His marriage to his first wife, Evelyn, had fallen apart, and Mandela’s friends had long speculated about who might capture the heart of the dashing and debonair lawyer and rising political star. He was thirty-eight, tall and well built, dressed stylishly and exuded confidence. Furthermore, he was a successful attorney and already a hero among black South Africans. Mandela had been seen in the company of Ruth Mompati, his secretary, and Lillian Ngoyi, president of the ANC Women’s League, but the love of his life would not be one of the sophisticated political activists he already knew, but rather a young and unspoiled country girl.
The day after their brief meeting, Nelson telephoned Winnie and invited her to lunch on Sunday, as he had something to discuss with her. She was terrified. Not only was Mandela considerably older, but also the patron of her alma mater, where the students had simply taken it for granted that anyone whose name appeared on the official letterhead was far too important a personage for them to know. She was so flustered that she couldn’t work for the rest of the day, and spent all of Sunday morning trying on one dress after another, then tossing them aside as too frilly and too girlish. In the end she borrowed a more sophisticated outfit from a friend, even though she felt uncomfortable in clothes not her own.
In keeping with custom, Mandela did not call for Winnie himself, but sent a friend, Joe Matthews, who had been a fellow student at Fort Hare and was a Youth League activist. He was also the son of Professor ZK Matthews, one of South Africa’s first black professors, and both father and son were among the Treason triallists. Joe drove a very nervous Winnie to Mandela’s office. Even though it was Sunday, he was working, since for him every day was a working day. Winnie found him surrounded by piles of legal files, and felt acutely ill at ease and tongue-tied in Mandela’s company. But he soon captivated the shy young woman with his charisma, and in no time at all they were laughing and talking together. Winnie was surprised and impressed by his optimistic view of the Treason Trial and the fact that he refused to be cowed by the severity of the situation. After a while they walked to Azad’s, an Indian restaurant, where Mandela ordered curry and they talked about Pondoland and their shared origins. He told her he was a member of the royal Tembu line, and spoke about his nephews, Kaiser and George Matanzima, who were from the lesser or right-hand house. The mention of Kaiser’s name came as a shock to Winnie, and she wondered briefly whether she should mention that he had courted her. But Mandela carried on talking about other things, and the opportunity passed.
He told her about his childhood, that his father had died when he was twelve, after which he, George and Kaiser were brought up by King Sabata. He had met Tambo at Fort Hare, and Winnie was surprised to learn that Oliver had seriously considered entering the Anglican ministry, but had accepted a post teaching mathematics at St Peter’s School in Johannesburg instead, then decided to become a lawyer. Mandela had been steered towards the legal profession by another ANC stalwart, Walter Sisulu, who had been forced to leave school in Standard 4 to help support his family, working underground as a miner, as a kitchen cleaner and in a bakery, while studying part time. As one of the original members of the Youth League, Sisulu had progressed through the ranks of the ANC, was its secretary general and one of its most highly regarded members. The two were good friends, and it was thanks to Walter’s urging that Mandela had decided to study law at the University of the Witwatersrand. He then articled with a white lawyer, and in 1952, Winnie’s last year at school and with the Defiance Campaign under way, Mandela and Tambo set up their law partnership. They were the first black lawyers with offices in the heart of Johannesburg, and that was possible only because they rented rooms in a building owned by an Indian. The government was in the process of moving all people of colour out of so-called white areas, but several properties were still legally owned by Indians. There were continued attempts to force Mandela and Tambo out of the city and into the black townships, miles away from the courts and their clients who were in jail, but they resisted and managed to stay put, although they had no idea for how long. Winnie was fascinated.
When the waiter brought the plates of steaming curry, Winnie tucked in. She was used to bland and mostly boiled food and had never eaten curry before, and was totally unprepared for the taste shock. She could hardly swallow the spicy dish, and to add insult to injury, her eyes were watering and her nose started running. She was mortified, and tried her best not to be seen as a country bumpkin. Mandela was gaily telling her that he could happily eat curry three times a day, so Winnie struggled on with the unfamiliar flavours, and with a great effort managed to eat most of her food.
Mandela couldn’t keep his eyes off his lovely companion. Even though she was clearly suffering some discomfort, he found her utterly enchanting. They were constantly interrupted by people consulting Mandela, and Winnie felt quite excluded. After lunch he suggested they should go for a drive, and told her that he had actually contacted her to ask if she could help raise funds for the legal costs of the Treason triallists. Not once had he asked Winnie about her political views or affiliations, but he seemed to take it for granted that they were similar to his own. Like most black South Africans, she had been following the course of the trial since the previous year, when the police had arrested and charged some of the ANC’s top leaders, including the president, Chief Albert Luthuli. Mandela and Tambo were also among the 156 accused, but were out on bail, charged with high treason. A fund had been established to cover their legal costs and to support the families of those who lost their jobs after being arrested. Despite generous financial support from abroad, a great deal more money was needed, said Mandela, and he thought she might have some ideas about how funds could be raised. Winnie had never been involved in anything of the kind and had no idea how she could help, but she would not dream of refusing.
Returning to the car along a rocky path after a walk in the veld, a strap on one of Winnie’s sandals snapped, and she had to walk barefoot for the rest of the way. Nelson held her hand to support her, but she read nothing more into it than a kindly, almost fatherly, gesture. But, as they reached the car, he told her it had been a lovely day – and kissed her. Winnie was stunned. This famous man, the hero of thousands, whose name was known throughout the country, had spent an entire day with her, told her about his life and dreams, and kissed her! She had no idea what to think.
The next day he telephoned to say he would pick her up after work, and arrived dressed for his workout at the gym where he trained as a boxer – and that became their regular pattern. If legal affairs delayed him, he would send someone else to fetch Winnie, spend whatever time he could with her between meetings and other commitments, then drop her off at the hostel.
Even at that early stage, Winnie would observe ruefully in later years, life with him was really life without him, and he never pretended that she would have any special claim on his time. Theirs was never a frivolous romance, said Winnie, because they never had enough time for one.
She was tremendously flattered by Mandela’s attention, but found it hard to believe that this great man was really interested in her. Scared that she might make a fool of herself, she told no one she was seeing him, not even Adelaide. She was alone and confused, and had no idea that she was about to find herself at the centre of a battle for her affections between two of the most prominent black men in the country.
When she stopped writing to Matanzima, he hurried back to Johannesburg to find out why. He telephoned her at the hospital and informed her, with no room for argument, that someone would fetch her from work so that they could meet. She was duly driven to the same house in Orlando West where she and Kaiser had dined, but when she entered, to her total amazement, found herself face to face with both Matanzima and Mandela! She still had no idea that the house belonged to Mandela. Both men greeted her warmly but looked puzzled, neither having been told that Winnie knew the other. They asked her to wait in the dining room while they concluded a meeting in the lounge, where several older men were engaged i
n serious discussion. The longer Winnie waited, the more anxious she became about the predicament in which she found herself. She respected both men, addressing each as ‘chief’. What would they say to her? What would she say to them? Suddenly she was overcome by panic. She slipped out of the house and went back to her office at the hospital, leaving the two men to settle the matter.
The discovery that they shared a mutual interest in Winnie led to an unpleasant confrontation between Mandela and Matanzima. But as the older and more senior man in tribal rank, Mandela prevailed. Kaiser abandoned his pursuit of Winnie, though not without bitterness, and Mandela turned the full force of his attention on her in a way that left no doubt as to his intentions.
In the months that followed, they spent time together whenever they could. She went to see him at the Drill Hall, where the preparatory examination for the Treason Trial was in progress, and visited him at his office, met his children Thembi, Makgatho and Makaziwe, and attended ANC meetings and political discussions. Mandela was both courting her and steering her deeper into politics. He offered her the use of his office when she needed a quiet place to study, and they were together almost every day, talking and laughing and exploring each other’s feelings, but less time was spent on romantic banter than on serious political matters. Mandela made it clear to Winnie from the outset that he was fully committed to the liberation struggle, and would be satisfied with nothing less than the scrapping of all apartheid laws and an end to the oppression of blacks. He insisted that this was not a struggle for blacks only, but for everyone who supported a just and democratic society. He was equally comfortable with people of all races, and many of his closest confidants were members of other racial groups. He firmly believed that not race, but racism, was the problem, and he was adamant that the struggle had to achieve economic equality as well as racial integration. Winnie was appalled when he told her of the many injustices that confronted him daily in his legal practice, and how many thousands of blacks had been turned into criminals as a result of the petty apartheid laws, often for something as minor as not carrying a pass. Winnie also learned everything important about the Treason Trial and the defence tactics of the accused.
She had still told no one of her budding relationship with Nelson, and Adelaide continued to believe Winnie might marry Kaiser Matanzima. When she finally discovered the truth, Adelaide was astounded. It was Oliver who inadvertently spilled the beans when she went to fetch him at his office one day. There was a long queue of clients, and she asked if Oliver still had to see all of them. He laughed and said, ‘No, those are all Nelson’s clients. He will have to deal with them when he can tear himself away from Winnie.’
Adelaide could not believe that Winnie had managed to keep secret something so momentous as a romantic liaison with Nelson Mandela. As soon as she got back to the hostel she told their other friends, and when Winnie arrived she was greeted by squeals of delight and good-natured teasing, and inundated with questions. She tried in vain to explain that there was no more to it than just ‘going out together’.
For Mandela, certain that Winnie was the woman he wanted to marry, it became important to include her in every facet of his life. He wanted to introduce her to his political colleagues, and arranged for her to attend a session at the Drill Hall. When the hearing adjourned, he introduced her to Chief Luthuli, Walter Sisulu, Professor ZK Matthews, Moses Kotane, Ismail Meer and Dr Monty Naicker. They all found her charming, but in an aside, one of the group warned Nelson: ‘Such intimidating and seductive beauty does not go with a revolutionary.’ Nelson laughed, but Winnie was visibly annoyed by the remark. ‘You have no sense of humour,’ he chided.
On weekends, Nelson took Winnie with him when he visited friends and sympathisers in the white suburbs, especially the Bernsteins, where they often met and relaxed, sipping wine and talking politics. There was no consciousness of colour at these gatherings; they were just a group of like-minded people spending some time together. Winnie was the odd one out, twenty-two years old, innocent and naive, and not yet active in politics. But she was happier than she had ever imagined she could be, and while not all his friends fully approved of Nelson’s choice of companion, the animated, well-dressed and strikingly beautiful woman with soulful eyes nevertheless left a vivid impression. She made a concerted effort to embrace Mandela’s political friends as her own: she visited Ismail and Fatima Meer in Durban, venerated Lillian Ngoyi and Helen Joseph, and regarded Tambo as a father figure. In many respects she still had the trusting heart of a child, and her dependence on Mandela and his older friends indicated a deep need for the guidance and support of parents.
She was awed by Mandela’s position and demeanour as a hereditary chief, as well as the ease with which he moved among affluent whites, and accompanied him to both political consultations in the white suburbs and meetings in the townships.
On 10 March 1957, Mandela asked Winnie to marry him. He proposed, rather unconventionally, after a picnic on a white-owned farm along Evaton Road, southwest of Johannesburg. He stopped the car at the side of the road and told her that he knew a seamstress who would make her wedding gown, and that Winnie should go and see her. Ray Harmel’s husband Michael was among the Treason triallists, and in addition to being an activist, Ray was a superb dressmaker. Unusual as the proposal was, Mandela had spoken without any arrogance, and Winnie, madly in love with him, wasn’t offended. She felt they had a special understanding that made further discussion unnecessary.
For Mandela, who did not believe in polygamy, this would be his second marriage, and his choice of wife was important. Winnie was young, but he had instantly recognised her inner strength, the courage and determination that would make her the perfect mate. His only reservation was whether he had the right to expect her to share a difficult and uncertain life with him. He pointed out all the disadvantages: depending on the outcome of the Treason Trial he could go to prison, perhaps for a long time; he was constantly hounded by the police, and no doubt as his wife, she would be too; and, most importantly, he had dedicated his life to the struggle, and everything else, including personal feelings, would take second place. Like a calling to the ministry, it was a commitment for life, Mandela warned.
Winnie was attracted to both Mandela the man and to his dream of justice and change, and the prospect of being able to make a real difference thrilled her. It was what she had dreamed of since, as a child, she listened with anger and sadness to her father’s accounts of the injustice visited on generations of blacks in South Africa.
Although she had not yet verbalised or clearly defined her own political philosophy, Winnie identified completely with Mandela’s ideals and vision for South Africa’s future. When she decided to marry him, his hopes and plans became hers as well. She committed herself to the ANC and the struggle for freedom with a fervour that would endure through almost three decades of persecution. Mandela explained his idea of organising support in both the rural and urban areas, and had drafted plans for ANC volunteers to always be available to inform and motivate the people, right down to grassroots level. Along with Sisulu, Tambo and others, he was spearheading the struggle. It was a path fraught with danger and he kept nothing from Winnie, because he wanted her to have no illusions about her future with him.
But their courtship was not all gloom and politics. They were a striking couple, both tall and always elegantly dressed, and so obviously in love that they infused everyone around them with their joie de vivre. They both loved jazz, and many a Sunday evening found them at Uncle Joe’s Café in Fordsburg, listening to musicians such as Dollar Brand, Kippie Moeketsi and Dudu Pukane. They were completely engrossed in one another, openly holding hands and sharing affectionate touches, and Mandela could seldom take his eyes off her.
As the Treason Trial dragged on, the state withdrew the charges against most of the accused, until only thirty – including Mandela – remained. As proceedings entered the second year, the law practice of Mandela and Tambo began to fall apart, since they w
ere almost never there. Both men had run into grave financial difficulties, but when the charges against Tambo were dropped, he tried to repair the damage as best he could. Mandela couldn’t even pay the balance of £50 he owed on a plot of land he had purchased in Umtata, and lost it. He explained the situation to Winnie and warned her that they would more than likely have to live on her small salary alone.
His divorce from Evelyn was finalised in 1957, and though both he and Winnie realised that if he was found guilty he might well be sentenced to death, they decided to go ahead with their wedding plans.
Mandela’s bail conditions did not allow him to leave the Johannesburg magisterial district, and he was unable to travel to Pondoland to ask Columbus for his daughter’s hand in marriage, as custom demanded. So Winnie had to do it. Early one Friday morning, she set off for Bizana. Her family had not expected her, but were pleased to see her. Throughout Saturday she tried to pluck up the courage to approach her father. That evening, while helping Hilda make tea for Columbus in the kitchen, she confided in her stepmother, showing her a photograph of Nelson. ‘Ma,’ said Winnie, ‘this man wants to marry me. I’ve come to get your approval, because I also want to marry him. His name is Nelson Mandela.’
Hilda was taken aback when she heard the name, and immediately asked whether it was the Mandela, the ANC leader. Winnie confirmed that it was, indeed, and Hilda called her daughter to take the tea to Columbus, then sat down to talk to Winnie. The man had been charged with treason, she pointed out. What kind of life would Winnie have with a man who might be sent to prison, a man totally dedicated to politics? No doubt that was why his first marriage had failed. Winnie merely gazed at the photograph, and from the dreamy expression on her face Hilda realised that all her protests were in vain. She agreed to talk to Columbus.
Winnie Mandela Page 9