Winnie Mandela (11 page)

Throughout her years at college and during her first year of work, Winnie had remained romantically uninvolved. But in 1957 she met Barney Sampson, a gallant, fun-loving man, and soon they were regularly seen in one another’s company around town. Barney was working as a clerk and studying part time while living in a rented room in the backyard of a house in a white suburb. He was always well dressed, and he and Winnie, who had developed a taste for beautiful clothes, made a handsome couple. Barney was full of good humour and they laughed a lot, and Winnie enjoyed the company of her attentive and elegant companion. But her family did not approve. Sampson was obviously not a traditional black name, and they questioned Barney’s origins. Winnie was not at all bothered by his lineage, but she was concerned that he was almost completely apolitical, showing no interest in the need for change – something that was of major importance to her. She also didn’t like his submissive manner towards whites.

Winnie had decided to stay at the Helping Hand Hostel in Jeppe, although it meant commuting daily to the hospital, which was a fair distance away. She was happy at the hostel, and enjoyed the company of the many young women of different cultures and backgrounds. Their diverse experiences gave her valuable insight into the myriad social problems challenging the black population, and especially those faced by women working in an urban environment. Life was often particularly hard for them, and Winnie learned a great deal about coping with the difficulties of daily life. She listened with real interest when they discussed the gross injustices of influx control measures, which dictated where blacks were allowed to live and work; their employment conditions; the struggle for a living wage; and the bus boycotts when fares were raised beyond the means of workers living on or below the breadline, and thousands walked to work rather than pay the higher fares. Young white women spent their time talking about relationships, marriage, their careers and entertainment, but at the hostel in Jeppe conversation centred on apartheid and the National Party government, which was widely detested.

There was an old piano in the hall, and students who could play thumped away at it on evenings when they sang freedom songs, adding the names of their political leaders, including Nelson Mandela and Oliver Tambo. Winnie had heard
a great deal about Tambo, not only because he was a prominent political figure, but also because he was courting her friend Adelaide. When they were in bed at night, Adelaide would talk and muse about the clever lawyer she was soon to marry, and who was in partnership with Mandela. Winnie first met Oliver when he arrived early to fetch Adelaide for a date, and she ran downstairs to tell him her friend would not be long.

When Adelaide joined them, she told Oliver that, like him, Winnie was from Bizana. He had been educated at the Holy Cross Anglican Mission not far from the Madikizela home, and in keeping with tribal custom they were members of the same broad extended family. Oliver was delighted to meet a ‘niece’ from home, and Winnie was equally thrilled to learn that Adelaide, whom she already regarded as a sister, would be formally related to her through marriage to Oliver.

What Winnie could not know was that the introduction to Tambo would lead to a meeting with Mandela, or that quite soon she would be courted by not one, but two prominent members of the royal Tembu line.

Baragwanath Hospital’s reputation had spread throughout southern Africa, and it drew both patients and physicians from all over the subcontinent. Newly qualified doctors, white as well as black, were eager to serve as interns because the large number and diversity of cases offered invaluable experience. One day, the staff was told that a group of distinguished visitors from the Transkei would visit the hospital. The VIPs turned out to be Chief Kaiser Matanzima and a group of his councillors. When they came to Winnie’s office to talk about her work, she reminded Matanzima that they had met at Ncora. He appeared not to remember her, but as they talked he invited her to run the welfare centre at Tsolo. Winnie agreed to consider the offer, but made it clear that she enjoyed working at Bara. Matanzima was insistent, proposing that they discuss the matter over dinner, and arranged that one of his advisers would pick her up after work.

When Winnie told Adelaide why she wouldn’t be going back to the hostel with her that evening, Adelaide immediately speculated that Matanzima had his eye on her. Winnie dismissed the suggestion, insisting that the meeting would be purely professional. She was fetched in a battered green Oldsmobile and taken to house 8115, a corner property in Orlando West. Matanzima had a candlelight dinner waiting, and she began to think that perhaps Adelaide had been right, after all. Winnie didn’t know it, but the house and car belonged to Mandela, and since he and Matanzima had grown up together, it was only natural that Mandela would place both his home and his car at Kaiser’s disposal during his visit.

As she dined with Matanzima that night, Winnie had not the slightest inkling that within the year she would be the mistress of that very house, and the wife of Nelson Mandela.

After returning to the Transkei, a clearly smitten Matanzima wrote Winnie an endless stream of letters, but she continued to make light of his attentions – until she heard that his councillors were preparing to approach Columbus for her hand. She realised that her innocent but naive responses had been misinterpreted, and was determined to stop a second attempt to force her into an unwanted marriage. She had no wish to become a rural wife, and stopped writing to Matanzima immediately. But she was about to be swept off her feet from another, totally unexpected quarter.

One afternoon, Nelson Mandela gave his friend Diliza Mji, a medical student, a lift from Orlando to the University of the Witwatersrand. While passing Baragwanath, he noticed a young woman waiting at the bus stop, and was immediately struck by her beauty. He briefly considered turning around and driving past her again, just to see her more clearly, but he didn’t. But he couldn’t forget her lovely face.

Soon afterwards, Winnie went to the Johannesburg regional court to support a colleague who had been assaulted by the police, and who happened to be represented by Mandela. When the tall, handsome lawyer walked into court, Winnie heard spectators whisper his name, and she thought he cut an awesome figure.

Around the same time, Winnie was given a lift back to the hostel one evening by Oliver and Adelaide. They stopped along the way to buy food for Adelaide, who was hungry, but Oliver found he had forgotten to bring any money. Then he noticed his friend Nelson in the shop, and told Adelaide to let him pay, which Mandela did. When he and Adelaide came out of the shop, Oliver introduced Winnie, remarking that Mandela must surely have seen her picture in
World
or
Drum
, since she was always ‘dancing about’ their pages. Mandela was dumbstruck. It was the beautiful young woman he had seen at the bus stop. In later years he would say that he had no idea whether such a thing as love at first sight existed, but that he knew, the moment he met Winnie, that he wanted her for his wife.

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.