The Colour of Gold (19 page)

CHAPTER 8

"Good news,
sir." Captain Tiaan Botha said as he sat down in one of the
visitor's chairs in front of Brigadier van Tonder's desk. "The
yellow Mazda with two occupants was completely destroyed in the
Sowetan suburb of Orlando East by the bomb that I placed inside the
vehicle. The explosion took place at a few minutes before one
o'clock yesterday morning and was instantly followed by two hand
grenade explosions in the front passenger's area of the car. I
think that that's conclusive evidence that the men who died in the
car were terrorists out on a mission."

"Excellent!"
the Brigadier said. "Did you get any information on who the
occupants were?"

"Unfortunately
not, sir." Tiaan replied. "Both the occupants of the car were
incinerated. We've taken a few bone samples but, apart from that,
there was nothing that survived the inferno. The car was stolen in
Pretoria six weeks ago."

"What about the
shack in Moletsane?" the Brigadier asked. "Anything there?"

Tiaan shook his
head.

"Apart from
five hand grenades, there was nothing that we could use to trace
the identities of the two men."

"Okay. Anything
else?" the Brigadier asked.

"Yes." Tiaan
said. "Our intelligence guys came across a black by the name of
Isaiah Zuma when they were checking a list of passengers that had
been travelling to Ladybrand about ten days ago. Apparently this
Zuma chap had a letter from the Deep Reef Gold Mine here in Jo'burg
to visit his sick mother who had been visiting her sister there
when she had a heart attack. They also checked with the mine
management who showed them a letter that they'd given Zuma allowing
him to visit his mother in Eshowe, Natal. They checked the mother's
records and there was no permit allowing the woman to travel to
Ladybrand from where she lives in Eshowe. Our guys then checked on
her whereabouts and several neighbours confirmed that at no time
had she left her home for more that a few hours during the past
year. It's obvious that this Zuma was travelling on forged
documents and it's my guess that he travelled on foot to the
Lesotho border and crossed into that country to make contact with
the A.N.C. there. According to our guys he's now back at the Deep
Reef Gold Mine."

"Very
interesting." the Brigadier said. "I've no doubt that he's a new
Umkhonto recruit. Keep him under surveillance. The new recruits are
the one's that make the mistakes that lead to the big boys."

***

Isaiah walked
into the thatched beer hall in the Sowetan suburb of Orlando East.
He wore a clean pair of blue overalls, leather sandals and his red
baseball cap with a white chicken's feather stuck into the lining
at the side. He slid the cap back on his head to expose his
forehead and give himself a jauntier look. He stopped to allow his
eyes to adjust to the gloom and then moved to the long wooden bar
counter. He ordered a Black Label beer from the barman and quietly
sipped the brew as he turned and studied the huge hall with its
rough wooden tables and benches. The musty smell of fermented hops
and sorghum filled the air. The steady murmur of men's voices
drifted over him.

The small
number of patrons in the hall surprised Isaiah until he remembered
that an important football game was scheduled to be played later
that afternoon between Orlando Pirates and Kaizer Chiefs. He
imagined that the beer hall would be filled to capacity after the
game, regardless of which team won. Black South Africans were
passionate about football just as white South Africans were
obsessive about rugby football.

Noticing a
large empty space at one of the tables Isaiah picked up his beer
bottle and sauntered over. He sat down and greeted the other men
sitting nearby who nodded to him disinterestedly and continued with
their own conversation. He glanced around the dim lapa trying to
guess which man was the one he was there to meet. He raised his
left hand and surreptitiously felt for the feather that would
identify him to his fellow Umkhonto weSizwe member. He took a sip
of his beer and watched the men at the other tables as they
discussed the upcoming football game, many of them displaying
rosettes, shirts and caps in the colours of the teams that they
supported.

Isaiah noticed
a small thin man with a noticeable limp enter the beer hall and
walk to the counter. The man wore a dark blue windcheater, grey
slacks and white sneakers. He ordered a beer from the barman, paid
for it and took a sip. Then without looking around the hall he
walked to the table where Isaiah sat and sat down on the bench
opposite him. Without acknowledging Isaiah's presence he sipped his
beer and watched the men around him, his open left hand lying flat
on the table in front of him. The man finished his beer, stood up
and walked out of the beer hall. Isaiah glanced down at the table
top where the stranger had been sitting and noticed a small piece
of white paper lying there. Very slowly he moved his hand across
the table top and picked up the slip. Without reading it he
finished his beer and left the hall.

Isaiah walked
away from the beer hall and once he was certain that nobody was
following him he glanced down at the piece of paper in his hand.
The address 132 MALEWA STREET was printed in pencil on the slip.
With his thumb he smudged the writing until it was unreadable and
tore it into small pieces. As he walked on Isaiah furtively dropped
pieces of the torn paper onto the ground feeling sure that nobody
would be able to retrieve them and establish what had been written
on them.

Isaiah
continued to wander around the suburb until he found Malewa Street.
He walked down the deeply rutted dirt street, papers and discarded
plastic bags littering the edges and the shell of a burnt-out small
car on the pavement. He passed number 132 and continued to the end
of the track. He walked around the block before returning to the
little shack. He walked to the front door and knocked. Instantly
the door opened and he entered the gloomy hut. The man with the
blue windcheater and the limp smiled at him as he closed the
door.

"Greeting,
Comrade IZ." he said. "I'm Comrade JM. Most people call me Shadow
though. Welcome to the Soweto cell of Umkhonto weSizwe. I
understand that you'll be supplying us with explosives and helping
us to build pipe bombs. Unfortunately the enemy bastards murdered
two of our guys in the street out there about ten days ago. You
must have seen the wreck that they bombed lying on the
pavement."

Isaiah went
cold with shock. He had never realised just how much danger there
was in being a member of MK.

"Yes, I saw
it." he said.

"I can see that
you're shocked." Shadow said. "We're playing a deadly game here."
he said. "The white bastards are determined to wipe us out and
they'll go to any lengths to do so. Murder is their favourite
method. You must accept that, from now on you are constantly in
danger of losing your life. Unfortunately it's too late to
withdraw. You know too much already. Do you understand what I'm
saying?"

Isaiah nodded
as he came to terms with what he'd let himself into.

"Yes, I
understand." he said. "I'm prepared to do what is necessary to win
our people's freedom. I won't let you down. I'm very proud to be a
member of MK."

"I was glad to
see your fear when I told you about the two men that the enemy
murdered." Shadow said. "Men who have no fear are a danger to our
movement. Men who have fear are men who are careful and don't do
irrational things. We're all scared, comrade. Don't think that
you're the only one."

Shadow led
Isaiah to the kitchen table. They sat down. Six brown beer bottles,
condensation dripping of their shiny surfaces, stood on the table
top. Shadow opened two and handed one to Isaiah.

"I think that
it would be wise for you to hide the explosives that you steal from
the mine until you have enough to make at least one pipe bomb."
Shadow said. "I don't want you to be seen around here too often.
Can you do that?"

"Yes." Isaiah
said. "I can find a place in the buffer zone between here and
Jo'burg where I can hide the stuff. Every now and then I'll change
the hiding place."

"Okay." Shadow
said. "Our biggest problem is going to be getting the pieces of
pipe for the bombs. As I understand it, each piece had to be
threaded at both ends."

"That's right."
Isaiah said.

"We have to be
very careful." Shadow said. "Asking some one to do that will arouse
suspicion and the enemy has spies and informants especially looking
for anything that can be related to the making of pipe bombs and
other explosive devices. We've got to find someone who will make
the parts that we need and who won't ask questions or betray us. Do
you know of anyone on the mine that can get the parts for us?"

"No." Isaiah
said. "But I'll make some enquiries."

"Be very
careful who you speak to." Shadow warned. "The enemy is
everywhere."

***

Even though
Isaiah found himself very busy with his job on the mine, putting
his scheme to steal explosives together and planning to create
explosive devices for Shadow, he still felt very lonely and in need
of female company. The mining fraternity was extremely
male-dominated and the dearth of females created many social
problems. The mine hostels and compounds were strictly for men and
the only black females on the mine were a few qualified women who
worked in the administration building and the domestic workers who
worked in the mine houses for the white miners and their families.
Wherever Isaiah went he was constantly on the lookout for possible
female company but apart from the prostitutes in the buffer zone
and in Soweto there were few opportunities to meet women and form a
more lasting relationship. He asked Solomon how he coped with his
loneliness.

"It's a big
problem." Solomon said. "All these men and so few women. There are
always fights when it comes to women. I am fortunate that I met a
woman who works in Sandton and lives here in Soweto. Every day she
has to travel to Sandton and back and it takes her two hours to get
there and two hours to get back. She has to leave for work at five
o'clock in the morning and only gets home at seven in the evening
so I only see her on the weekends. But she is always being harassed
by single men from the mines and she's very unhappy. Her family
lives in Pietersburg, nearly five hundred kilometres away, and she
only sees them at Christmas time."

"Are there lots
of women like your friend?" Isaiah asked.

"There are."
Solomon replied. "Most of them are domestic workers. The white
homeowners don't worry too much about the Group Areas Act that
forbids black people to work in areas outside those they were born
in, so they employ illegal workers because they know that they will
work hard and not cause any trouble. They employ them as casual
workers so that there's no contract and they can fire them at any
time. Also, if the police catch them, they say that the person was
only working for them as a temporary worker."

"I wonder what
these women do in their free time." Isaiah said.

"As far as I
know, most of them live in small rooms at the back of their
employer's houses or in shacks in Soweto and Alexander Township."
Solomon said. "But they are very scared of being arrested by the
police and sent back to where they were born so they stay indoors
most of the time. Without their families and friends they must be
very lonely."

"What about the
woman who work here on the mine?" Isaiah asked.

"Most of them
are elderly women." Solomon said. "The younger ones mostly work in
the administration section and have families in Soweto. None of the
women are allowed to live on the mine premises."

Whenever he
could, Isaiah began walking past the white miner's houses on the
mine in the hope of meeting a suitable woman. Solomon was right
though; most of them were elderly and not what he was looking for.
The other problem was that some of the women finished work before
Isaiah did so he wasn't able to see them. One day though, the
underground day shift was brought to the surface early because of
an underground accident. Isaiah hurried to the mine residential
area in the hope of meeting the women who finished work early. To
his surprise he noticed a tall slim young black woman leave one of
the houses at three o'clock. She was well dressed and very
attractive. He waited at the edge of the road as she
approached.

"Hello." he
said as the woman drew level with where he was standing. "I noticed
that you work for the people in that old house over there. Do you
live in Soweto?"

The woman
glanced at Isaiah and smiled. He was glad to see that she wasn't
offended by his unsolicited approach.

"Yes." she
said. "Why do you ask?"

"I work here on
the mine but I'm not happy living in the single compound." Isaiah
replied. "I'm thinking of finding somewhere to live in Soweto. Do
you know of any accommodation that's available?"

"There are
small shacks at the back of many of the houses." the woman said.
"I'm renting one in Orlando East. What's your name?"

"Isaiah. What's
yours?"

"Catherine."
the woman replied.

"If you hear of
a shack that's available will you let me know, please?" Isaiah
asked.

"Okay."
Catherine said. "But how will I contact you?"

"Perhaps we can
meet at a shebeen in Soweto." Isaiah suggested.

"Yes."
Catherine said. "What about this Friday? We can go to "Aunty Flo's
Shebeen. It's very nice and relaxing there. Do you know it?"

"No." Isaiah
said. "But what if I meet you here on Friday and we go there
together?"

"Okay."
Catherine said. "But I finish work at three o'clock. What time do
you finish work?"