Xolela Mangcu discovered this letter in the archives of the Institute for Commonwealth Studies on the day of Ahmed Kathrada's death.
26th December 1971
My Dear Dasso,
Its literally been many years that I’ve been planning to write to you and Sally, but for one or another (reason) I just could not get down to it. Now on the threshold of yet another year, I thought I should start off this one with a clear conscience.
I’m in the hope that we will henceforth be in regular contact. It is about 5pm on Boxing Day. We’ve already had supper – at the end of a pleasant day. I don’t know how much you’ve heard of our way of life here, but I shall risk boring you with certain aspects.
We’re in the midst of our annual games competition. We simply divided the 30 of us into 2 teams – the Phiris and the Arrows – which competed in about 10 games This first part is in fact over, and my team lost. We’re now busy with knock-outs.
I find the latter more enjoyable. One gets coupled with a different partner for every game and in this way the matches are less tense. And there is absence of the group desire to win at all costs. When the games are over, we’ll be having a little prize-giving ceremony when the winners will be presented with sweets.
I don’t know if you ever met Billy, from Durban. Well, he and I are the Klaberjas champs and are looking forward to sweetening our mouths. By the way, in case you don’t know, Klaberjas is a Cape cards game, played mainly by non-whites.
Today I personally played only scrabble and T. Tennis, but feel a bit tired nevertheless. While I’m writing this there is music over the loudspeaker system – most of it new to me. I’ve been in jail too long and can see myself having to catch up on a lot of things when I come out one day. Some of the songs are sentimental and make me quite nostalgic, especially at this time of the year. You know this is my 9th Xmas in jail. I cannot help but think back constantly to my last Xmas outside. Tho’ I was under house arrest it was not without a great deal of fun. Jail, however, has not been without its compensation.
Study-wise, as you must probably know, I completed a BA in 1968 and, until this year, was busy with the B Bibliography (ie librarianship). I have 11 courses to my credit, and have 4 more to complete, which I hope to do when I’m given my study privileges again. I’ve also picked up a bit of Xhosa and German. Besides, I’ve been able to get a rudimentary introduction to the treasures of English literature. Healthwise I haven’t done badly either. Besides slight arthritic pains in the joints I haven’t any ailments. I’ve been doing regular exercises and feel much better for it.
It is comforting not to have to worry about one’s calorie intake. Then, unlike you city dwellers, we don’t have the problem of pollution. We breathe the fresh, cool, rural air while looking on at the smoke of ‘civilization’ hovering over beautiful Cape Town just a few miles away. No, if it weren’t for some of the essentials which we have access to, I’d almost recommend a few years stay on the Island.
I believe you’re still very much a teacher, having done some special courses and all. How is Sally doing? And Venita must be a young lady by now. I don’t suppose she remembers me. I’m afraid I’ve forgotten the name of the little chap. And Navraj and Addy and the kids, of whom I can only remember Zoya. I’m sure you all must have quite decided that I’d forgotten you. I can just imagine Addy in a moment of anger cursing, “that bloody Kathy, who seems to have forgotten us all”. And what about all the fish curry he’d been gorging himself with.
No, you have all been constantly in my thoughts, and I do remember the nice times we had. By the way, you were at the very last picnic we held at Mia’s farm, weren’t you? With those huge pots of food prepared by Fati, and of course the liquid refreshments.
It was lovely.You remember my lady friend, Yasmin, who was with me there? I must end now. Please reply soon, and write directly to me. Also send me your address. Lots of love to you, Sally, Venita, Navvy, Addy and the rest of the family and friends. Best wishes for 1972 from AMKwww.
I was soaking in tears by the end of this letter for two reasons. The first is the extraordinary humanity deep in the dungeons of inhumanity. No political and ideological tracts could come close in taking us deep into the humanity of Ahmed Kathrada, and the group of men who spent two decades on that dreadful island prison.
The second reason is how I discovered the letter – in the archives of the Institute for Commonwealth Studies on the exact day of his death. I was supposed to meet with Kathrada in November last year for an interview about his friend Nelson Mandela.
Now I kick myself for postponing that meeting. But I would like to think that it’s his spirit that took me there. Rest in peace, Sir, you shall not be forgotten. We shall write back directly to you in search of the wisdom of your guidance in these troubled times. With lots of love to you too, and eternal gratitude for your sacrifice.
* Xolela Mangcu is Professor of Sociology at the University of Cape Town, and has authored or co-authored nine books.
** The views expressed here are not necessarily those of Independent Media.