Winnie Mandela (3 page)

Yese broke the mould of Xhosa women as ‘the workers, the hewers of wood and drawers of water. They tilled the gardens, built the huts, prepared the food and cared for the children. On journeys, they carried. Nevertheless, any woman of strong mind and determination imposed herself forcefully, and on every level, whether she was a commoner or royal. This is continuously evident, from Ngqika’s mother all the way to Winnie Mandela.’
³

In 1894, nine years after the British established their dominion over Tembuland, they annexed Pondoland, making the Pondo the last of the tribes to come under colonial rule in South Africa. During Faku’s reign, all the land bordered by the Umzimkulu and the Umtata Rivers, the Indian Ocean and the Drakensberg mountains, was Pondoland, but during Shaka’s reign of terror, the
izidukos
[clans] scattered, and many never returned to the land of their ancestors. Faku, chief of the largest and wealthiest of all the tribes, retreated with his followers into the Umgazi area. In 1842, following the death of Dingane, they were able to resettle part of their ancestral land thanks to an agreement negotiated with the British by the missionary and politician Theophilus Shepstone. In return, Shepstone extorted from the Pondo a paramount chieftainship.

When Nelson Mandela was practising as a lawyer, he found a copy of the treaty recorded in a
Government Gazette:

We hereby for ourselves, our heirs and successors and for and on behalf of our respective tribes acknowledge and profess that from and after the execution hereof Theophilus Shepstone, Esquire, is and hereafter shall be, the Paramount and Exclusive Chief and Ruler of ourselves and the tribes belonging to us, as also of the country or territory now occupied or hereafter to be occupied by us or any of us or any part or portion thereof.

And we acknowledge Theophilus Shepstone, Esquire, as such Supreme Chief or Ruler, as effectively and to all intents and purpose, as firmly as if he had been or had become such Paramount Chief or Ruler by succession according to our laws or usage.

The treaty also gave Shepstone ‘the full and complete control of Port St John’s, [the trade line to the Cape], with power and authority to do and perform every act and matter necessary to the proper supervision and management of matters of such Port, short of fiscal alienation to one mile on each side of the river nor extend up its course beyond the influence of the tide’.

Faku signed the treaty on 5 June 1854, and the heads of six other clans – the Nikwe, Mbulu, Xesibe, Boto, Twana and the Ngutyana of Madikizela – signed identical agreements.

During Faku’s lifetime, the British effectively demanded only a
de jure
presence in the region, but his descendants were plagued by problems inherent to the treaty that ultimately led to dispossession of their land.

The Tembu, who had dared to defy – and beat – Shaka, were incorporated into the Pondo, and Faku, in turn, held in some esteem by Shaka, bowed the knee to Madikizela.

This august chess game of shifting power, intrigue and alliances forms the backdrop for the majestic history of the Pondo tribe and the Ngutyana clan – and that of the most famous woman in South Africa’s recent history, Winnie Madikizela-Mandela.

She hailed from an imposing line of authentic and indisputable leaders. During a life beset with tragedy and trial, she ceaselessly demonstrated the well-chronicled characteristics of her ancestors, who were fearless and autocratic, with a natural penchant to command, and typified their dauntless courage, stubborn pride and instinctive aptitude for survival against all odds.

Winnie Madikizela was to the manner born.

‘Without courage, all other virtues become meaningless.’

– Winston Churchill

S
ATURDAY 26 SEPTEMBER 1934
broke exactly the same way as the day before, and the day before that. It was no different from any other day in early spring. The large Madikizela homestead at Idutywa in the Bizana district of the Transkei lay bathed in deep, pre-dawn silence. Gradually, out of the blanching darkness, came the sounds that announced a new day: the twittering and chattering of birds, cocks crowing at dawn; as the light spread, the cool earth warmed up rapidly under Africa’s forbidding sun.

When Nomathansanqa Gertrude Madikizela went into labour, there still was nothing to indicate that the day might mark something special.

The new baby’s first cry should have elicited happy exclamations and congratulations. Instead, initial reaction to the birth of Gertrude’s fifth child was mute disappointment. It was a girl. Yet again, a girl. They had all been hoping for a boy. The tiny baby’s paternal grandmother made no attempt to hide her displeasure as she told the weary mother: ‘You are wasting our time.’ The little girl’s father, Kokani Columbus Madikizela, was equally unenthusiastic, whether from a lifetime habit of respectfully agreeing with his mother, or genuine disappointment. ‘I’m tired of girls,’ he said. ‘I want a boy.’ Gertrude, too, had been praying for another son. Her eldest child was a boy, but Pondo custom dictated that a mother’s possessions were inherited by her youngest son. If Gertrude’s position in the family – indeed her life – was to be at all meaningful, her contribution passed on to her descendants, she needed to bear a second boy.

Little could the Madikizelas have known that the tiny girl to whom they had given such a miserly welcome would become an icon of twentieth-century South Africa, and leave an imprint larger and more important than any other woman – or Madikizela male – on the country’s history.

Columbus Madikizela did not register the baby, because it was not compulsory to record black births. Three months later, Columbus, Gertrude, the grandparents and extended family gathered at the Methodist Church in Idutywa, and in the small corrugated iron building the new baby was christened Nomzamo Zaniewe Winifred. Columbus admired the Germans for their discipline and industrial
achievements, and demonstrated his reverence for both the industrious Aryans and the missionaries who had led him to Christianity by calling his daughter Winifred, the ancient Germanic name meaning ‘friend of peace’. Though rarely used, her first name, Nomzamo, would prove prophetic – it means ‘she who will endure trials’. When she went to school, she became known as Winnie.

Winnie Madikizela’s birthplace was an idyllic spot in a country that was heading towards great turmoil. The Pondoland of her childhood was a luxuriant patchwork in shades of green: vast plains of savannah, cultivated blocks of maize and other crops, and clumps of trees. As far as the eye could see, one hill after another rolled toward the horizon under a jolt-blue sky. The abundance of rivers and streams meant that Pondoland was green in all seasons. There were no roads or power pylons and the only signs of human presence were traditional clay huts, round and white with thatched roofs, strewn across the landscape like scattered pebbles. Every settlement had a cluster of huts of various sizes, depending on the status and prosperity of the family, each one used for a specific purpose – sleeping, cooking, storage, socialising.

The world of the Pondo was prosperous, peaceful and orderly, steeped in the dictates of countless generations. But it was changing. Colonisation was followed by an invasion of missionaries from Europe, traders and farmers, and the demand for labour, land and even the cattle owned by the blacks was threatening a traditional way of life. When the settlers encountered hostility that resulted in skirmishes with the Xhosa, soldiers with superior weaponry were sent to the Transkei to protect them, leading to almost a century of acrimony and bloody warfare. The Xhosa were finally subdued and then systematically impoverished as the discovery of diamonds and gold towards the end of the nineteenth century, and the fledgling industries that mushroomed on the Witwatersrand, gave rise to new demands for cheap labour.

Economic and industrial progress in southern Africa carried a price tag of inevitable upheaval for the indigenous population, seemingly unobserved, and certainly unrecorded, by whites. Land was taken from communities who were forced to obey restrictions and pay taxes, which they neither understood nor could afford. To earn the money they needed, they were obliged to find jobs in the mining and industrial sectors, which in turn doomed them to a life as migrant labourers. Their tried and trusted way of life was receding into oblivion, and the future would bring little but disrupted communities, growing poverty and racial disharmony.

The Madikizela home was within a few hours of Durban, a modern city and popular tourist destination famous for its wide sandy beaches fringing the warm waves of the Indian Ocean. Less visited but equally picturesque was the neighbouring Wild Coast. Port St John’s, subject of a treaty signed by Winnie’s great-grandfather and Theophilus Shepstone, had been developed as a coastal
resort, but – both under colonial rule and apartheid – was reserved for whites only. Even though it was so close, hardly anyone from Bizana had ever been to the coast. For them, the vast blue water of the Indian Ocean and the endless stretch of white sand outlining its edge was the fabric of legend: distant, unreal.

In the 1930s, the district of Bizana was seen as remote, as were most settlements in the hills of Pondoland. But the footprints of the flourishing white population were spreading all across South Africa. The small towns and fertile farms that dotted the countryside were in white hands, and the land the Xhosa had cherished as their own for generations was administered by white officials enforcing their laws with total disregard for ancient traditions and customs.

The life of the rural Pondo was spartan. Winnie’s early childhood was no different than that of any other peasant girl, but the Madikizelas were more privileged than most. Though not affluent, the family was influential and lived comfortably. Her grandfather, Chief Mazingi, had been a prosperous trader and farmer with large expanses of land and twenty-nine wives, and his numerous residences and families were spread between eMbongweni and Idutywa. His land produced a good harvest of maize, and provided grazing for his large herds of sheep and cattle.

Chief Mazingi was a man of vision, with the courage to challenge his own revered traditions and customs. Having realised that illiteracy had rendered his people defenceless against exploitation and subjugation by the white colonists, he was determined that his own children would break the restrictive mould of ignorance. Chief Mazingi was impressed by the Methodist missionaries, who offered education and assistance in a multitude of endeavours. He embraced their God, then employed a teacher and established a school, decreeing that the new generation of Madikizelas would abandon their traditional way of life. His children had no choice but to exchange their familiar and carefree existence for the arduous task of learning to read and write, and acquire the perplexing skills of the white people.

Chief Mazingi flouted tradition even further by appointing his senior wife, Seyina, as his business manager. She was a strong, spirited and intelligent woman with a large body and a booming laugh, which became her trademark. She was also the mother of three daughters and six sons, the eldest of whom was Winnie’s father, Columbus.

The chief was a shrewd businessman, who realised that cooperation with the whites could be turned to his advantage. He gave a large piece of his land to traders in the area, and in return took ownership of a trading post, which Seyina was allowed to continue running when he died. She was the first woman in Pondoland to achieve such status and independence, and was tremendously proud of her singular position. However, when new traders refused to honour the
agreement and took the store from her, her pride and joy turned to deep bitterness and hostility towards whites.

Remote and undeveloped as Pondoland was, the mission schools that sprang up like mushrooms offered new opportunities, and the Madikizela family remained among the forerunners of change in the community. Columbus and two of his brothers became teachers, while another qualified as an agriculturist. One of Seyina’s sons joined her in the business, and the youngest, Xolane, succumbed to the lure of gold and city life and went to work on the mines. Shortly afterwards he contracted phthisis, a form of tuberculosis, and died.

Unlike her husband, Seyina resisted conversion to the Christian faith for as long as possible, but eventually she gave in, exchanging her
isidwebe
[cowhide skirt] for a dress of German print such as was commonly worn by Christian women. But although she attended church, she maintained the traditional rituals that she believed were fundamental to the prosperity and spiritual well-being of her family.

Her son Columbus was a perfect example of the new breed of blacks, embracing both the traditions of his people and the innovations of the whites. He was a christianised schoolteacher in a business suit whose salary was paid by the government. But he was also a proud Pondo leader who was fully aware of the injustices forced upon his people by the white settlers. He taught his pupils the facts as they were recorded in the textbooks: of explorers, settlers and governors representing foreign interests, but he also ensured that they were well versed in the effects of this history on their own people. In time, from her seat in his classroom, his daughter Winnie would soak up both his independent thinking on the politics of South Africa and his resentment against the injustices of colonial rule.

As the son of a tribal chief, Columbus was a man of some influence in the community, even though he had rejected his legacy as head of his tribe in favour of teaching in a mission school. He regularly represented eastern Pondoland at meetings of the territorial council, or Bunga, and since he was fluent in both English and Xhosa, served as interpreter when the tribal court sat at Komkhulu. The fiercely traditional Seyina was intensely disappointed when he turned his back on his birthright, but never confronted him openly and was relieved that he had not totally forsaken his traditional role and responsibilities.