by Madikizela-Mandela, Winnie; Kathrada, Ahmed; Kathrada, Ahmed
In October 1968 I sent a long letter thanking him for organising Ma’s funeral and for the heavy expenses he personally incurred on that occasion. Nobandla wrote and gave me a lengthy report on the proceedings. About a week before I received Nobandla’s letter Sibali Timothy Mbuzo186 had visited me for the express purpose of giving me a first-hand account of the passing away and of the funeral of Ma. It afforded me much consolation to hear from him that large crowds had turned up to honour her at the graveside. I was particularly happy to be told that you were able to attend. Ma was very attached to you and her death must have been exceedingly painful for you. I hope that you have now completely recovered. Tellie came down last October and told me that you and Baliwe187 had managed to attend Thembi’s funeral in Johannesburg, another family disaster which shook me violently. I should have liked to attend both ceremonies, but in my current circumstances it is not easy to carry out such wishes. Incidentally, in connection with Ma’s funeral I also wrote to Daliwonga,188 Nkosikazi NoEngland, Vulindlela, Wonga, Thembekile ka Tshunungwa and Guzana and thanked them for their own role.
I thought I would discuss the question of the child with Nobandla when she visited me in May last year. I fully grasped the importance of the whole question of removing her from Mount Frere and had hoped to arrange with Nobandla that she be sent to the same boarding school as Zeni and Zindzi. But as you are now aware she was arrested on May 12 almost a fortnight before she was due to visit me, and she is still in prison. Since her arrest I have experienced considerable difficulties in arranging our household affairs. Almost every one of the letters I write appears not to reach its destination. I have not been able to establish contact even with Zeni and Zindzi in spite of repeated efforts I am making and of several letters that I have written to them. I shall keep on trying to contact a friend who, in Nobandla’s absence, will be the most suitable person to help straighten out our affairs, and shall keep the question uppermost in my mind. By the way, Zeni and Zindzi must feel at times very lonely and homesick, and I feel sure that a cheerful letter from you once or twice a year would keep them bright and hopeful. You could always write to them care of Mrs Iris Niki Xaba, PO Box 23, Jabavu, Johannesburg.
In March I wrote to Sibali, Mrs Timothy Mbuzo. Today I am sending a special letter to Mhlekazi Sidumo. He never replied to the one I sent him in May 1969. I suspect that his was one of the numerous letters from me that inevitably ‘go astray,’ especially since Nobandla’s arrest. You may phone or write to Sisi Connie Njongwe, Station Road, Matatiele, and tell her that it was a real pleasure to receive her inspiring letter and to get news about the family. Let her know that in August last year I received a letter of condolence from Robbie and Zuki, and was disturbed to learn that Jimmy189 had removed a disk and subsequently fractured a leg. Connie never even as much as hinted at this in her letter. Tell them that I know just how tough and courageous Jimmy is, and that I have not the slightest doubt but that he is still the same cheerful man who is always full of self-confidence and hope. I will be writing as soon as that can be arranged. Connie will inform Robbie that I was just about to reply to their sweet and encouraging letter when weather conditions in their territory worsened. I shall drop them a line as soon as conditions improve.
Tons and tons of love.
Yours very affectionately,
Buti Nel
LETTER FROM NELSON MANDELA
TO THE COMMANDING OFFICER ROBBEN ISLAND
2nd June 1970
Attention: Col. Van Aarde.
I refer to the discussion I had with you on the 25th May 1970 and should be pleased if you would approve of the registration of the 2 letters attached hereto.190
The letter to Sidumo Mandela is the exact copy of the one I wrote and handed in for posting on the 4th May 1969, and which apparently never reached. It deals, among other things, with matters relating to the title deeds of our quit-rent lot as well as payment of tax. The second one is addressed to Mrs Xaba, my sister-in-law, and is meant for my daughters jointly, one of whom is 11 years and the other 10. Letters previously written to them did not reach. You are aware of the present circumstances relating to my wife and household affairs, and I consider it necessary to ensure the safe arrival of the letter through registration.
I hope you are giving attention to the question of the expected visit from my eldest daughter during the present month, and I apply formally for an hour’s visit.191
[Signed] Nelson Mandela 466/64192
LETTER FROM NELSON MANDELA
TO WINNIE MANDELA
20th June 1970
Dade Wethu,
Indeed, ‘the chains of the body are often wings to the spirit.’ It has been so long, and so it will always be. Shakespeare in As You Like It puts the same idea somewhat differently:
‘Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which like a toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious jewel in the head.’
Still others have proclaimed that ‘only great aims can arouse great energies.’
Yet my understanding of the real idea behind these simple words throughout the 26 years of my career of storms has been superficial, imperfect and perhaps a bit scholastic. There is a stage in the life of every social reformer when he will thunder on platforms primarily to relieve himself of the scraps of indigested information that has accumulated in his head; an attempt to impress the crowds rather than to start a calm and simple exposition of principles and ideas whose universal truth is made evident by personal experience and deep study. In this regard I am no exception and I have been victim of the weakness of my own generation not once but a hundred times. I must be frank and tell you that when I look back at some of my early writings and speeches I am appalled by their pedantry, artificiality and lack of originality. The urge to impress and advertise is clearly noticeable. What a striking contrast your letters make, Mhlope! I hesitate to heap praises on you but you will pardon my vanity and conceit, Ngutyana. To pay you a compliment may amount to self-praise on my part [as] you and I are one. Perhaps under the present conditions this type of vanity may serve as a powerful lever to our spirits.
During the 8 lonely years I have spent behind bars I sometimes wish we were born the same hour, grown up together and spent every minute of our lives in each other’s company. I sincerely believe that had this been the case I would have been a wise man. Every one of your letters is a precious possession and often succeeds in arousing forces I never suspected to be concealed in my being. In your hands the pen is really mightier than a sabre. Words flow out freely and naturally and common expressions acquire a meaning that is at once challenging and stimulating.
The first paragraph of your moving note, and more especially the opening line, shook me violently. I literally felt every one of the millions of atoms that make up my body pulling forcefully in all directions. The beautiful sentiments you have repeatedly urged on me since my arrest and conviction, and particularly during the last 15 months, are clearly the result more of actual experience than of scholasticism. They come from a woman who has not seen her husband for almost 2 years, who has been excluded from her tender children for more than 12 months and who has been hard hit by loneliness, pining and illness under conditions least conducive for recovery, and who on top of all that must face the most strenuous test of her life.
I understand perfectly well, darling, when you say you miss me and that one of the few blows you found hard to take was not hearing from me. The feeling is mutual, but it is plain that you have gone through a far more ravaging experience than I have ever had. I tried hard and patiently to communicate with you. I sent you a long note on Nov. 16; thereafter a Xmas card; and again a letter on Jan. 1 – all were written at a time when you were an awaiting-trial prisoner. After Feb. 13 I was informed that I could not communicate with you and my earnest plea for a relaxation of this particular restriction was unsuccessful.
Your illness has been stubborn and persistent, and I would have expected to be given a proper medical repo
rt by the Prisons’ Department to help ease my mind. Brig. Aucamp gave me a very generalised account which disturbed me intensely. I was shocked to learn that you had to be hospitalised and to actually see evidence of your present state of health in your sloppy handwriting. I believe you completely when you say that you have shrunk to Zeni’s size. It was some sort of relief to hear that you have been seen by numerous specialists and that blood tests have been taken. But I know, Mntakwethu,193 that every piece of your bone, ounce of flesh and drop of blood; your whole being is hewed in one piece out of granite, and that nothing whatsoever, including ailment, can blow out the fires that are burning in your heart. Up on your feet! Onward to duty! My love and devotion is your armour and the ideal of a free South Africa your banner.
A few days after your arrest in May last year I asked for a special letter to my attorney in connection with the following urgent matters:
1. The appointment of a caretaker for the house and for the payment of rent;
2. The appointment of a legal guardian for the children;
3. The making of arrangements for the maintenance, upbringing and education of the children;
4. The making of arrangements for the raising of funds for your education, toilet and other requirements in the event of your being found guilty and imprisoned;
5. The making of arrangements for the raising of funds for my own education, toilet and other requirements during your absence in jail.
Although I have made repeated representations on several occasions the application was not granted. I have, however, now instructed Mr Brown of the firm of Frank, Bernard and Joffe in Cape Town to give immediate attention to these matters. I agree with your suggestion that Father Leon Rakale and Uncle Mashumi194 be appointed joint guardians of the children. I should like to add Uncle Marsh’s name. I wrote him an urgent letter on February 3 in connection with the house. I doubt if he ever received it. He never responded. When Kgatho visited me on Jan. 31 he indicated that he and Tellie were in favour of Lulu (Mxolisi’s sister) moving into the house. I informed Uncle Marsh of this fact and indicated that I would be happy if she did, provided you approved.
Mxolisi visited me last Saturday and says they have not heard from Marsh. Perhaps you would like to discuss the matter with him and Niki when they next pay you a visit. I doubt if Mashumi received my note written on Nov. 19 and rewritten on Apr. 4. I asked him to give me a report on Zeni and Zindzi and to help get Kgatho to varsity. I received no reply from Mashumi as well.
Kgatho is at home and I have no proper information as to why he failed to go to Fort Hare. I made the necessary arrangements for payment of fees and allowance and when he came down in Jan. he confirmed that everything had been fixed and that he would leave for varsity on Feb. 14. I believe he is not working. My letter to him on March 31st produced no response.
I have written 3 letters to Zeni and Zindzi. I now know that the first two never reached them. The 3rd one was written on June 1st. I have received no information whatsoever on them since your arrest save and except the reports you gave me. Of course Niki’s letter of Sep. 9 informed me that they were well.
I, however, hope to straighten out the whole affair with Mr. Brown soon and will arrange for you to be regularly informed.
I have raised the question of my paying you a visit once more and I can tell you nothing at present apart from saying that Brig. Aucamp has promised to discuss the matter with the Commissioner. Speaking frankly, I think the Commissioner has been unusually hard and has not shown the consideration and assistance that I normally expect from him in circumstances of this nature.
Dade Wethu, I wish I could have been in a position to tell you something that could gladden your heart and make you smile. But as I see it we may have to wait a long time for that bright and happy moment. In the meantime we must ‘drink the cup of bitterness to the dregs.’ Perhaps, no I am sure, the good old days will come when life will sweeten our tongues and nurse our wounds. Above all remember March 10.195 That is the source of our strength. I never forget it.
Tons and tons of love, Mhlope, and a million kisses.
Devotedly
Dalibunga
LETTER FROM NELSON MANDELA
TO ATTORNEY MR BROWN
23 June 1970
Attention Mr Brown
Dear Sirs,
I should like you to attend to the following urgent matters at your earliest possible convenience.
1. The appointment of a legal guardian for our minor children, Zenani and Zindziswa, aged 11 and 10 respectively;
2. The making of arrangements for the children’s upbringing, maintenance and education;
3. The appointment of a caretaker for our house No 8115 Orlando West, Johannesburg;
4. The making of arrangements for the raising of funds for my education, toilet and other requirements.
I would appreciate an urgent interview with your Mr Brown to discuss the whole matter.
Kindly treat the matter as extremely urgent.
Yours faithfully
[Signed] Nelson Mandela
LETTER FROM NELSON MANDELA
TO HIS SISTER-IN-LAW JANE XABA
June 29, 1970
Our dear Ndyebo,
You were staff nurse when we parted and I believe you have since risen to become sister. You are doing well and I congratulate you with a warm heart. I would like to tell you that your progress is a source of real joy to us. I hope it will be possible to rejoice with you again some time in the near future when you will have become a fleshy matron – slow-moving and grave as befits one with the status of first lady in a hospital.
I was happy to see you on Oct. 12 ’68 when you visited Mkhiwa.196 We had last met the night in ’61 when Zami ordered me to drive you from Bara to Mofolo. About 3 months before this you and I had spent a whole Sunday morning at Jabulani on the tracks of the gentleman you kindly recommended for the purpose of laying our floor tiles. Soon thereafter I went my way and later you flew to England for an advanced course. I welcomed the news of your departure as I felt sure that further training would enhance proficiency and ensure promotion to more responsible positions. I had hoped then that on your return I might have the privilege of listening to your impressions and experiences. But as we now know that was not to be for some time. Of course, one day I’ll be back and although these impressions will have probably gone stale, it will be a great pleasure for me to be able to resume our usual chats. Until then!
I hardly hear anything about Dudu these days. You will recall that we fetched her from Granny in Alexandra for Zeni’s birthday in Feb. ’61. She was growing well and struck me as alert and good-mannered. I should naturally be glad to hear something on her progress. On June 13 I was fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of an old college mate, Monica, who came to see Mkhiwa. She was a contemporary of the late Phyllis Mzaiduma, Victoria Kabane, Edna Kgomo (now a Mrs Bam), Caroline Ramolohloane, Louisa Kumalo, Dineo Mofolo, Clarisa Mzoneli, Ulrica Dzwane, Musa Msomi, Nomoto Bikitsha and several other talented women who played an important role in college affairs those days, made great impact on us and who are distinguishing themselves in various fields. Monica was then studying science and still stands out in my memory as a gifted and promising young maiden who could stand up at a moment’s notice and deliver a first class speech. I was accordingly very sorry when I subsequently learnt that it had not been possible for her to complete the course. But she seems to have lost none of those virtues which endeared her to us 30 years ago. The consistency with which she has looked after Mkhiwa during the past 7 years shows the considerable depth of her feelings and portrays a good image of herself.
Perhaps one day in the course of the next 4 years I may have the luck of seeing Nkomo, Nomonde and Jerry, Thembsi and Mhlekazi Ncapayi, piccanin Jane and hubby, and Kwezi. From scraps of information gleaned from numerous conversations we have had with Mkhiwa, I have formed some mental picture of each one, and I do look forward to meeting them some day. I was never present to meet the omnipresen
t Hlope, but Mkhiwa has one of her latest photos. She looks serene as a seraphim, perfectly innocent and possesses great charm. I suspect this may be the source of her tremendous pull on others. Now and again I see in official publications available here pictures of our good friends of bygone days – Siko, the ever-smiling eleganté. On some occasions she appears wrapped in traditional costume, sucking away at a long pipe and haranguing poor nurses against the evil of superstition. Other times she is playing angel in Bochabela’s Paradise Hall, or else is simply shown as ibhinqa elinesidanga esinomsila.197 I am glad to see her taking an active interest in some special questions and note her happy frame of mind. The other day I learnt that her Makwedinana was matriculating and wish him and sisters well. I believe Thanti is teaching somewhere in Lesotho. I am sure she is still as pleasant, warm and cheerful as we have always known her to be. Unfortunately, I never had the fortune of meeting all her children. But I know Lindelwa, the youngest (I am told she no longer is [the youngest]). Way back in the fifties Thanti holidayed in Johannesburg. Lindelwa and I became very friendly and we frequently drove around together. She must have blossomed into a full-size Amazon and I should love to see her again and to develop the friendship we started almost 15 years ago. George, formerly in charge of Tladi, is a person for whom I have great admiration and affection. She had done a lot for the family and we owe her a debt which will not easily be repaid. A few years back I heard that she had been offered a medical scholarship abroad and was surprised to note that she did not accept. She and my youngest sister, Leabie, had a raw experience in ’64 and I should have liked to write to her directly. But in our present circumstances such gestures are not always possible or expedient. I like her to know that I highly value her friendship and that I always think of her. I am told that Millie now lives elsewhere. You had been together for so long that the house must look different in her absence. To all of them I send my fondest regards and sincerest good wishes.