“Mr. Cyril Malema, I would like to begin by welcoming you and thanking you very sincerely for your willingness to participate in the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Would you please stand and take the oath?”

Cyril takes the oath, his hand placed on the Bible. Both his voice and his fingers tremble.

Dr. Boraine begins his questioning. “Now, Mr. Malema. In your own words, please tell us what you’ve come here today to share with us.”

Cyril clears his throat, the sound discordant in the microphone, and begins speaking. His voice is reedy and tremulous. “I was a member of the Inkatha Freedom Party Youth Brigade in 1984, and I was sent on a mission with Dumisa Khumalo, Jakes Mogwase, and Kabetso Hlongwane that resulted in fatalities.”

Zodwa’s heartbeat, which has already accelerated, begins to gallop at the mention of her brother.

“What mission were you sent on?” Dr. Boraine asks while straightening his glasses.

“I was told to take Jakes and Kabetso to the border so they could cross over for military training.”

“Where exactly was this? And what was the date?”

“It was at the Limpopo River border of Botswana. The date was August 23, 1984.”

This is already more information than Zodwa was ever able to get out of him and she leans forward, eager to hear the rest.

Dr. Boraine consults his notes and then asks, “What about Dumisa Khumalo? Was he also supposed to cross the border?”

“No, sir. Dumisa just came with me for the mission.”

“And what were your instructions?”

“To drop the two men off at a meeting point at the river to meet their contact.”

“Can you tell us what happened that night, Mr. Malema?”

“Yes, sir. When we stopped at the designated spot, Jakes and Kabetso got out of the car to smoke while Dumisa and I stayed inside. As we waited for the contact who would take them across, lights were suddenly trained on us and there was screaming. It was an ambush by the security police, and they opened fire on us.”

Mama Beauty takes Zodwa’s hand and squeezes it as a cry suddenly erupts from an older woman seated off to the side. Judging by the way those around her console her, Zodwa assumes she must be one of the men’s mother. Zodwa wishes she was sitting next to the woman so she could hold her as they both endure this ordeal.

“Did either of the men survive?” Dr. Boraine continues once the woman has quietened down to a whimper.

“No, they were both shot dead. As was Dumisa, while he was sitting in the passenger seat.”

It’s Zodwa’s turn to cry out. Her hands fly up to her mouth, too late to stifle the sound, and Delilah reaches over and wraps her arm around Zodwa’s shoulders.

“And how did the security police know that you were going to be there that night?”