‘Underground. Like they were telling on the radio just now,’ Khethiwe said.

‘Yes, we have been working to stop this selling of the land to foreigners.’

‘Christ!’ said Lindi. ‘Don’t you think you should have told me earlier, back in Jo’burg? No wonder I’m a bloody suspect. I’m not here officially, I’m meant to be into conflict resolution, and here I am, wandering about with an underground activist.’

‘I tried to tell you, Lindi. I told you we should not be seen together. There’s still time. You could get out now.’

‘Thanks for the offer but I think it’s just a little late to bail out. How many of you are there?’

‘I can’t tell you, Lindi. I shouldn’t be telling you anything. I’d be putting other people at risk.’

‘So how the police find out about this underground thing?’ Khethiwe was getting back into her stride. ‘They catch some of them?’

‘I don’t think they have caught anybody. It’s too risky for me to try to contact any of them.’ He turned to Khethiwe. ‘I think that stuff on the radio about being one step away from an arrest could be a bluff. They’re close but I don’t think they’re that close. We’ve been careful.’

‘Hang on, Kagiso. If they don’t have any proof, why are we standing here talking like this, like thieves?’

‘Look, they are after me. That much is clear. But which “me” are they after? Kagiso, the Soil of Africa man who is a thorn in their side, or Kagiso, who is a member of Land Collective and co-conspirator in a campaign of violence? I think it is the former. It’s part of their propaganda, shift the blame onto anybody but themselves, like they started off blaming it on the poor Mozambicans.’

‘But if it’s you as head of Soil of Africa you could take them on. Soil of Africa is legitimate. You’ve done nothing – nothing illegal.’

‘It’s not just a question of what I do, it’s what I know. Lindi, remember at the funeral Willemse telling me how I was the last person to see Lesedi alive and how he heard we’d got on very well?’

‘Like a house on fire, was his expression.’

‘Who is this Willemse?’

‘You know, that Coloured minister.’

‘The one making all those speeches and what-what! I don’t like him. He likes to listen to his own voice too much.’

‘That’s him. You’ve got it in one.’

‘Anyway, what were you going to say?’