She shook her head briskly. ‘You are not the first one to think like that. Lesedi was different. He wanted to be different.’

Kagiso glanced at his watch and made a gesture of apology. ‘I have to go, but there is something I …’

‘What is it?’

‘I want you to know … Well, I want you to know that we, I mean the charity I run, we oppose your husband’s way of doing things, but it is not personal.’

‘You have to do what you think is right. And if Lesedi said he wanted to help you, then I will try also. When all of this is over, come and see me. A friend of Lesedi is a friend of mine.’

12

After the funeral, Kagiso went back to his mother’s house in Diepkloof, on the northern edge of Soweto. After much fussing over him by Maude, there was a great deal of reminiscing about life with the Seatons. Maude wanted a description of Lindi, scolding her son for not remembering every detail of her appearance. Then she berated him for not bringing her over that very evening. All this while she cut up a couple of chickens and prepared them for the pot. The son of a poor relative who stayed with her had been sent out for groceries and condiments the minute Kagiso had walked through the door.

Word of Kagiso’s presence spread through their section of Diepkloof, aided by a couple of well-chosen calls from Maude. Before too long, Kagiso found himself in the middle of an impromptu party. There was plenty of talk about the ‘prodigal’ son. His auntie, no doubt prompted by Maude, wanted to know if he’d found anyone special and his nephews wanted to know what the country girls were like.

In the latter part of the evening, conversation inevitably turned to this ‘business’ with Lesedi. One of his mother’s neighbours, a retired railway worker, became quite exercised – and drunk. He ended a dramatic speech, laced with all manner of brandy-fuelled expletives, with the conclusion that he’d known all along that no good would come of all these protests about land. The irony was not lost on Kagiso. A nation that had been born of protest was now tiring of it. But he knew that the old man, the neighbour, probably spoke for many South Africans. Collectively, they were spent. A quiet life was what they wanted after the tumultuous achievement of freedom. Not for the first time he wondered if he was out on a limb.