Introduction

Makaziwe or Maki, as she is affectionately called by the family, Evelyn's youngest child, is the oldest of Nelson's three daughters. She was eight years old when her father was first sentenced. She has vivid recollections of visiting him at Lilliesleaf in Rivonia, of being taken there by Mum Winnie, of going for long walks in the country with Tata. It was at school in Swaziland that she heard of her father's arrest. She was overcome with tears and confusion. She did not quite understand what it all meant. She did not see her father again until 1970, when she had grown into a young woman, and father and daughter rediscovered each other.

Nelson found her frank and open, not mincing her words, nor pulling punches. She had an independent approach to Black political groupings, but this he grasped only indirectly and read between the lines. Like Kgatho she had taken to Winnie as a child, but then as she grew older she became affected by the separation of the two families and by her mother's bitterness. She absorbed the last unconsciously, for it was her mother she criticized for being bitter.

Maki was the first of Nelson's children to matriculate and that delighted him. Then to his deep disappointment she announced that she was getting married. He tried to dissuade her, and to persuade her to go to university, to put aside all thoughts of marriage until she graduated. Maki, however, would not be influenced. She married and had two children in quick succession. As Nelson had feared, the marriage floundered and the couple separated.

Nelson consoled Maki and exhorted her to get on with life:

My Darling, Mum Winnie told me about her visit to you in Port St Johns last November, but as she does not want to upset me (she hardly gives me family news that might worry me), she told me that you would write to me on an important domestic matter. I suspected that your marriage was not going smoothly. I must confess that ever since you told me about your p rob lems with Camagu I feared that this is how it would finally end up. But you must be realistic and act at once. If you are convinced that your marriage is on the rocks and that there is no hope of saving it, you must sue for divorce without delay and forget all about Camagu. Under no circumstances must you neglect this and keep a marriage that has failed. You are still young with a bright future, if from now on you plan carefully and are really determined to go forward. This is not the time to worry yourself about your failure to take our advice on continuing your education by going to varsity. Many children have made that mistake before. What is important is what you can do from now on.

8 June 1978

About the marriage you seem undecided. That is quite natural to a truly virtuous and proud young lady who was devoted to her married life. To be cautious on a question of this kind is something I admire, but you ought to know your mind and act decisively. If you think you can still save it, say so and try again. But if you are convinced the marriage is on the rocks, then you must dissolve it without delay. Your aim should be to lead a free and dignified life. All that you should do is to instruct an attorney, most preferably Mr. Fikile Bam, who is practicing at Um tat a and Engcobo. Failing him, you can consult Mr Mkentane, also at Engcobo. Even more difficult to understand is the fact that you allow Camagu to neglect his duty of supporting the children. If you see an attorney you should easily get a maintenance order against him as well as an order forcing him to pay part of your litigation expenses.

I was also happy to know that you work as an invoice clerk. Although I don't know what your income is, at least you have something to keep you going. I was even more happy to hear you say that you have now learnt that life without a profession is futile. I also note that you are determined to do nursing on the simple ground that, in that way, you can both study and earn a bit of cash. In the circumstances your decision is quite reasonable. In the end you will have achieved something and the children won't be stranded.

You should remember the dilemma in which you may be at present. It would be quite natural for you to save the marriage in the hope that Camagu may change and be the same darling who once so loved and respected you in the early days. But you may be nursing a false hope which will lead to further disappointment at a time when you will be too old to make a fresh start. The children will naturally be shocked by the divorce and tortured by the stigma of growing up without the security of a home where both parents live together. What you decide to do now will be important to their future. But by furthering your education and having an independent profession, say a doctor, lawyer or social worker, you will really inspire them to aim higher than you. Please write back to me as soon as possible and let me know what you have decided.

26 November 1978

I would like to tell you again that I am very sorry to learn of the breakdown of your marriage and the rough experiences you have had. Such a turn is always disastrous to a woman. I must remind you, darling, that members of the family and close friends had a high opinion of you as a girl. They were full of hopes for you conduct inside and outside school, for your serious-mindedness and your natural intelligence. I once hoped that the profession of your choice would match you in these qualities and I urge you to develop them. Divorce may destroy a woman but strong characters have not only survived but have gone further and distinguished themselves in life. I want to think that you are such a strong person, that far from discouraging you, this experience will make you richer. This is the challenge, darling, please take it. We love and trust you and are confident that a wonderful future awaits you.

The thought that his daughter was not aiming high enough grew stronger and he urged her to be more ambitious:

I must ask you to think very carefully about your future and to aim a little higher than you are doing now. This is a second chance you have, Maki, and there may be no third.

I was disappointed to note that you have no higher ambition than to be a nurse. I suggest that you abandon your intention to take nursing and immediately apply for admission to Fort Hare. Mum Winnie will try and arrange for payment of your fees and your clothing and perhaps even for a small allowance whilst you are studying, and your mum can help you with regard to the payments for the divorce case. As you know Mum Winnie lost her job in Johannesburg when she was sent to the Orange Free State. She is herself struggling. But she loves you and I am sure she will try her best. It is not at all easy, darling, to discuss such confidential problems through letters and I hope you can see me soon.

8 June 1978

I have told you before, I repeat it now, that we are able to arrange for you to go to university and to get an allowance while working. These days a university education is essential even if your ambition is to become a mere nurse. More ambitious girls first take a degree and then nursing with the result that they rise to positions of responsibility and influence quicker. Those without real ambition and drive are left to work hard in inferior positions for the rest of their lives. I am really surprised to note that in spite of your cruel experiences you are not able to think of anything more than to be an ordinary nurse. At least your mum was able to reach that position thirty-four years ago, quite an achievement in those days. Later she did a midwifery course. Do you mean to tell me that all that you think you are worth is to be no more than your Mum was more than three decades ago? In doing so you are throwing away a golden opportunity which other people less able than you will never miss. All you need to do is tell me or Mum that you have now decided to go to varsity in January. We will attend to the rest. Think, Maki, think, you are only twenty-four and the whole world is at your feet. Think clearly, and at once. Do not miss this chance of entering university next year.

6 November 1978

Maki decided to go to college. The fact that her mother had given up nursing and settled down as a storekeeper in Cofimvaba had helped to improve financial problems considerably. K. D. Matanzima had been instrumental in bringing about this change in Evelyn's status.

Matanzima was family. Politically he and Rohlihlahla stood in opposite camps but the tie of blood was strong. Whatever Evelyn's own feelings about the Transkei, Matanzima had persuaded her to give up nursing and take up shopkeeping. He advised her of the properties that had become available on the market. The Government, anxious for the first independent homeland to work, was reselling the properties for which Whites had been handsomely compensated to the Africans at whatever price they could afford. Matanzima had driven her along the main road in Cofimvaba and pointed out all the properties that had become available. She remembered the place from childhood when they had come to buy from the European storekeepers. Everything had been reserved for Whites: White traveling salesmen had sat drinking beer on the verandah of the one and only hotel; Blacks had been allowed to enter the tearooms only through side entrances. Now the whole town had become Black. She had taken the shop Matanzima advised and by 1978 was doing sufficiently well to take over the care of Maki's children, so that she could pursue her studies.

Nelson was overjoyed when Maki enrolled at Fort Hare and wrote:

My darling Maki, thank you for your letter of 15/2 and for your telegram which I got on 2/3. It read as follows: Registered at Fort Hare with borrowed money. Fees not yet paid. Lectures start March 1. Doing BA. A week later I received a letter from Messrs Mkentane telling me that you were going back to school. I am really happy to know that you are at varsity at last and I wish you the best of luck in your studies. You have been out of school for seven years and you may probably be rusty, but I am confident that you will soon recapture your old form and do well. If you work hard from the beginning and according to a definite timetable from which you should not depart, you can pass with distinctions.

11 March 1978

TO WINNIE

Maki says she is the happiest soul and cannot believe that it is herself who has been admitted to Fort Hare. 'I came to Fort Hare through Mum Winnie's manoeuvres' to put it in her own words, but I was shocked to learn that the fees are R707. I have requested Granny [Helen Joseph] in Johannesburg to ask Amina and husband [Yusuf Cachalia] to attend to the payment of fees. In view of the large amount involved, the allowance she requires and the length of the course, I am compelled to ask her to consult Benjie too.

19 November 1978

There was tension between the two houses he had founded. It was always a matter of deep pain that those whom he loved did not love each other, or did not love each other as much as they should. Maki complained of insufficient support; her complaints reflected on Winnie, and Nelson defended her:

Your letter raised other important family matters that cannot properly be discussed through correspondence. I will therefore not comment at this stage. Perhaps we can talk a bit if and when you visit me. All that I wish to remind you at the moment is that Mum Nobandla [Winnie] loves you and Kgatho as much as she loves Zeni and Zindzi. She tried to keep you, Kgatho and the late Thembi at a boarding school. I would like to assure you that Mum Winnie will do everything in her power to cover your tuition and boarding fees. If you want to pick up quickly in your studies you should be a full-time student and stay at varsity. Mum Winnie was here on Boxing Day and we discussed the matter at length. Please get in touch with her at once and give her the full details; that is, the varsity to which you have applied for admission, the course you have chosen, the tuition and boarding fees, the train or bus, if any, to and from varsity, the cost of the varsity uniform.

He told her that he would like her to do medicine, but was realistic in his expectations:

That career has become even more important today, and your ambition was really worthwhile. But we must be realistic; you are now twenty-four and have lost a number of valuable school years. Your immediate aim should be to have some definite academic qualifications and a definite occupation which will make you secure and independent. It would certainly be a good idea to take a BSc with a view to becoming a doctor. The difficulty is that you may perhaps feel that you are now too rusty in maths and physics. In that case it would be better to try another course.

There are certain precautions you should take to prepare yourself for a fruitful study career. You must brush up your knowledge through systematic reading of literature and newspapers. Try to read a novel, even if just for an hour a day and, say, the Daily Dispatch, if they are available at Fort Hare or the Transkei University College. You may also subscribe to the Sunday Times if it is not available at varsity. Make it a point, no matter how busy you may be, to at least read the editorial carefully and understand it thoroughly. If you do so diligently you will be surprised just how fast your general understanding of facts will become.

You should also do regular physical exercises, especially track running. It has the advantage of exercising all parts of your body and giving you a feeling of well-being. Such activities sharpen interest in your studies and also raise the level of your performance in the classroom. Please consider my suggestions objectively.

31 December 1978

You should also learn to play a few fast-moving games like tennis and basketball to take your mind off books. You will find that extremely helpful. Exercise will give you a feeling of well being and sharpen your mind. You should also read carefully at least two newspapers a day, especially editorials and feature articles. A varsity career is not just a question of studying books and passing exams. One should have more than a general knowledge of current affairs and the world. You can supplement by having a well-informed friend with whom you can discuss the news.

You should also not discuss your domestic problems and religious views with others even if they are your intimate friends. Keep these matters strictly to yourself. In this way you will come to enjoy your varsity days and later look back at them with fond memories.

11 March 1979

I agree with you when you say that one benefits a great deal by meeting people from different walks of life and that conversations with people from such differing environments tend to widen one's general knowledge. I hope that you will take full advantage of such contacts, and if you do so imaginatively, your entire outlook will be considerably enriched.

With regard to the building of a library, I would suggest that you ask the following agencies for book catalogues from which you can choose your favourite titles: the Ravan Press, No 409-16 Dunwell House, 35 Jorissen Street, Braamfontein. Johannesburg, 2001, and the South African Institute of Race Relations, PO Box 97, Johannesburg, 2000.

Ravan Press concentrates on publishing fiction and non-fiction literature by progressive Black and other writers, which are not normally available in the country's other book firms. The SAIRR publishes an annual survey which is one of the country's best sources of information and I would advise you to order a copy of it every year. It is a valuable mine of information. Carefully selected books from the Ravan Press will give you the good feeling that you are reading about your country, your people and yourself. I don't know whether you ever consulted Aunts Helen and Amina as I suggested. Their knowledge and experience on these things are wide and they would be very valuable to you in this regard.

Speaking about Cowley House, you may be aware that the House was bought by the South African Council of Churches to provide accommodation for visitors to political prisoners on Robben Island. The members of its staff are all employees of the SACC. The International Red Cross, PO Box 29001, Sunnyside, 0132 (telephone: 211597) Pretoria, helps in paying the traveling expenses to and from Cape Town. I do look forward to seeing you and Abazukulu [grandchildren] soon and I hope you will this time co-ordinate your visits with those of the family from Brandfort. Nobody can ever question your right to visit Pollsmoor, but you must appreciate the inconvenience that may flow from not informing the family at Brandfort about your proposed visit.

31 January 1983

I was pleased to learn that you are back at college and that you are now busy writing the remaining subjects. I am, however, sorry to hear that you dropped statistical methods because you find the subject somewhat difficult. Perhaps you will manage it better next year.

2 September 1979

Your letter reached me on 20/2, luckily on the day the family paid me a visit. I immediately sent out a message about your registration fee and I sincerely hope that this year you will be saved from the problems you experienced last year. It is a pity that you did not confirm that you were in Johannesburg during the holidays as I would have arranged with friends there to meet and discuss problems directly with you. But let's hope for the best. I look forward to seeing you again. But I would suggest that you apply in time, especially if you intend coming down in June; there are now more visitors to the Island and you can never be sure to get a particular date unless you apply several months in advance. You could apply to see me on two successive days - Saturdays and Sundays. I must also remind you that on 20/2 Ndindi [Thembi's daughter] sixteen and is now entitled to visit me. I would suggest that you stay with our cousin Mrs. Grace Matsha, No 5, Sandile Street, Langa, a township which is much nearer the town. Cape Town has become very rough and it will be necessary for somebody to accompany you to and from the docks. By the way I am told during the disturbances at Fort Hare last year you were seriously injured, so much so that you were hospitalized. Can you give particulars if this information is true? I sent the children's Xmas and birthday cards to Cofimvaba and I hope they all got them. Makgatho and Aunt Judy visited me in August last year; he later sent me an Xmas card. I have been unable to send him a birthday card. Please tell me where he is. I miss you very badly and I look forward to seeing you, possibly next June. Meantime, I send you tons and tons of love and a million kisses. Affectionately, Tata.

20 February I979

There is a bit of research I should like you to do for me, but only if you have the time, preferably when you are saturated with studying. Though I graduated there in 1942, I left the college at the end 1940. That year I took part in the inter-varsity sports which were held at Lovedale. For the mile race Mr Mokgokong and I represented the college. It was then the practice for the athletic team to take photo which was then hung up in the main dining hall. I am not so sure whether that year's team was ever photographed. In November 1940,1 was also elected vice-president of the Athletic Union for 1941 but I did not return to complete the course there. Can you check on these matters and let me know?

2 September 1979

He was pleased when he learnt that his daughter was showing interest in the opposite sex again. He took a live interest in all his daughters' boyfriends and adopted a very liberal attitude in the matter:

It came to me as a big surprise to know that you have a boyfriend who takes you out. I am also glad to know that you have not hidden the true facts from him. I have full confidence in your honesty and know that you will always try to act according to the best of your ability. It was correct and dignified for you to tell him the truth. But you must give me the particulars, e.g., his name and surname, and what his parents do, the course he is taking and his age.

2 September 1979

I was very happy to receive your letter containing the exam results. Two B's out of four subjects is an achievement, and your performance up to now promises even better results this November. Meantime, I send you heartiest congratulations. I note that this year you will be doing Sociology 3, Social Work 3, and Philosophy 1. Will this be your final year, or are there still some courses outstanding? I also note that you spent your December holidays doing practical work at the Child Welfare Society in Johannesburg and that you visited Van Ryn's Home in Benoni, as well as some homes in Soweto. I was not at all aware that Van Ryn's was still there. I visited it several times in the 1950s to consult juvenile clients, and the mere mention of it in your letter aroused pleasant memories.

1 March 1981

In another letter he wrote:

My ambition is that on completing your studies at Fort Hare you should do a senior degree abroad. Although it is still too early to discuss the project, you should consciously have that in mind as you start your varsity career. At present I have some good friends both in England and the USA who have powerful contacts.

Maki graduated from Fort Hare and took on a job as a social worker. Her father wasn't content:

I must point out how disappointed I am to hear that you will not be studying this year. I have discussed this whole question with you as carefully as I could and I am sorry to discover that despite all my efforts and in spite of all your promises you have chosen to condemn yourself to the status of an exploited and miserable social worker of moderate academic qualifications who sadly lacks the ambition and drive that motivate the more serious-minded youth of today. Many of your mates of the fifties are now doing senior degrees - MA's and even doctorates at overseas universities while you remain shut up in a backveld and unable to give meaningful assistance to the people you would so very much like to help. Again you have not told me whether you ever contacted Aunt Fatima as I requested you or thanked Aunts Helen or Amina for all the help they gave you. Please let me know.

31 January 1983

Her father's cajoling did not fall on deaf ears. Maki contacted 'Aunt Fatima', went to live with her and Uncle Ismail in Durban, and enrolled at the University of Natal. She completed her Honours in Sociology and won a Fulbright Scholarship to the United S tat es. Remarried, she now later lived with her husband and three children in Massachusetts while completing her doctoral programme.

ZENI AND ZINDZI

Zeni and Zindzi were born during the most difficult years of the Mandelas, at the height of Nelson's political activities during 1959-60. Zeni was born prematurely; her mother had to be urgently moved into hospital at 1.30 a.m. on 4 February Nelson was not present when she was born, though he arrived some hours afterwards. When Zindzi was born a year later, Nelson was away from Johannesburg and only saw her two days later, in the midst of a full-blast police raid on his house. Zindzi was to say in later life, 'I felt I was more or less raised by the police.' Winnie was in full-time employment as a social worker with the Child Welfare Society and had to return to work soon after Zindzi's birth. By the time the infants were toddling, both parents had been banned and their father imprisoned. Neither of the girls had any recollection of their father and virtually met him for the first time when they turned sixteen. The experience was at once awesome yet charming.

When they were still at a pre-school age, and Winnie's life was in j eopardy, Ama Naidoo (whose father-in-law had worked closely with Gandhi and whose son, Indres, would serve a long prison sentence on Robben Island, and whose daughter, Shanthi, would go to prison rather than testify for the State against Winnie) took them over and enrolled them at the Coloured school in Rockie Street. The girls were happy there and doing well, 'But.' says Winnie, 'the terrorizer of the Indian community, Van Tonder, bent on ensuring the racial purity of the Group Areas cast out any African children from the Indian area. Van Tonder's terror eventually unnerved even himself. I hear that he eventually tried to redeem himself by marrying an Indian woman and converting to Islam'. The girls were forced to leave school just before the end of their school year there. Winnie then enrolled them at Our Lady of Sorrows convent school in Swaziland. Later Sir Robert and Lady Birley took over their school education and they went to the Waterford, also in Swaziland.

When Zeni was nine and Zindzi seven, their mother was imprisoned for a year and a half. They grew close to Peter Magubane and their Aunt Nonyaniso, then they too were imprisoned. No one remained in their home and the girls were obliged to live with friends during their school holidays. They were rarely happy with the arrangements and often complained or became the targets of their benefactors' complaints. So they grew into adolescence.

In 1974, when Zindzi was thirteen and Zeni fifteen, Winnie was sentenced to six months' imprisonment. Zeni, coaxed by the media into speaking, was reported as saying: 'We wept, but we tried not to show any grief. Mummy has been through hard times. To us she has been a wonderful mother. Now we are old enough to share her sorrow and grief with her. We have many friends.'

When their mother was not in prison, she was sub j ected to repeated arrest. The house was continually invaded by police and exposed to attack from reactionary fanatics. The home atmosphere was so bad in January 1973 that Zindzi appealed to the Special Committee on Apartheid to urge the South African Government to provide them with security: 'The family and mummy's friends fear that an atmosphere is being built for something terrible to happen to Mum. As you know, my mother has been a victim of several attacks and we believe that these attacks are politically motivated.'

Zindzi still lives with her mother and has shared some of her most harrowing moments. The bond between mother and daughter is particularly strong. Zindzi's two young children and her boy, named Gaddafi, also live with Winnie.

In 1974, following the parcel-bomb death of Kgopotse Tiro of the South African Students Organization, there were suspicions that the Mandela girls, then at school at Waterford, would be next on the list. The girls lived in fear after their Orlando home had been attacked.

With both parents in prison, they suffered extreme insecurity. They had to rely on friends and on their guardian Dr Nthato Motlana, to take them to school in Swaziland. Conscious of their double deprivation, and that he had not been at home for almost the whole of their lives, made Nelson even more concerned about his younger daughters than he was about his older children, who at least had their mother. He was aware too, particularly due to their exposure at Waterford to wealthy children, that their expec tat ions were beyond his means.

He wrote to a friend in 1974:

'Judging from the girls' letters, traveling to Europe and America has become quite a craze at their school. Now and again, in discussing matters of this nature, I am tempted to remind them that they are my children, a fact that may place insurmountable difficulties in their path. But hard reality does not often coincide with the people's wishes, especially when these people are children.'

ZENI

Zeni is an open-natured, graceful young woman who has integrated well into the Swazi Royal Family since her marriage in 1977 to Prince Thumbumuzi, a son of King Sobhuza. Their marriage interrupted her studies at high school. Neither Nelson nor Winnie was at first in favour of the marriage; they believed that Zeni was much too young. They wanted her, above all, to complete high school and gain at least a first degree before settling down to marriage. The disappointment was expressed in a letter to Zindzi, dated 4 September 1977.' You should have seen just how pitiful your mother looked when Zeni came to tell me about Muzi. I would not like to see that frightful sight again. You are the last straw to which she now clings and her happiness now is very much in your hands. Priority Number 1, I repeat priority number 1, is your studies.'

Zeni had three children in quick succession. Nelson's letters to her express his fears that she might so settle into complacent domesticity as to spurn all opportunities to develop her own individual attributes. He continues to urge her to complete her matric and to go to university. He counsels her on her figure and on spacing her children judiciously. He is generally proud of her and happy that her marriage has worked out so well. His letters express his delight with his grandchildren, chastisement for not being more regular in her letters to him, and constant urging that she resumes her studies. He arranged scholarships for both Zeni and her husband, and the couple are now studying in the United States.

Mavelengekacingi is a beautiful well-thought out name. Mum and I would love to see it on the birth certificate. Failure to include it would deeply hurt your in-laws and you and Muzi should avoid that at all costs. Please, darling, consider the matter carefully and let us know what you decided. We will not feel happy until you assure us that you have accepted the name and the birth certificate accordingly amended by adding it to that of Zaziwe.

30 October 1977

I was also worried about the arrangement for Zeni's confinement, and I was relieved when you told me about the arrival of Zuzeka Zanele. I have written to Zeni congratulating her and welcoming the new Mzukulu.

1 July 1979

I want you to know the old hope we have been discussing since 1977 - education. I hope you will leave for the USA as soon as Zazi is old enough to feed on a bottle. I am getting really disturbed by all these delays. This is the third year in which you have been out of school and Mum and 1 will be terribly disappointed if for any reason you do not leave for the USA before next June. I have already asked her to contact some of our friends there to make arrangements should it be necessary for you to leave without Muzi. It would be tragic if Mum has neglected that request.

TO WINNIE

I am surprised at Zeni's lack of ambition and finesse. She is gambling away her entire future. Without proper academic qualifications they cannot be quite secure in any position they now hold. The Swazis like all other people of Africa have discovered the value of education. They are trying to give their children the best opportunities within their means. Though she may appear secure and happy today, time will soon leave its marks on her, and the affections that now seem so strong may gradually wear out and even loosen. Zeni will be lacking in imagination and foresight if she allows herself to be reduced into the position of an outsider who is deficient in so crucial an aspect. I hesitate to suggest that they should at least study privately. I do not think they would have the real drive to do so. They may just seize the opportunity and use our advice as a sort of defence to any further pressure you may still use. You know the other fears I have about the reluctance to go abroad. These may occur sooner than we expect. I hope Zindzi will carry out my request and have a confidential chat with her sister on the whole question.

26 September 1979

I hope the telegram in which I congratulated you on the arrival of Zuzeka Zanele reached you in time. Every sentence and every word in this letter has been inspired by the pride and joy of being two times a grandpa. I am looking forward to seeing Zuzi as soon as it will be safe for her to fly down and sail across the waters of the Atlantic. I hope Zazi will love the baby as a sister and future playmate who will complement her life in many ways.

Mum's telegram came when I was just on the point of writing to suggest that this time the honour of naming the baby should be reserved for the Swazis. They may be easily offended if we ignore them in such matters. The only redeeming feature is that the baby is a girl. If it were a boy they would probably have insisted on exercising their prerogative. Maybe the next time you will be luckier than Mum and that your third child will be a boy. I can well imagine the security and excitement the birth of a son will bring. I sometimes expect that the expression of concern and uncertainty on the part of Mum may be partly due to my absence from home and partly to the events that overtook us before we had a son. The thought of you and Zindzi married and away, leaving her alone without anybody to look after her in her old age is eating deep into her soul. But I hope that the eagerness to get a son will not obsess you. Relax completely in regard to things beyond your control and do not allow them to interfere with your happiness. You must plan the birth of your next one a little better, during the holidays. Have the Swazis seen the baby?

26 March 1979

Nomadabi [Zeni] seems to be maturing well and I enjoyed the conversation with her a fortnight ago. I wished I could talk to her confidentially on a number of topics. In her last letter she tells me that she and Muzi are planning to write a history of the Dlamini House and to present a balanced picture of the Royal House. Such a desire on their part is of course understandable. The Swazi Royal House is one of the most famous families in Southern Africa and the popularity of the father-in-law highlights the fame. But if they must tackle such a project they must prepare themselves thoroughly academically and otherwise. Although I did not discuss the matter with her, the matter is, in the light of modern trends of thought, a particularly sensitive one, requiring careful handling. I would certainly prefer Nomadabi to enter the book market with a less controversial subject.

29 July 1979

TO WINNIE

It disturbed me very much to learn of Zeni's operation. I do not know, Mhlope, how to persuade Zeni to get used to the pen. What you have told me about the operation are details that I ought to have got directly from herself and I find her silence to be equally disturbing. I do not even know whether or not that silence is due to her illness. I am trying hard to get used to her rather casual approach towards correspondence. Her indifference contrasts so strongly with your promptness and with that of Zindzi and it will take me a lifetime to accept the fact that I must accept less from one darling child in this respect.

1 June 1980

Did you send Fatima and Ayesha [Dr Ayesha Arnold, with whom the family stayed for many years when visiting Cape Town] some Swazi national dresses as I once suggested? You have not acknowledged receipt of your birthday letter-card. Few children find it easy to write to parents and failure to do so on their part is not anything so serious. But the habit of attending to small things and of appreciating small courtesies is one of the important marks of a good person.

1 August 1978

I was taken aback when you told me that Zeni and Muzi had not left after all. She has now wasted three years which may, in the long run, bring further complications. I hope you are discussing the matter with her and that she will leave soon after she has confined.

27 February 1979

Although Mum tells me you have been writing regularly I have received no letters at all from you since April and nothing whatsoever, absolutely nothing, can make up for the emptiness within me caused by my longing for you and your letters. I am confident I will see you soon, but the months that have passed since we last met seem like a lifetime. The only thing that comforts me are Mum's reports that she is in touch with you, even if by telephone only. I wonder just how you spend your free time, what you are reading, and whether you find time for physical exercises. Whatever you do darling, please do not neglect your health. Both Mum and Dad are natural heavyweighters, a characteristic which has both its advantages and disadvantages. A tall person can be quite impressive if he/she has an athletic figure and be repulsive if burdened by too much weight. The best way to keep yourself fit is to have regular physical exercises and by playing for a definite club, say hockey, basketball, tennis, provided your in-laws have no objection.

30 October 1977

I sent Zeni the two volumes of War and Peace by Tolstoy plus a box of chocolates. These were preceded by a 21st birthday card with a beautiful picture of a horse's head on the outside cover. Today I wrote her another letter wishing her well after her last operation and stressing to her the importance of physical exercise, especially regular running, that will certainly improve her breathing mechanism. It is such exercises that contributed to the clearing of my own sinus ... She must refrain from using nose drops.

10 February 1980

ZINDZI

While Zeni settled down to a happy married life and also fulfilled her father's desire that she study, Zindzi has remained with her mother and is very close to her. When Nelson saw her for the first time since he had left her as a toddler, he wrote to a friend on 1 January 1976: 'I had a lovely time on 27 December with Zeni and Zindzi. I was seeing Zeni for the third time and the youngest for the first time since 1962. She has a lot of fire in her and I hope she will exploit it fully.'

Zindzi is by far the most articulate and well known of Nelson's four surviving children. She has unusual talents and published an anthology of poems at the age of fifteen. But this is the only occasion when she shared her hidden spark with the world. She has since been overwhelmed by too many problems, both hers and her mother's with whom she identifies deeply. There is little doubt that she has been the most affected by the ordeals of her parents, and the continuing traumas inflicted on the family have left their scars. She has ceased to write and says, 'It has dried up.' With the two elder daughters studying in the United States, she was the one, apart from Winnie, who kept in closest touch with her father. She invariably accompanied her mother on her visits, apart from making her own. During the year she spent at the University of Cape Town she saw him quite often.

Nelson's relations with his two elder daughters tend to be patriarchal but with Zindzi he tends to be more of a confidante and friend:

My Darling, 23 December! How do you celebrate your 17th birthday so far away from home and from where you have spent 16 years of your life, from relatives and friends, from those who love you and would have brought you beautiful presents and even invited you into their homes or taken you out. How does poor Mum show her love to our last-born in a strange place where she has no income, where she faces numerous p rob lems? For the first time in your life, 23 December will find you without your beloved sister Zeni, and far away from your brother Makgatho, from Rennie and Mandla. In such circumstances is it at all correct to talk of a birthday?

30 October 1977.

I still remember when I saw you on 21/10/79. You were striking in your pantaloons and every fabric in your garments seemed to be crying out for attention, urging all round to take note that this young lady across the partition is Mantu. The imact of your visit on 23/12 is still fresh in my mind. It is a significant gesture for a young lady to spend her nineteenth birthday crossing and recrossing the polluted waters of the Atlantic. Your visit calms the nostalgic feeling that inevitably wells up when I think of how you and I used to play at home and in the other dens in which I used to live. As usual you left me in a tremendous mood. I will always treasure the memory of that visit.

Zindzi's Literary Talents

Zindzi's writing abilities pleased Nelson:

I'm also pleased to learn that you're a True Love columnist and that you have already received your first cheque. That's no small achievement at your age and it is very nice of J.B. to give you such a challenging opportunity. Writing is a prestigious profession which puts one right into the centre of the world and to remain on top, one has to work really hard, the aim being a good and original theme, simplicity in expression and the use of the irreplaceable word. In this regard, you have many able friends who could help you. Benjie is one of them. From your poem which is full of promise, you have the makings of a professional in this field.

4 September 1977

He proved correct, for two years later, when she was fifteen, she published her first anthology of poems in the United States. He longed to see them but was not allowed to do so for some time. Meanwhile he read reviews of the anthology.

TO WINNIE

Zindzi's anthology has not been received but I was allowed to read, but not make notes of, Dr Paton's article in Fair Lady (31/1,79). It is a powerful review written by one whose main purpose was not to introduce Zindzi to the readers of that magazine but to inspire her 'to make joy great and sorrow small'. For that he certainly deserves our thanks.

TO ZINDZI

I am still struggling to get your anthology. I have already told you that I was allowed to read, but not to take notes, from Dr Alan Paton's review of your poetry. I thought your themes were well chosen and your language simple and crisp, so much so that I can still see the black bird insulting the wall, giving you its back and flying off gracefully at an awkward angle; the black beauty 'who reminds me of who I am' I can still see the two hands, the impossibility of having them in one pocket for 'that would be too uncomfortable'. Hope and expectation well up as you call 'come tomorrow. I eagerly await you ...' Nevertheless, Darling. Dr Paton makes a good point when he advises you to go over your poems carefully. Raw feelings will be refined and the rough edges will be polished, putting down words on paper will become an art. As Ernst Fischer says in The Necessity of Art the artist is not mauled by the beast, he tames it. But Mantu, neither Dr Paton's remarks nor mine should be taken as a criticism. They are merely a tip to a girl we both love and respect.

Black as I am turned out to be something quite different from what I had expected. You will no doubt realize the permanent impact good literature can make. Remember that Homer wrote about 1200 BC and yet his works still appeal to this day. But this is an aspect which need not at all worry you. All things considered you have done more than I expected. What Kenneth Roscroft has said about your poetry sums up my own view remarkably well. Your pen is as talkative as our darling Mantu. But the ideas reveal a depth that should be reserved for older hands.

27 January 1980

I don't know to what extent you and Mum were in actual control of the joint project. The arrangement of the outside cover, the precedence of the biographical notes and the contents of each note gave the impression that you were both on the sidelines. I was also not aware that the same firm that published Black as I am was given the right to bring out Black and Fourteen . I wish you had consulted me first and fully about the matter, because I would have discussed the matter with you and Mum and advised differently.

Good use of photography can give even poverty with all its rags, filth and vermin a measure of divineness rarely noticeable in real life. The old man on page twenty-nine looks really strong and majestic. I find it difficult to forget his calm and confident bearing. The weeping lady on page forty-eight looks like our neighbour, Mrs. Mtimkulu. The only difference is that she looks younger than our neighbour should be now.

TO WINNIE:

I laughed and laughed when I heard about Zindzi and FH [Fort Hare]. I realize that more than ever before just how deep-seated the environment in which they were schooled - Rockie Street, Kliptown and then Waterford. It is a real pity that she is losing another year, but I fully understand the reasons, emotional and otherwise, behind her protest and return from FH. Zindzi is a poet and capable of grasping deep meanings with ease. All the same, Zindzi's work would serve wider issues and its main aim should not be commercial or desire for publicity.

6 August 1979

Anticipating Zeni's Swazi wedding and knowing the Swazi custom of young women dancing bare breasted. Nelson wrote to his Zindzi:

Talking about the wedding, I feel confident that you'll do nothing that might embarrass your sister and Muzi. The beauty of a woman lies as much in her face as in her body. Your breasts should be as hard as apples and as dangerous as cannons. You can proudly and honourably display them when occasion demands. In our days it was a common sight to see unmarried women move around with nothing else on their bodies except a 'mini mbaco'. I think it was the famous ballerina, Duncan, who first introduced the modern ballet scanty outfit. She astonished her audience by tearing her clumsy and conservative costume during a performance. With part of her body exposed she yelled, at the same time pointing to that part, "This is the beauty of a woman!'

I badly miss you and hope to see you this month. I've become so selfish, that I find it quite difficult to suppress the temp tat ion of arranging for you to do your first degree in Cape Town when I'd see you monthly. Life would have been ideal, in spite of everything if I could put you, Zazi, Zeni and Mum into my shirt pocket so that you could press against my heart. Perhaps the longing that has been eating me up for years would lessen considerably and I might even feel younger. Also I could peep into that pocket when hard times knocked at my door. The hope that I will see you soon. that I will get a nice letter from you, that perhaps I will be with you for days, weeks and months on end fills my life with expec tat ion and optimism. Meantime, lots and lots of love and a million kisses to you, Mum, Zeni and Zazi. Affectionately, Tata.

5 March 1978

Zindzi's Education

It was real pleasure for me to get some details as to what you're now doing in connection with your 'talents'. Your subjects should be quite interesting. I have forgotten all the history I ever knew and my memory of the Stuart and Tudor periods is very hazy. All that now stands out in my mind is the film Mary, Queen of Scots in which Vanessa Redgrave played the role of Queen Elizabeth. That period is not only important for England but for the entire world, since it marks the end of feudalism and the beginning of the contemporary era of capitalism.

I don't know what textbook you are using on the Cold War and I should certainly like to be told. But the Cold War is the product of two conflicting systems of society - socialism and capitalism - which are competing today in practically every field. But with more contact between the two systems throughout the world and in which they are forced to handle common problems jointly, to cooperate in the space field and the love of peace by the people of the world, the Cold War is now melting away. Finally, darling, I must tell you that I miss you badly for I always enjoy your letters and. of course, I love you very much and get worried whenever you remain quiet for a long time. With lots and lots of love and a million kisses. Affectionately, Tata.

10 July 1978

TO WINNIE:

I have written to Zindzi and also sent her a telegram of good wishes. If nothing disturbs her, she should pull through and we should see her in Cambridge or Wits next year.

27 May 1979

I hope Zindzi, whatever else she may be doing, will not neglect her studies. By all means she must pass the June exams and go to varsity next year. I do not know how children reason at times!

19 November 1979

I am waiting to hear from you whether you have finalized question of Zindzi's studies. I am aware that you are as worried as I am over the question and you may even be annoyed by the pestering.

29 June 1983

I was also sorry to hear that Zindzi was not admitted at Wits. Whatever she is now doing, that can never be as good as advancing her academic education. That means that she will also lose three years, something we cannot afford.

27 February 1979

In regard to your interview with Professor Dugard, you should not at all regret that he has recommended that you first complete A levels before you enter varsity. This will prepare you more thoroughly for Cambridge and give you more confidence in your academic work. Very happy indeed to note that you are back at the school desk. Try and get your A levels out of the way as soon possible and thereafter start with your varsity course. Meantime let me know the subjects you are doing. I hope Oupa will also take his studies seriously. From all that you have told me he seems to be a gifted child and with suitable academic qualifications, he should be quite precious. Have you given up your music lessons? Please don't, if your otherwise heavy programme allows you.

5 March 1978

Oupa Seakamena became a strong family support and both Mandelas came to love him as a son. Zindzi and he became lovers but the relationship cooled and the couple parted. The following extracts express Nelson's welcome to the young man and then his disappointment at the parting:

Our dear Oupa, Zindzi, Zeni and their Mum are full of warm praise for you and have told me how you are helping at home in various ways and that now the shack looks somewhat tolerable, with nice fittings which you made and a garden with trees. They have lived under frightful strains during my absence and it is much safer to have someone like you around most of the time. I am happy to be told that your dad and mum have approved of the arrangement. I am also pleased to know that you have now resumed your studies even if by correspondence.

23 April 1978

Though 1 last saw you only fifty-seven days ago, I miss you very much and my mind frequently wanders between the OFS and Transvaal, between Brandfort and Norwood. I see you yapping with Mum and Oupa and Granny, gossiping about this and that, asking this and that question, listening to the radio, looking at TV in the evening and suddenly grabbing pen and paper as some new idea strikes you, as some inspiration feeds your thoughts and feelings. I say yapping, not yelping, because my old girl and granny are too peaceful to make you cry.

9 September 1979

TO WINNIE

Oupa, 'the dream of an otherwise wonderful boy', who has considerably endeared himself to us and who we once hoped would be a permanent member of the family. I am just as sorry about the whole affair as you are, but we must also respect Zindzi's feelings and views and avoid everything which may suggest that we are forcing her into a relationship she no longer wants. Let us accept the situation and forget altogether about this particular dream.

29 June 1983

By the end of 1979, Brandfort, close police observation and the fact that her mother was persecuted even on account of the friends who came to visit her proved too much for Zindzi and she returned to their Orlando home.

Nelson wrote to Winnie:

I am also disturbed by the fact that Zindzi now lives alone at home. As you know I have complete confidence in her and I fully appreciate her desire to be back where she spent but two years of her life. But she is just too young to live alone or with just Nomfundo [Nelson's niece]. Let Niki [Nelson's sister-in-law] and Marsh [Nelson's brother-in-law] try to get some elderly Aunt to live with her if possible.

10 February 1980

I am equally unhappy about the position of Zindzi, even though I know you are doing your utmost best to solve the p rob lem. We cannot stop the child from insisting on staying at her home, the place where she, her sister and her Mum spent some of the happiest days of their lives, pleasures which were sweet, despite all the harsh experiences that you went through. Home, ever ours, is a home-sweet-home and Zindzi's determinat