiance. "Did you tell him that you ran away from your father?" the old man countered. Justice did not know how to handle this one and kept quiet. "You'll never be employed in any of these mines. Come on, get out of my sight!" ordered the old man. I looked appealingly to the manager hoping that he would over rule Pilisco. But he was as still as a statue and did nothing to help. The old man had put us in our place and we went away feeling bitter and more humiliated than on the first occasion. It was at this stage that my nephew Garlick Mbekeni, took me to the office of an estate agent in Market Street. We sat in the waiting room while an African receptionist announced our presence to her boss in the inner office. In the public and business offices at Mthatha and at College I had never seen a black typist. Typing was done by males, none of whom was a professional typist and who generally used two fingers only. But here was a black typist and I watched her in amazement as her fingers flew over the keyboard with grace and ease. Later she ushered us into an inner office where we were received by a man in his late twenties. He was light in complexion with a kind and intelligent face. Judging by his clothes, the number of clients that were waiting, he was a fairly busy man. He was fluent in English and at once struck me as versatile and experienced. The advice he gave me was sound and he made a great impression on me. This was Walter Sisulu whose name was already rising in popularity in Johannesburg. During those days I tended to associate proficiency in English and success in