Night fell as a nation held its breath. As cleaners moved around the Union Buildings, which was falling into shadow, the sitting president, Thabo Mbeki, was in his office taking legal advice.
He had expected to be fired by the ANC's national executive committee (NEC) that day, exactly a week after a damning verdict by Judge Chris Nicholson in the Pietermaritzburg High Court had implied he had interfered in the prosecution of ANC president Jacob Zuma. But still, there was an official silence from the committee.
Once he'd locked up, he went home where he sat down with his deputy Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka. He tried to persuade her to stay on but, within hours, she had made her choice and told him she would leave.
Meeting at Esselen Park in Kempton Park, the NEC had argued all day.
To the nation, it might have seemed as if Mbeki had won an 11th-hour reprieve that Friday night, with no official word yet from the NEC. But few insiders took that opinion seriously. Mbeki's legal adviser Advocate Mojanku Gumbi was in close contact. There was talk of bringing an interdict against the NEC.
By the time the 89-strong committee had filed into their places for what would undoubtedly be their most important meeting since Morogoro in 1969 and then Kabwe in 1985, a number of positions had been ready to be presented. Although it was generally felt that the committee had quickly reached consensus that Mbeki must step down, the more difficult - and, for some, painful - debate, continued as delegates went home that night for a brief rest before the final deliberations of Saturday.
The biggest question now was: how should Mbeki be allowed to go? It was no minor affair to have to be party to a choice that affected not only one of the ANC's great families and most respected sons, but also the country.
Assured of his position, Mbeki was said to have informally convened his kitchen cabinet and his inner circle during the day on Friday. This group included Gauteng premier Mbhazima Shilowa. The president was clear-headed: he was prepared to hand over power.
ANC secretary general Gwede Mantashe's closing announcement to the media on the Friday night was more open-ended. He said the NEC would certainly arrive at a decision on the Saturday, but it was still having discussions about Nicholson's judgment. The meeting had ended at an intense point. Mantashe reminded, if not chided, an impatient press corps that the crisis for the movement was profound.
At least 30 NEC members had not yet given their input. An undeniable hostility had dominated the meeting. For one thing, Zuma had presented an argument for Mbeki to serve out the remaining months of his term, but this was not a popular position. If Zuma sought a diplomatic route, symbolic, somehow, of the many years he spent as a close comrade of Mbeki in exile, he would have to fight for it.
The meeting had also been dogged by debate about the status of Mlambo-Ngcuka. Her antagonists, those who harboured mistrust of her since her husband Bulelani Ngcuka had been the first national director of public prosecutions to investigate Zuma, wanted her to leave immediately.
But by the Friday night, she had already made it known she wanted to step down, along with Public Enterprises Minister Alec Erwin.
Loud words of caution had been issued from inside the NEC, particularly from Social Development Minister Zola Skweyiya and Arts and Culture Minister Pallo Jordan. The notion of a witch hunt was out of line, they said. Dignity should be the watchword.
Other worries would be about the imminent collapse of government. If Mbeki's closest political allies decided to go with him, the impact on the day-to-day running of the national administration could be devastating. This had to be carefully managed, so there was fractious lobbying by those on the NEC who were also part of the cabinet. There were heated phone calls and SMSes.
Trevor Manuel was key. Earlier in the week there were indications he would go. But by the Friday, there had been reassurances he would stay in his job. Sitting inside the hall as a member of the NEC, Manuel would be a critical point of reference for many of his comrades but, to the world outside, he was not as forthcoming. His spokeswoman Thoraya Pandy said he had nothing to say. Economists seemed to agree. Any effect on the market had been overblown.
On the Saturday morning, an exhausted NEC returned to Esselen Park, some of them having barely slept.
It would be only hours until it was all over for Mbeki. He had already called a special cabinet meeting for the Sunday at which he would announce his decision to step down as head of state at the request of his party.
Concern would now quickly shift to who would become caretaker president, and it was believed Baleka Mbete, the speaker of the National Assembly, would take over. To this, the champions of Kgalema Motlanthe, ANC deputy president, were derisive.
So again the NEC was being pulled from side to side as the nation waited to hear if the president would be allowed to leave office with dignity or be fired in disgrace. Throughout the day, journalists readied themselves for press conferences while deadlines came and went.
At last, the decision was taken in the early hours of the morning: Mbeki would be recalled. Accompanied by Motlanthe, Mantashe left seven hours later to officially tell the president it would be best if he quietly departed office. Sitting opposite his two comrades at Mahlambandlopfu, his home in Pretoria, Mbeki agreed.
Some ministers and those connected to the defiant political process were woken at 3am with the news. As with all sudden calls at that hour, an announcement of death was expected.
Journalists woke up on the Sunday to an invitation to a photo shoot at the Union Buildings for the cabinet meeting called by the president. From early on, crews set up their cameras, and photographers considered the best place from which to get the shot that would help to define a president's last chapter.
Spokesman Mukoni Ratshitanga had issued a mere one-sentence statement: "Following the decision of the national executive committee of the ANC to recall President Thabo Mbeki, the president has obliged and will step down after all constitutional requirements have been met."
It would be mid-afternoon before the ministers and their deputies started arriving, many of them driven by chauffeurs. To deflect attention, some made jokes with the journalists, throwing them off guard, but Mbeki confidantes, such as a drawn Public Service and Administration Minister Geraldine Fraser-Moleketi, couldn't conceal the tension. She arrived shortly before her husband, Deputy Finance Minister Jabu Moleketi, who seemed more relaxed.
Deputy Safety and Security Minister Susan Shabangu was also on edge. But Intelligence Minister Ronnie Kasrils was more jocular, approaching the media to tease them about working on a Sunday. Defence Minister Mosiuoa Lekota ribbed bodyguards.
It would be an hour of waiting as journalists prepared to be allowed inside the amphitheatre of the cabinet room, which had become like an inner sanctum to host Mbeki's last meeting with his ministers. Once inside, the unexpectedly light mood surprised.
Notably absent, though, were Foreign Affairs Minister Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma and Manuel, who had to fly to New York for the UN General Assembly meeting which was to have been addressed by Mbeki.
There had been a stir when Justice Minister Brigitte Mabandla arrived hand-in-hand with her at-times-confrontational deputy Johnny de Lange. Mabandla had been so entwined in the controversy around charging Zuma, with suggestions she, too, had interfered in the office of the National Prosecuting Authority.
Erwin and Local Government Minister Sydney Mufamadi also arrived together. Both would leave government with Mbeki, who arrived with Motlanthe.
Ever-convivial Deputy Foreign Minister Aziz Pahad shared a laugh with his brother Essop outside on the balcony of the amphitheatre, where they were in conversation with Deputy Sports Minister Gert Oosthuizen. But it was scant cover.
Many ministers battled to hide their shock at the NEC's decision to oust Mbeki. Those who were still making up their minds about staying or going, would later say that as soon as Mbeki formally announced his decision to them that Sunday, they were resolved.
That night, South Africans gathered everywhere to witness the president's farewell address, broadcast live on TV and radio. It was a speech that urged the intensification of the ideals of the struggle and against despondency.
But Mbeki was also determined in his rejection of suggestions he had become involved in having Zuma prosecuted for fraud and corruption. He invoked the giant, Nelson Mandela, and many were desperate to find some emotion in his face.
Zuma made the long-awaited statement on behalf of the NEC, describing its decision as one of the most difficult it had taken in the history of the party and acknowledging the pain it had caused to Mbeki. He said the committee appreciated the dignified manner in which Mbeki had conducted himself.
By the Monday, South Africa - somewhat bruised - was already challenged to move forward. It was quickly announced at a parliamentary caucus meeting of ANC MPs - addressed by party deputy secretary Thandi Modise - that Motlanthe was set to become the country's next president.
Chaired by Nozizwe Madlala-Routledge, the meeting would, however, not soften a complex moment in the life of some of the party's stalwarts.
Several cabinet ministers were present, including old fighters and Mbeki allies such as Skweyiya and Mabandla. They sat quietly to take in the truth.
The markets, meanwhile, simply shrugged off the drama.