the morning paper, the Cape Times, carried the story of the child murdered on the beach. Front page, the story made - Sindiwe Magona

Instead of being kind and buying this and that for the maid, just translate the kindness to this woman’s wages […]

Tatomkhulu was a fund of facts that, although seemingly different, made a whole lot of sense of some of the things we learned at school. He explained what had seemed stupid decisions, and acts that had seemed indefensible became not only understandable but highly honourable.

She was not robbed. She was not raped. There was no quarrel. Only the eruption of a slow, simmering, seething rage. Bitterness burst and spilled her tender blood on the green autumn grass of a far-away land. Irredeemable blood. Irretrievable loss.