The Colour of Gold

by Oliver T Spedding

  Mister Varachia's group obviously had a great deal of experience at helping new arrivals to Lenasia to settle into their new homes, and with a few directions from Bala and Fatima, all the furniture and other items were quickly installed in the single room. Everyone then washed their hands at a nearby tap and then stood around the table helping themselves to food, talking to Bala and Fatima and making a great deal of fuss over Salona. Bala felt extremely humbled as it had never occurred to him that the other residents of Lenasia would go such lengths to help him and his family. The concern for their welfare, the advice and the offers of help were overwhelming.

  "I think that, given time, we're actually going to be very happy here." he whispered to Fatima.

  ***

  Bala, Fatima and Salona finally moved to their allocated house in Lenasia Extension 2 five weeks after first moving to Lenasia. The house faced north and had two bedrooms, a living room, a very small bathroom without an indoor toilet, and a kitchen. The outside toilet bothered Bala and when he asked the building superintendent if it was possible to have it moved and attached to the house he was told that this was possible but that he, Bala, would be responsible for submitting plans to the Building Department and also for the cost of the alteration.

  The plastered walls of the house were painted beige, both inside and outside and the roof was grey corrugated asbestos sheeting. The gutters, down pipes and window frames were painted dark brown and the tiny plot of rubble-strewn land was surrounded by a wire mesh fence with a small metal tubing gate at the front.

  During the time that Bala and his family lived in the barracks he and Fatima had spent the evenings and weekends visiting families in the township and telling them about their tailoring business and the service that they were offering. The response was encouraging and every morning Bala lugged his old suitcase filled with clothing that needed to be repaired or altered from the barracks to Lenz station and from Braamfontein station to the shop in the Oriental Plaza. In the evenings he carried the suitcase back to Lenasia filled with the altered or repaired clothes. He would then go from house to house returning the garments and collecting his money. It was a long day as he left the barracks at six o'clock each morning and seldom got home before ten o'clock when he would sit down with Fatima and they would have their evening meal. It worried him greatly though, that he only saw Salona on Saturday evenings and on Sundays and he desperately missed his beloved little girl.

  Most of Bala's customers who had supported his business while his shop had been at Fourteenth Street continued to support him after he moved to the Oriental Plaza and with the extra income that he derived from the work he received from the residents of Lenasia he was able, not only to meet his rental commitment, but also cover the cost of travelling to and from the city each day.

  Before they had moved to their new house Fatima had managed to rearrange the furniture in the barrack so that she could install her sewing machine and was thus able to do her share of the alterations and repairs at home while looking after Salona. She worried constantly about Bala travelling on the crowded trains with his suitcase of clothes. There were constant stories of people being robbed and even murdered by young black thugs on the trains that had no security guards. She always felt a sense of relief when she saw her beloved husband trudging along the dusty road from the station in the evenings, leaning heavily to one side as he counteracted the weight of the heavy suitcase in his hand.

  "As soon as we have enough money I'm going to buy a suitcase with wheels." he told Fatima. "In the mean time I'll draw my strength from the knowledge that each time I bring the suitcase back filled with clothes it's bringing us money.

  Fatima hugged her weary husband.

  "Oh, Bala. I love you so much." she said. "I'm so fortunate to have such a wonderful man for my husband. What would I do without you?"

  One Sunday morning Bala, Fatima and Salona went for a walk to see the new park that had been opened where people could picnic and relax. The trees were still too small to provide adequate shade from the hot sun and there were large patches of bare ground that the grass had not yet covered but the atmosphere was relaxed and friendly and people remarked at how fortunate they were to have such an area. As they sat on one of the benches Bala noticed a familiar figure nearby.

  "Look, dearest." he said. "There's Mister Cajee, our neighbour in from Pageview who gave us the keys to our house when we first arrived in Johannesburg. Let's go and talk to him."

  The little family left their bench and hurried to the elderly man as he walked slowly amongst the crowd.

  "Hello, Mister Cajee." Bala said. "It's so nice to see you again. You're obviously living in Lenasia now."

  Bala was surprised when the old man at first failed to recognise him and he noticed that the man had aged considerably since he had last seen him.

  "Don't you remember us?" he asked. "Bala and Fatima Desai and our daughter Salona."

  "Yes, yes, I do remember you now." the old man said. "It's just that so much has happened to me recently that has been very traumatic and I'm struggling to cope with it. Are you also living in Lenasia?"

  "Yes." Bala replied. "Do you ever see mister Dhupelia? I would so like to see him again."

  As Bala and Fatima looked at Mister Dhupelia, they saw a look of great sadness fill his eyes.

  "Unfortunately my dear friend, Mister Dhupelia, passed away some time ago." he said, his voice shaking with emotion. "Because of the role that he played in protesting against the forced removal of our people he attracted the attention of the white security police who arrested him one night and held him in prison for a considerable time. When he was finally released without charges being laid against him he told me that he had been subjected to some very harsh treatment by the police. The ordeal must have been too much for him and he died shortly afterwards."

  "What did they do to him?" Bala asked.

  "He told me that, amongst other things, he was made to stand in solitary confinement for days at a time without food or water and whenever he fell to the ground he was forced to get up and continue standing." Mister Cajee said. "They were always very careful not to injure him physically. They concentrated on destroying him psychologically. They succeeded, even though he had nothing to tell them that would harm anyone. Psychological torture is far worse than any physical torture. My friend was a very brave and strong man but they destroyed him."

  Mister Cajee was close to tears as he stared into the distance.

  "Please excuse me, but I must be going." he said. "It was so nice to see you again."

  Mister Cajee walked away, his shoulders bowed.

  "It's so sad." Fatima said as they watched the elderly man trudge along the dirt path. "He and Mister Dhupelia were such good friends for such a long time and the white government has destroyed both of them; the one physically and the other psychologically. You know, Bala, this is a wonderful country but sometimes I hate it with all my might."

  ***

  At the police station Bogdan Vodnik was formally charged under the Immorality Act of 1950 and his bail was set at two thousand Rand. He also had to hand in his passport and report to the police station once a week. He was warned not to attempt to make contact with Catherine and to inform the police if he became aware of her whereabouts. He hired a lawyer to help him at the bail hearing and to help him in his forthcoming negotiations with Julia. Once the bail had been paid Bogdan hired a taxi and returned to Deep Reef Gold Mine. He hurried through the reception area, ignoring the receptionist's quizzical stare, and entered his office. He closed the door and sat down at his desk, blinking his eyes rapidly as he tried to think of how he was going to get himself out of the mess that he found himself in.

  Bogdan realised that it would be futile to try to hide his affair with Catherine from Julia or from anyone else. The truth would come out at his and Catherine's trial. He would have to face up to Julia and hope that she would forgive him. He realised that he was at her mercy and that he would just have to grin and bear
whatever transpired. He cursed himself for his foolishness but it was too late for recriminations now.

  Bogdan's other major concern was how his arrest would affect his job at the mine. What was the mine's attitude towards the Immorality Act? he wondered. The only way that he could find out was to confront the problem head-on and make a move before the mine management did. He picked up the 'phone on his desk and called reception.

  "Sally." Bogdan said to the receptionist. "I need to see Mister Moore as soon as possible. Please make an appointment for me to see him."

  "He's in his office right now." Sally replied. "Hold on and I'll ask him when he can see you."

  A few moments later Sally came back on the line.

  "Mister Moore can see you now." she said.

  "Thanks." Bogdan said and replaced the receiver. He took a deep breath, stood up from his desk and headed for the mine manager's office. He knocked at the door and entered the office.

  "Sit down." Gavin Moore, the Deep Reef Gold Mine manager said as Bogdan approached his desk. "The security guys at the main gate reported to me that the police were here to see you. What's the problem?"

  Bogdan sat down in one of the visitor's chairs and took a deep breath.

  "I've been arrested for contravening the Immorality Act." Bogdan said. "I've hired a lawyer and I'm out on bail of two thousand rand. I've also had to hand in my passport. To be quite honest with you, I was aware of this law but I just couldn't take it seriously. I cannot believe that it can be a crime to have sex with a person of colour. It's ridiculous! The discriminatory laws of this country are a disgrace! In fact, they're laughable! Where else in the world do you find such hateful and degrading laws?"

  The mine manager nodded.

  "The problem is that these laws exist." he said. "Whether or not we agree with them doesn't change them. As you said, you are aware of these laws so you have to face the consequences. My problem is that you knowingly broke the laws of this country. As far as the company's constitution and conditions of employment are concerned, you have been arrested for allegedly committing a crime. As you haven't been tried yet I cannot take any action but I must tell you if you are convicted I'll have no option but to terminate your employment. As far as the company's concerned you would then be a convicted criminal regardless of what crime you had committed. The company doesn't make the laws of the country nor does it sit in judgement of the laws themselves. It's solely concerned with the facts. When do you have to appear in court?"

  "My court appearance is set for three weeks time but it may be postponed if they haven't found my co-accused by then." Bogdan said. "The police are still searching for her. Apparently she is an important part of their case against me."

  "Yes, I suppose she would be." Moore said. "Just as you will be a vital witness in the case against her."

  "So, what are you going to do?" Bogdan asked.

  "The policy of the company is "innocent until proven guilty"." Gavin Moore said. "So, until your court case is over I won't be doing anything. We'll carry on as normal."

  ***

  "The fact that you had sex with a black woman means nothing to me." Julia said. "What is important to me is that you cheated on me by having sex with another woman; you committed adultery. You've broken the sacred vows that you and I took when we got married. What's also important to me is that this wasn't a "one-night-stand". It obviously went on for the whole month that I was in Europe. And it happened right here in our house."

  Bogdan and Julia sat in the lounge of their house on the mine's property. She stared at him fixedly while he stared at the carpet in front of him. It was late afternoon and the sun shone through the western window highlighting Julia's angry expression.

  "How did the police find out?" Julia asked.

  Bogdan grimaced, knowing that it would only make the situation worse if he lied. All the facts about his relationship with Catherine would come out at their trials. He took a deep breath and sighed.

  "When you told on the 'phone that you were coming back from Europe, I rented a flat in Hillbrow for Catherine to live in." Bogdan said, his voice low and apologetic. ""Then she betrayed me in one of my business deals that I was doing and which she had initiated by getting someone to photograph us in bed together. The police found the photographs in the flat when the neighbours reported that the front door of the flat had been open for two days."

  "So you were set up." Julia said. "You, of all people, Bogdan. The great Bogdan Vodnik was set up by a domestic servant floozy! Did she blackmail you?"

  "No." Bogdan replied. "But her contacts did."

  "How did they do that?"

  "They forced me to get them certain items that are illegal." Bogdan said.

  "Do the police know about this?" Julia asked.

  "No." Bogdan said. "As far as I know they're only interested in the immorality case."

  "Isn't Catherine likely to tell them about that?" Julia asked. "Won't she try to bargain with the police to get a lighter sentence?"

  "She might, but I don't think she will." Bogdan said. "She could end up in even more trouble if she tells them about the deal I had with her contacts."

  "Do you know where Catherine is?"

  "No." Bogdan replied. "So, what are we going to do now?"

  "I'm not going to do anything." Julia said. "But you are. I want you out of this house immediately. Pack your clothes and get out of here. Go and live in your floozy's flat in Hillbrow. I will be hiring a lawyer and you can communicate with him."

  ***

  Bogdan's eyes opened and he peered around the dark room. At first he couldn't place where he was. The room was unfamiliar. Then he realised that he was in the apartment that he'd rented for Catherine. He frowned as he tried to identify what had woken him. Then the heavy knock on the front door repeated itself. Bogdan leant over and switched on the bedside lamp. He glanced at his watch lying on the bedside table. Three o'clock in the morning. Who could possibly be knocking on the door at this time of night? he wondered. Catherine? Julia? He climbed out of bed as the heavy knocking continued and walked barefoot to the front door.

  "Who's there?" he asked.

  "South African Police!" a harsh voice shouted from the other side of the door. "Open the door!"

  "I want some kind of identification first." Bogdan said.

  "Open the door now, or we'll break it down!" the voice outside the apartment shouted. "We don't have to identify ourselves to you! Hurry up! Open the door!"

  Bogdan felt the sweat break out on his forehead. This wasn't an ordinary police visit. Only the Security Police came visiting at this time of night. They must have found out about the illegal bomb parts that he had acquired for that black bastard Zuma. He undid the security chain on the door and unlocked the door but before he could open it the handle turned and the heavy wooden door swung violently inwards, almost knocking him off his feet. Three burly white men dressed in camouflage uniforms rushed into the flat followed by a thin white man in a blue safari suit and grey shoes. He glared at Bogdan.

  "Are you Bogdan Vodnik?" he asked.

  "Yes, I'm Bogdan Vodnik." Bogdan replied. "What right do you have to come barging in here at this time of night? Who are you?"

  "We're members of the South African Security Police and we don't need to explain to you what our rights are!" the man replied. "Get dressed! We're taking you to the Security Police headquarters at John Vorster Square."

  "Do you have an arrest warrant?" Bogdan asked.

  "We don't need an arrest warrant." the man said. "We're detaining you under the Internal Security Act."

  "Why? What have I done?" Bogdan asked.

  "We don't have to give you a reason why we're detaining you!" the man in the civilian clothes shouted. "Get dressed now, or we'll take you to headquarters dressed as you are!"

  Bogdan walked to the bedroom, closely followed by the plain-clothes policeman. He dressed in casual clothes and began walking towards the bathroom to collect his toiletries.

  "Where
the hell do you think you're going?' the policeman asked.

  "To get my toiletries." Bogdan replied.

  "You don't need toiletries!" You're not going on holiday!" the man said. "Let's go! We can't stand here waiting for you."

  The thin policeman followed Bogdan to the front door of the apartment. A uniformed policeman opened the door and they walked out into the passageway. One of the policemen remained in the apartment while the others flanked Bogdan and walked him out of the building. An unmarked white Datsun was parked in the street in front of the entrance to the apartment block. One of the uniformed policemen opened the back door and Bogdan climbed in, closely followed by the policeman. The thin policeman climbed into the front passenger's seat and the other uniformed policeman climbed into the driver's seat. The engine burst into life and the car pulled away from the curb.

  ***

  Bogdan sat on the cold concrete floor of the cell. The walls were a dirty white and covered with a mass of graffiti, mainly names and freedom slogans written in pencil and a dark red medium that he suddenly realised was human blood. The harsh light from the overhead fluorescent lights hurt his eyes and even when he closed his eyes and covered them with his hands they ached incessantly. The stink from the plastic drum in the corner of the cell that Bogdan had used as a toilet during the time that he'd been incarcerated in the tiny room was overpowering but his pleas that it be emptied and cleaned had been ignored.

  Bogdan was desperately tired. Ever since he'd been locked in the cell he had not been allowed to sleep. His guards had forced him to stand in the middle of the room and whenever he collapsed they had entered the cell and shouted and slapped him until he managed to stand up again. He had lost all perception of time as the overhead lights were never switched off so he had no idea if it was day or night. From the number of meals of cold porridge topped with a little sugar and a tin mug of weak coffee he estimated that he had been in the cell for three days, although this was a guess as he had neglected to take note of the first few meals and with the lack of sleep his memory was confused and unreliable. Whenever he tried to eat, the only way that he could get the food down without gagging because of the stench from the plastic bucket, was to pinch his nose closed with his left hand and spoon the food into his mouth with his other hand.