Chapter One
They Never Wept, the Men of My Race
Sunk low on their springs, three weathered white Sierras roar past the wrought-iron gates of Parliament. Heavy, hamlike forearms bulge through the open windows—honking, waving old Free State and Transvaal flags. Hairy fists in the air. I run across the cobblestone street—clutching notepad and recorder—to the old parliamentary venue where the Justice Portfolio Committee is hearing public submissions on what to include in the draft legislation establishing a Truth Commission.
The faces are grim in the hall with its dark paneling, old-fashioned microphones hanging from the ceiling, hard wooden gallery, and green-leather seats. "Bellington Mampe ... Looksmart Ngudle ... Suliman Salojee ... Solomon Modipane ... James Lenkoe ..." A slow litany of names is read out into the quiet hall. The names of 120 peo ... read full excerpt from Country of My Skull: Guilt, Sorrow, and the Limits of Forgiveness in the New South Africa ebook
