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KAM\ NIB\ KANIOLA LIVES J EGACIES LEGENDS

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7 7 KAmIMBA KANDOLA MAN AND MYTH Tiii, BIOGRAPHY 01-- A BAR11,1,00T SOLDIER Ellen Ndeshi Narnhila Basel Basier Afrika Bibliographien 2005 LIVES GACIES GENDS

D/-/ 1M,1 L ,'1 1) i //, 1 1/11/1 //il 0 The atithors 0 'The photographiers 0 Basler Afrika Bihliographjen PO) Box 20>37 C11-4001 Basel Switzerland \vmwhas le rafriRa. ch All rights reserved Everv effort wvas made to trace the co>pyright holders of photographs oised in this publication. 'Wc apologise for any incomplete or incorrect acknomwledgemnents. Cover photograph: Eliaser lTuhadeleni, also know n as Kaxtimba kaNdola, in the late 1980s after his release fromn 18~ years of imprisonmient on Robben Island, South Africa, and variouls other Southi African and Namnihian prisons. Photographer: 1'nlknoxsn. Nlap: 'Namnibia', has been adapted fromn I/Alä of NXwnibi(i. A1 Poi-ajt ofticLalldalldits People by John Nlendelsohn, Alice JurN is. Carole Roberts, and Tony Rohertson. Cape 1'ossn: 1>ohlishecd for thc Nlinistry of Ens ironment and 'Iburism by D)avid Philip Publishers, 2002. Lavout design: Al-TA Nlarketing Kommunikation AG, Basel Printing: 'lypoprinr (Ptv ) Ltd.- Windhoek (Namnibia) ISBIN 3 905141 86S ISS\ 1660- 9638

Contents Foreword, by Andimba Toivo yaToiuo VII Acknowledgements IX Who Was Kaxumba kaNdola? 1 Excelling at an Early .\ic 4 Okaholo 6 The South \\est African Native Labour Associarion 7 On the Iarmn 9 Krantzberg \line Strike (1943) 11 The Workers 13 Kaxumba Gets Nlarried 18 Kaxumba as a N lcmber of the Comnitunmr 20 Political Formation 25 The Land Question 20 The Contract Labour S\'stcm 29 Namutoni 31 Resolving Workers' Problems 32 Campaigning and Nlobilising 35 Kaxumba Is Arrested 37 The Judgement 39 Kaxumba Is Deported 39 Meeting Chief Kaningwalenga 42 Nieeting Native Commissioner Strydom 43 The 'Save Kaxumba' Efforts 45 Is Kaxumba Dead? 46 Kaxumba Returns and S\WAPO Meetings Resume 48 .\I Father and His Politics 49 III Namibia, the International Community, and the Military Option 53 The Visit by I'N Envoy Victorio Carpio 53 The International Court of J ustice 55 Going into Exile 56 Kaxumba Receives the First PLAN Combatants 59 Kaxumba's Htomestead Is Attacked 61 Another Group of Combatants Arrives 64 IV Omugulu gwombashe Attacked 66 The Security Police, Nleme Priskila, and the Children 69 Winning the Hearts and Nlinds 79 Kaxumba under Co\ er e3

V The Legend 88 l'the 1971/72 Vorker, Strike, 92 I)id Kaxtudha I lax e Eremnicx? 93 VI The Hero Falls into the Enemy's Net 96 I lush-i I ush 96 lcmnoric and Rememlrance 99 Mccting Shiitorondo l 100 Intcrrogation 1(2 'The I'rial 104 'The International (Commniflt\ and the 'Tlihadeleni Trial 118 ''he DaN of Judgement 11(0 VII Robben Island 114 Ch1 orchi Service 1210 Visits to Robben Island Prison 12)0 Mcnimc Priskila Visits Robben Island 121 'hc Police "I'ormented M C upon Nl\ Return 125 Letter from Robhcn Island 12.8 Visiting Nl )ad on Robhen Island 128 Disabled for iLife 130 VIII Kaxumba Freed 134 lemec Priskila 134 Security Irolcinms 136 Escape into Exile 139 IX The Return Home 142 Acronyms 146 Glossary 147 Illustrations 149 Bibliography 151 Index (Names, Organisations, Places) 153

Foreword Kaxumba kaNdola, also kno\ n as I'liascr 'Tlhadelen i, is well remembered for the sacrifice and cnormous contribution he and his familh made to\\ ards the struggle for the freedom and liberation of Namibia. In northern Namibia, he is still remembered as a man of mx th and legend, as a pillar of strength and courage to stand up against colonial domination and apartheid. Kaxumba w as a very peaceful man, \\ho had no tolerance for injustice, lie \\as a hardworking man, c\ en in his old agc. When he returned to his borne after Namibia had at last gained freedom, Kaxumba still had the energy to rebuild his house \\ith his bare hands w ith hardis an\ financial support. I met the late Eliascr Tuhadelcni when he \as a gua\ a seller at Oluno, and again later when I arri\ ed in Cape Town in June 1 952, where I found him \\ orking for a construction company. The late Tuhadeleni was a generous man, who accommodated all the Namibian nc\coners in Cape lim n. The narie Kaxuimba kaNdola originates from when lie ised to sing in church. The name literally means 'the organ of kndola'. \\hen he left Cape To" n around about 135 , he bought two Organs, one for the church and one for himself. Comrade Kaxumba was courageous and fearless. For instance, when he was arrested and kept in the house of headman Elia \\'c\ ul for a long period of time, he got so fed Lip with his house arrest one day, that he decided to leave \\ ith his handcuff", on and go home. No one followed him. Once, when there was a conflict in Ombalantu between headman Kaimbi and members of SWAPM (South West Africa People's Organisation), which led to the arrest of Comrade Benvamin (Shimbu), Comrade Shimbu was placed in the headman's kraal inder house arrest. He too, one day, decided to walk as\ ay with his handcuffs on and reported to Comrade Kaxumba's home. Kaxumba removed the handcuffs and took them to Ondangwa to \Ir Webber, who was the equivalent of the l)eputy Native Commissioner. Shimbu was freed and people wondered at how e\en the Commissioner just let Kaxumba have his swaN. Kaxumba \\ as an excellent organiser, an outstanding speaker, and an honest man. He was highly respected by the contract workers for w hom he acted as spokesperson. He \\ as a politician, who knew how to talk to the people in order to get their support. His disads antage lay in his lack of education. Kaxumba did not get proper schooling and he could not express himself well in languages other than his mother tongue. Those Of us who were there remember that the political meetings, held under the banner of OPO (Ovamboland People's Organisarion) and later SWAPO, were called ooongiyaKaxumha (Kaxumba's rallies), because he was the main mobiliser. When SWAPO sent its first combatants from Tanzania to Namibia in 1965, they were given clear instructions by the Party to report to Comrade Eliaser Tuhadeleni Kaxumba kaNdola, because of his self-sacrificing nature, generosity, honesty, and dedication to the liberation struggle. His house became the first SWAPO military base inside Namibia, until the South African police force started looking for combatants there. There was a shoot-out at a cuca shop belonging to a Portuguese businessman at Ehenge Lomushii in Angola. After a police investigation, it was found that some of the ammunition was Russian made. This gave rise to the police's suspicious, leading to a raid on Comrade Tuhadeleni's home. The combatants then moved away with their ammunition to establish other bases in the bush. Kaxumba joined them and was made second-in-command.

In cuc course, the Sooth African apartheid regime arrested Kaxumha and sentenced him to life imprisonment on Rohbcn Island. I lis legacy li\ cs on even after his death. It is the legacy of peopie like the late ka\timha that li\ cs on, helping us to remember, to look back, to understand wvho \\ c havc been and who \\ c are and from where we have come, and hopefully pa\ c the \\aI aor oir dcstin. For those wiho wish to undcrstand the political dynamics of the liberation struggle from the point of \ ic\ of people at the grassroots, and the mass mobilisation of the people to support and join the struggle for liberation, I urge " ou to read this book. It was not easy to mobilise the people to stand up for their rights, and to rise against a powerful, oppressix e colonial government that used its entire means to crush any opposing views. Our thanks go to our founding fathers, the un\ avcring 'T1hadeleni and others, who kept the fire of the struggle burning. liua Comrade 'lihadeleni., lhaalutt itiua. Andimba Jl'ivo vaToivo April 2005

Acknowledgements This book has many grandmothers and grandfathers to whom I am grateful. Writing is a vcry lonely affair and at some stage the writer needs to debate about her work, especially when writing about the life history of a public figure about whom almost everyone forms their own opinions. The subject, Kaxumba kaNdola, also known as Noah Eliaser Tuhadeleni, has a tender appeal to many Namibians and some even speak as if they owned him. So, when I started this research, I was \ ery privileged to have the assistance of )r Mose Tjitendero in discussing Kaxumba kaNdola, and he encouraged me to put my scattered thoughts into print. I want to thank Ndahambelela Rosalia Tuhadeleni without whom this book would not have been. She was very helpful in pointing out a number of areas in her father's life on which most of my themes were built. She was alw ay s available to me to discuss or ask any questions. About eight months after Tuhadeleni's death, I met his political friend, Tare Andimba Toivo yaToivo, in the street, standing in front of the foyer to the Kalahari Sands Hotel. I told him about my interest in writing Kaxumba's biography and he was really moved by the idea and encouraged me to pursue the project without any further delay. 'Tate yaToivo w\as very generotis in giving me all his private time, on Sundays and Saturdays, until he had exhausted all he knew about Kaxumba. I am very grateful to him for encouraging me to write and for giving me valuable information about Kaxumba's life. Tate Helao Shituwete talked about Kaxumba as if he were his biological father. He too, as a son of Kaxumba's neighbour, provided me with valuable insights into Tuhadeleni's political and family life. The following persons have, through interviews, helped me understand the larger Namibian history through the eyes of Kaxumba. They are Johannes Stephanus, Wilhelm and Ndeshihafela Haimbangu, Hatutale, Hipangelwa, Joseph Sheya, Johannes Amwaalwa, Eelu Kambambi, Noah Tuhadeleni, Julius Shilongo, Johannes Silas, Erastus Shamena, Kandina Kaute, Ndaambe va Nakale, Haimbagu Kapolo, Rev Dr Abisai Shejavali, Aina Thobias and Bishop Dr Zephania Kameeta. I thank Dr Lazarus Hangula, Dr Dag Henrichsen, and Dr Jeremy Silvester for reading through my draft manuscript. During the interviewing period, I became a bit worried that people were paying too much attention to the Kaxumba mythology of changing into objects. I discussed my worries with Dr Hangula, who advised me to concentrate on what the people were telling me instead of worrying whether Kaxumba actually changed into objects or not. This was indeed good advice, and, as it comes out, it was the myth which interested most people who read the manuscript. John Otto Nankudhu taught me some never-to-be-forgotten Values about dealing with a public hero, as well as the sensitivity needed in asking and phrasing my questions. I approached Jleme Priskila Tuhadeleni, four months after the passing away of her husband, to ask her permission to continue writing her husband's story despite his sudden death. I am so grateful to her for giving me her consent, as w ell as her husband's personal and political contacts for me to interview them. The co-operation I received from many of the respondents was due to her, because she personally introduced me to many of these people, who in turn trusted me with their most valuable information.

The publishers and I gratefully ackno'wledge the editorial help from Dr Cynthia Cohen (Paris) and Councillor Joseph Auala (Gamsberg Macmillan Windhoek) in preparing this manuscript fur publication. I am very grateful to bite Johannes Nakanyala (Shitorondo) and his wife Ndamono vaShinrwandi Nakans ala and to Andreas Shivute and his wife Loini Shivute, for trusting me with the information surrounding Kaxumba's arrest. I am grateful to Fillemon Ndjambula, Councillor of the ()lkonda Constituency, for introducing me to local residents in the vicinit\ where Kaxumba was arrested. Aukl, lartha Nantinda, in whose house Kaxumba was arrested, her sun Kapugulu, and daughter Helvi, help preserve the memorv of this unfortunate arrest. I am indebted to the Carl Schlettwein Foundation and Nlr Schlettwein personally for the generous financial support and persistant encouragement. I thank my husband, Werner Hillebrecht, for his stubborness and provocative criticism. l\ daughter, Monde Nlatengu, provided much secretarial help during the fieldwork and typed tip my work during school holidays. Ellen Ndeshi Namhila April 2005

Iie, Repn)rt 4f the ,,to, Smitl \\t LnlrIC ('['ic ( )derdaal 12/1196J4.l''tr : ff z

I Who Was Kaxumba kaNdola? Ka.xwnba aas a very generous man. W1hen I arrived in Cape lbhn for the first time in 1952, he made me a kind offer to stay 'ith him until I got a place of my own. Ilany NVanibians going to Cape Tow for the first tme lived with Kaxumlba or came to him for meals. He was a ver' charitable man who helped his fellow country men without expecting anything in return. Andimnba Toivo yaToivo Tate Kaxamba was a great man. I regarded him as my father and a great friend. I joined SII APO because of him. He was the one who recruited me into StWAPO and made me realise the need to stand up and to fight forjustice and for what is right. Tate Kaxumba opened m eyes to the ideas of liberation and independence and he was my political mentor: It was because of him that I and many other people of ny age became active SIAPO members. He was a courageous and inspiring father, comrade and friend. He w'as an amazing man in the weay, he did and said things, his nature of loving and caring, yet straightforward in his dealings. With him you always knew where you stood on any issue. Helao Shituwete I went from village to village, from community to community in northern Namibia asking people 'who is Kaxumba kaNdola?' I was told he was 'a guerrilla fighter, a freedom fighter who changes into objects in order to camouflage himself from the South African Security Police' and that he was also 'a well- known singer'. I asked a retired schoolteacher in Ongwediva, who Kaxumba kaNdola was, and he said to me: If you want to know about Kaxumba, I will tell you a story. I did not know him personally, but have heard all sorts of stories about him. I came face to face with Kaxumba during the ploughing season of 1960 when the traditional authority at Ohangwena issued a general invitation to a public meeting. A high-level delegation of South African white officials from Pretoria as well as their representative from Windhoek also attended. At this meeting, the senior headman of Oukwanyama told the gathering that: 'There are people in this country who are going around confusing our people with their SWAPO communist ideology and trying to turn our country to communism. I urge you to reject and isolate these communists and to report them to the police. These activities can no longer be tolerated and during this meeting we shall demonstrate to you our seriousness about rooting out SWAPO communism from our society. You will see for yourself how we are going to shoot and kill Eliaser Tuhadeleni who is the leader of the SWAPO people and notorious for creating a lot of trouble for this tribal authority. He will die here today at this meeting. We want this to happen openly so that you can all see for yourself that we are not playing when we say that Swapo must be destroyed, it must be buried by each and everyone of you and never to be heard of again. All SWAPO leaders must be killed. Kaxumba must be killed today in front of this gathering so that you can all see what will happen to you if you follow in his footsteps. I warn all of you that if you want to live like Kaxumba then you must be willing to die like him.'

There \\as a big uproar from the crowd and people were clearly shocked by the harsh words from one of their traditional leaders. We were all fully aware that according to the customs of otir people, the traditional authorities never condemn their subjects to death. It is never done or never heard of. E\ en war prisoners captured during an invasion by another tribe Nere not killed. 'lhey may be exchanged by relatives against goods and cattle or left as slas es, but not killed. Also, the hearings at the traditional courts were open to any member of the community to hear the stor\ of the accused as well as the defendant. After listening to evidence for and against, the person chairing the hearing asked all present that 'You have listened to the two sides, is there anyone who wants to give further evidence, comments or judgement on the case?' People discussed the cases and commented on the judgements. In Kaxumba's case, there was no hearing on the matter. The chief only read out the verdict to us, but we did not know how he arris ed at it. The cro\d was told to keep silent and the chief proceeded \\ith the meeting. People from all parts of Owambo attended this meeting. They were shocked by the cruel decision to condemn Kaxumba to death without a hearing. Ilowever, none of them stuck out their necks in protest for Kaxumba's life. \We were afraid to protest against the chief's decision and did not know what to do. Someone suggested that we must go to Ohalushu to fetch Simon Kaukungwa to come and lead the protest or tell the people what to do. Ohalushu was about ten kilometres from Ohangwena. It was not possible to get there on foot and to return to this meeting. The chief was determined to have Kaxumba's life terminated and called upon one of the senior headmen to come forward. He handed him a machine gun and ordered him to shoot and kill Kaxumba. The senior headman accepted the responsibility and moved forward. Suddenly, all the white officials stood up. got into their cars and fled the scene. They left the meeting without saying a word. In the meantime, the headman got into action and cocked his gun, pointing it at the whole gathering. Everyone sat silently waiting for things to happen. Suddenl. Kaxumba stood up quietly amongst the people and said: 'Dear senior headman, I understand you love these people above all else and this is why you want to get rid of me and saN e them from my political influence. Please, do not pose a further danger to them by shooting at me while I am sitting between them. They may loose their lives because of me. Please wait for me to move out of the gathering to the empty space over there so that you can shoot me without hurting these innocent people whom we all love so much. One thing, if you shoot me while in the crowd my blood may spill all over on the bodies of these people and wherever my blood lands new seeds for the struggle will gromw I am sure you do not want to assist in the process of planting more seeds for the struggle, do you?' For the first time I realised that Kaxumba had a voice of authority, vet was calm and very composed. He was a real politician who knew what he was doing. The senior headman looked startled and very shaken. So, Kaxumba started moving out of the crowd and walked straight and tall about 20 metres away from the crowd. There he stood alone. He lifted up his arms and his body made a cross sign. He spoke again. He called out the headman's name and surname and said, 'please shoot me no\'. The headman walked toward Kaxumba with his gun pointing at him. He suddenly stood and took tip a shooting position. He cocked his gun and cocked it again. Pointing the gum firmly toward Kaxumba, the headman \% ent for the trigger. At this point some people were praying.

I heard someone saving 'Amen'. We looked on motionlessly, waiting for the shot. Suddenly, we saw the headman turning his gun Ip, then down, and then he laid it on the ground and broke into tears. 'You child of Noah's clan, what do vou want from me, what do yoLi want from me', he cried. People watched in amazement. The senior headman and his gun, trembling and weeping like a child. The chief who assigned him the task and other senior headmen came to comfort him and moved him away from the crowd. The meeting ended in disarray. Kaxumba, his followers and sy mpathisers were rejoicing. From there on, people talked. The senior headman was ordered to kill Kaxumba, he was given a gun, but instead of shooting he ended tip trembling with fear, shaking like a leaf and weeping like a baby. These are big things. We later heard that Kaxumba was the son of Lyaalala Noah "[uhadeleni, a famous e/enga [senior headman] who had diplomatic functions during the reign of King Niandume, and the grandson of Inamutwika Nutale Inamufava Mupwilikine, who too was a well- known elengea in the Oukwanyama Kingdom.This senior headman w as supposed to know Kaxumba's background better and to avoid associating himself with plans to have him killed. As the story unfolded we heard that the senior headman was not sure how people would receive him should he kill Kaxumba. He feared risking his reputation amongst his followers and some of the traditional leaders. The senior headman could not help but cry for pity over what could have happened to his life, his reputation, his acceptance in the community as a traditional leader should he have been the one to put an end to the life of Kaxumba kaNdola, the son of the people's blood and the voice of the community. We left Ohangwena feeling happy, victorious, and singing: Kaxum/,a kaldo/a K axomba kaNdola Hai k Io/#nlk'ele Let roe tell \0u lao fl/a ka/i \Vorrv no more O-SIIAPO ore ra. SWAPO has cine. To those of us who attended that meeting, this incident demonstrated to us that we were on the right side, the winning side. We had brave leaders, our leader had shown his bravery even when the enemy threatened him. Kaxumba was our hero and the enemy feared him, he made us feel great. The enemy knew that our resistance was solid. The stories of the trembling senior headman, fearing to shoot Kaxumba, spread like wildfire in the community, and this helped to spread the message of resistance amongst the people. We were proud of Kaxumba. He gave his life to the struggle, to sweep away the machinery of oppression and exploitation. Kaxumba always intervened in local conflicts between the colonised and colonisers. A man of the people, indeed a man of honour, whose standing in the liberation struggle was itself a measure of self-sacrifice and devotion. Hie was a source of inspiration to his fellow men and women. The community, with strong roots of collectiveness and brotherhood, embraced the idea of liberty and social justice as preached bv Kaxumba. We wondered why the appearance of the South African Govemrnent officials at that meeting seemed so innocent, as if they had nothing to do with the planned killing. Wc were later informed by one of the senior headmen that 'it was the South African authorities that feared Kaxumba's influence in the community and they wanted him dead. They supplied the gun and the bullets and gave instructions that one of us was to shoot Kaxumba in public. Some of us left without attending the public meeting, because we did not agree with the agenda. l'hev instructed us behind closed doors to do their dirty work because they obviously did not want to get their ow n hands dirty. To the members of the public it appeared as if the traditional authorities wanted to kill 'lihadeleni, while in actual fact this was the colonial governmcnt's doing. Although not all of us wanted to go along with this decision, we did not have the courage to outrightly refuse this instruction. These officials knew that it was unlawful for the government to kill a person or to order its subject to be put to death without trial, that is wh\ they left before the would-be assassin pulled the trigger.' This incident helped its to understand the enemy's thinking and their tactics to hide behind the traditional authorities and to manipulate them against their own people. Also, talking to you now made me realise the importance of our independence government's policy of National Reconciliation, because without it families and friends of war victims might have insisted that known persons be answerable for their past actions. It was clear, society condemned the actions of their chiefs who instead of fighting back to restore the traditional order of things, collaborated with the enemy who overthrew and killed their kings and made their people destitute. The people noted this incidence with much concern, and like all major issues that are of critical concern to the community, it was taken up through a song: Omal,',, mio/i /d/(/lldwambol1,o. Si,. chief" can bC bought with money, /. AO,', Lecc, Omnll/rwmu nutli 0wuij ii 110ipta, Chiefs can he a scorpion under a tree bark, e- At ".cc . This song was sung mainly at social occasions like marriages, cattle and Niarula wine festivals and many other cultural celebrations where people had an opportunity to voice gratitude, joy, disappointment or fear through singing and dancing. Singing was one of the methods used, especially by women, to express themselves and to bring out social issues that bothered them in the community. This is an art they learned from childhood, and no one could be prosecuted for condemning wrong conduct. This was almost the only opportunity, especially for women, to express themselves without fear. If you ask me who Kaxumba KaNdola was, then this story comes to mind. He was a man associated with the resistance against colonialism. Excelling at an Early Age A resident of Endola community in northern Namibia, Tate Inamutwika Eliaser Tuhadeleni, popularly known as Kaxumba kaNdola, is especially well remembered for his personal courage, which made him larger than life itself. He was a source of inspiration to many people, who described him as a political activist who spoke up for the rights of his people and never hesitated to criticise the corrupt senior headmen and colonial officials. The colonial administration and the senior headmen wanted him silenced and behind bars, but nothing, not even jail and torture could break his spirit or muffle his voice. Here is a summary of accounts of Tate Kaxumba, as told to me by the residents of Endola and some of his political friends. Kaxumba was born in 1918 at Omatangela village in northern Namibia one year after the British-South African forces had conquered the Oukwanyama Kingdom. His father, Lyaalala ya Tuhadeleni, son of Inamutwika Mutale lnamufya Mupwilikine, had been one of the omalenga (senior headmen) of King Mandume yaNdemufayo of the Kwanyama people of northern Namibia. King Mandume died during the

British-South African invasion in 1917. Lyaalala was one of the very few omalenga who was well favoured and highly respected by the people, because he did not yield to the colonial authority. His political stand cost him his position as elenga, because the South African Colonial Government gave his position away to those who were willing to serve the interests of the colonial government. The people, however, continued to show him respect despite the loss of his privileges. Lyaalala married many wives. He was described as a wealthy man with lots of cattle and a huge homestead with several enclosures for his various wives, himself, his sons, daughters, and two big reception areas for receiving and entertaining visitors. Like many other former omalenga to King Mandume, such as Vilho Kaulinge, he also later converted to Christianity, and was baptized with a new name, Noah. As a Christian, Lyaalala had to divorce many of his wives, remaining only with one. It was as a result of Christianity, that his son Kaxumba and the child's mother, Mwateuvi Noongo, moved from Omatangela in 1925 to settle at Endola. A neighbour, Tate Johannes Stephanus told me that at a very early age Kaxumba had followed in his father's footsteps by converting to the Christian religion. He became very involved with the church at Endola and was the right-hand boy to our priest. We also wanted to be the right-hand boys to the priest, but Kaxumba had a special gift we did not have. He was encouraged to start the omapwako/a [elementary schooling] together with several adults, who were newly converted to Christianity. They learned ABCD and BaBeBiBoBu under the big tree at the Endola church compound. These early schools were brought to Owambo by the Christian missionaries, because the Church wanted all its converts to learn how to read and write, so that they could read the Bible and sing from the hymn book. Kaxumba, the youngest in the group, was quick to learn and the priest inspired him to start primary school at Omundudu. It also became clear after that, that Kaxumba had a gift for music. The priest inspired him to lead the Endola congregation during the Sunday service. The congregation admired him for being such a good singer. It was a well-known fact at Endola that there was no church service without Kaxumba. His singing had drawn a lot of people to the church. There was something in his voice that made people sing with joy, one felt drawn more closer to the Lord, and when people stepped out of that church after the mass, they really felt as if they were stepping from heaven. Our priest was wise to realise Kaxumba's singing potential for our new church because it was not only the words of the Lord that attracted people to the church, singing constituted an important part. Kaxumba loved schooling, and so he completed his primary school at Omundudu in 1932. This was the year in which King Iipumbu yaTshilongo of Uukwambi was arrested by the British-South African Police and was sent into exile until his death on the 3 September 1959. Although Kaxumba was eager to continue with his education, there were no educational opportunities for people to go ftirther and to fully utilise their talents. As a result, lhe went to Ongwediva, where he became a herdsman for the livestock of the Finnish Mission. There he continued singing. Not surprisingly, he became widely known for his wonderful melodic voice. It was from his singing that he got the name 'Kaxumba', which means a musical instrument, a harmonica or piano. He worked for the missionaries from 1933 to 1936. Thereafter, he decided to go to okaholo [contract labour].

Okaholo Traditionally, all the Oshiwambo males had to demonstrate to the whole community that they were indeed real men and were ready for the challenges of manhood and that they could be trusted with the affairs of their community. This they had to declare before they reached the age of twenty by, for example, saving a cow from being attacked by a lion, proving beyond reasonable doubt that they were the best hunters, cattle herders and, later, a successful return from the contract labour system was also counted as a way to qualify. As expected from each male in the community, Kaxumba too had to affirm his role because a boy who failed to prove his manliness could face a very tough time impressing any parents, so as to marry their daughter. As expected, Kaxumba, along with another young boy from the neighbourhood, the now elderly Tate Hatutale, joined a group of those who were going to okaholo at Ondangwa in 1939. I spoke to Tate Hatutale about their first okaholo experience, and this is what he related: When Kaxumba returned from Ongwediva where he worked for the missionaries, he came with the idea of going to look for work in the south. I got interested in the idea and we decided to go together. All the necessary arrangements were made for us to leave. \ cry special women, namely, Kaxumba's mother and ny wife, prepared our food for the journey. They packed omahagigu [millet] flour, omahanlga pancake-like bread, some dried spinach, and oshiendedemba [a thick cake-like mixture of moist, pounded birdplum fruits]. Kaxumba's mother prepared our last meal at her home before our journey. We left Endola and spent the night with a friend of Kaxumba's at Ongwediva. The next morning, we continued our journe\ to the recruitment centre at Ondangwa. There wC found a long queue of young men all waiting to go to okaholo. \Vc joined the queue. At the recruitment centre, things were not properly explained to us: we just joined the line and followed. All the job seekers had to go in as groups of about ten into a zinc, house-like structure. In this zinc house, we found the recruitment officers, translators and medical personnel. I, like all other men who \went through okaholo, was asked to take off all my clothes in front of all the officials and other job seekers. The medical personnel examined me ever- where, including my private parts. I was told the medical examination was a condition for recruitment. I felt disgusted, because in my culture it is a taboo for a man to be touched on his private parts by another man. I found the recruitment process very humiliating. After the medical ordeal, I wvas given a copper ring, which was fixed firmly around my wrist showing my contract number. The recruitment officials told us that it was required by law that a contract worker, who completed the recruitment process successfully, be given this contract number. So, instead of being called b% his name, a contract worker \\as to be called by this identity number. I w\as embarrassed by all this, and for a while I could not look any man in the face out of shame. I was given a ring for an 'A' category, while other people wore rings with 'B' and 'C' signs. The other workers, who were returning to their jobs, told us that the recruitment agency, the South Wcst African Native Labour Association [S\WANLA]. grouped the workers into these categories: 'A', 'B' and 'C'. The 'V category, they explained, was for the strongest men, who would work at the copper and diamond mines in Tsumeb, Ltideritz, and Oranjemund, respectively. Category 'B' was for jobs on the railhays, private firms involved in the construction of dams, buildings or commercial enterprises. And category 'C' was for farm and domestic workers, for which the pay and conditions of service were the worst. They also told us that if nmi were not given a ring on \our wrist it meant you had not been recruited.

I was checked before Kaxumba, and \when be came out, I noticed he was not vcry pleased. I also noticed that he was not given a copper ring for his \wrist. After having gone through the unspeakable test, he was disqualified for olaiolo. h'lerc w ere several people disqualified for okaholo and the reasons were not given. Kaxumba demanded to know why they w ere disqualified and the translator told them that: 'You are full of stupidity and poverty, you look ugly and have blemishes on your bodies and some of you have deformed fingers and therefore are not fit to join okaholo. ''he level of disrespect was disturbing. After getting Our results from the recruitment centre, Kaxumba did not go home. He waited for me to leave so that when he returned home he could tell m\ people that I had gone. While we were waiting, some people advised Kaxumba that he could just walk to Outjo to look for work on the farms around the area. Several people had done this and, apart from a few incidents of people being eaten tip by lions while crossing the Etosha Pan, the option had been successful for many. Before we left Ondangwa, Kaxumba and several other men were already planning on hoXw to face the journey on foot to Outjo, some 250 kilometres a\ ay. They planned to leave shortly after our departure. While Tate Hatutale spoke in general about Kaxumba and other job seekers walking to Outjo by foot, a story I read in a brochure on the Etosha National Park about 'man-eating lions' was ringing in my ears. A sympathetic and true tale of the legendary man-eating lions described the fate of four Ovawambo men who dared drink at Okondeka waterhole in 1950. The men, on contract to farmers south of Etosha, had deserted and were travelling to Owambo via Okaukuejo on foot. Whilst they drank from a spring, the lions attacked and killed one man, but three escaped up a tree, which grew where the tourist parking area is now located. After eating the unfortunate victim in full view of his terrified comrades, a lioness pulled two more from the lower branches and killed them. The fourth man, in his fear, managed to climb through the thorns and lay spread-eagled across the tree's prickly crown for three agonising days and nights, while the man-eaters settled beneath the tree waiting. A South African Police patrol from Okaukuejo rescued him from approaching death. The poor fellow was mentally deranged from the combination of thirst, fear, and the sight of his companions being devoured. It is not recorded whether he ever recovered fully. Walking to Outjo implied that Kaxumba and his colleagues had to stop at one of the fountains of Etosha, probably at Okondeka, it being the only perennial fountain that had never dried up in living memory. Okondeka, which in the Oshiwambo language means to encircle or ambush, relates to the waterhole's lion pride, which lies patiently in wait for prey. Having visited Okondeka myself, it is obvious that the geography of the spring facilitates an ambush, because it is enclosed on three sides by grassy dune hummocks, providing ideal hiding places for lions. Many contract workers, returning from farms south of Etosha, were frequently molested by lions when they passed the spring and attempted to draw water. Yet, these determined workers took on the risk to cross the Etosha, year after year, to get jobs, earn a living, and hopefully improve their quality of life, and that of their families whom they had left behind. The South West African Native Labour Association SWANLA was a recruiting agency that was established specifically by the apartheid government in Namibia in order to recruit workers from the Owambo and Okavango areas to work in the mines and other industries in the southern part of the country. SWANLA came into existence in 1943, when the Southern Labour Organisation (SLO) and the Northern Labour Organisation (NLO), both formed in 1925, merged into one organisation. SWAN LA had exclusive control over the government consession to recruit the contract workers for the mines and other industries in the then South West Africa. All the people interviewed during this study were of the opinion that SWANLA never paid attention to the human conditions of the workers they recruited. As Tate Hatutale related: S\.\NI,\ would not tell us for how long \wc had to wait before we departed from Ondangwa to our variius work detinations. The \%orkers were treated purely like a commodity for trade. Our names were replaced by numbers, so, \wc \\ere only called by numbers, as if we had no names of our own. SWAM_\ \% as also looking for a specific number of workers to satisf\ the needs of the industrial companies in Namibia and sometimes in South Africa too. They seemed concerned only with making business out of our desperate situation to earn a living. During the days, we waited at the recruitment centre in ()ndangwa; there was no accommodation. \We slept outside on the sand; they could not e\ eln provide ts with tents or barracks to sleep in. The job seekers had no clue what was going on, wh-at would happen to them next or what was expected (if them. The officers onl\ ga\c out orders such as: 'Get into the barracks, take off your clothes, ,n/'u1rauada [bend down to expose \our bottom]', and so on. Although I succeeded in getting employment and \\ as told by other workers that category A' was for the mines, I waited without knowing which mine I Would work for. Then we were ordered to jump into the truck by categories. \e \ ere many and had to all squeeze into this truck, packed in a standing position. \Ve were driven to the south. After the Oshix clo check points, we drove to Grootfontein, where the farm and domestic workers for the nearby farmers and households wxere offloaded. These farm and domestic workers Would wait in Grootfontein for their masters to fetch them, some would be dropped along the main road and left there to walk to the farms where they would be working. They \\ere given a placard made out if a carton box that was cut in a rectangular shape with a hole at the top. A thin thread was pushed through the hole like a necklace. The worker wx'ore the placard on the neck and was told to walk following the gravel road leading to the farm. On the placard \%as written the name and number of the farm and sometimes the farmer's name. This w\as the way in which farm and dimestic workers were offloaded in dribs and drabs along the road. In some cases, the workers Would be told to wait in Groorfontein for their masters to fetch them by ox wagon. There were xcry few cases, wvhere a worker was given this luxury. SW\NLA Would not explain xxho the master was or what the employment conditions Would be. Farm and domestic workers to the far south were also just dropped off at some bus station, and left there with the contract number or a sticker stuck to their clothes bearing the number of the farm or the name of the farm owner they would work for. The contract workers among us, x\ ho had more experience xvith the system, told us that some of these workers, who were dropped in ones or twos, woiuld have to \%ait for days before they \ere fetched and they remained at these bus stops or bus stations without food or blankets to cover themselves from rain or cold. I felt lucky to be recruited for the mine, because we were many and did not have to be left all alone in the middle of nowhere. I was in mx new job for only txxo months, when I heard that Kaxurmba got a job at a farm near Ourjo. I was happy. Kaxumba himself later wrote about his experiences in his biographical notes.

I was opposed to SW\ANLA's procedure of recruiting contract workers ever since my firsthand experience with the system in 1939. The recruitment procedures required that all workers be subjected to an examination of their: * physical constitution, to determine \ hethcr they could endure hard labour; * a genital inspection, to determine puberty and whether they \\crc free otf venereal diseases; * an anal inspection, that did not make clear what they w crc looking for, and, * an overall bodily inspection to ensure that men found \\ ith blemishes on their bodies were kept from entering the so-called Police Zone. Since that experience, I tried to think of \\ ays in which \\ e could convince our oma/enlga to stop S\\ \N LA from subjecting our people to those inhumane examinations. The problem I had was not onlv with the examination as such, but more with the \\a\, it \\as done. SVANL,.\ officers would call about ten or tvelve workers to come into the barracks at the same time and order them to line Lip. The job seekers would he asked to remove all their clothes and be totally naked in front of each other and the so-called inspectors. Each worker was inspected in front of the whole group, young and old. The inspectors amused each other and laughed a great deal at any worker who had abnormal features. They entertained each other by making comments on the size of the workers' private parts. The workers became totally humiliated. They also used abusiVe words like mbunyanana to examine our bottoms. This \\as my first shocking encounter with the contract labour system. We signed tip for any job as contract workers, hoping for good returns for our labour. The sacrifices made by our families by letting us join oIkaholo were based on the hope that the income from our labour would bring some development to the communities. On the Farm I worked in the household, mainly in the kitchen. They called me 'house boy', and ws'hen aggressive or angry; kaffer boy'. I did not like to be called any of these names, but this was what the farmer, his wife, and children called us. My job was to clean the house, the yard, feed the pigs, cook, wash, and iron. W'c were two. My colleague and I were faced with lots of problems when we first arrived on the farm. Firstly, the farmer and his family did not understand nor speak Oshiwambo, our home language, and the only language in which swe knew how to communicate. On the other hand, \e could not understand nor speak Afrikaans, the home language of the farmer and his family. We had to start working right after we were selected for the job, while our colleagues, who were not taken, continued with their journey in search of jobs. We were eager to work, but we could not understand the master's instructions. We learned the language on the job: items such as tea, coffee, meat, sugar or instructions such as boil water, feed the pigs, and so on until we cotild speak well. Our master had no patience for a slow learner or f r a person making a mistake. One morning, our master told me to clean the house well because he had visitors coming, while my colleague worked in the kitchen. I had just started working when I heard noises coming from the kitchen, ,!l'ou, the master's \\ ifc, was screaming and running into the sitting room. She picked up a sIambok [whip] and ran back to the kitchen. I could tell something was wrong, but I did not know what. I followed her to the kitchen to see what was going on. I found my colleague being beaten tip by J1ttrou. I tried to intervene, but the farmer stopped me. 'ou can just imagine an adult man, with his oxx n wife and children back horne, being called a 'kaffcr bIos' and bcaten up by his employer's wife. I was shocked and disappointed h\ the blehas iour. Tate Nghipangelwa, another activist who worked together with Tate Kaxumba, said that, during the 1940s and 1950s there were many contract workers returning from the farms, who told a number of shocking stories about their employment conditions on the farms. At a contract wvorkcrs meeting organiscd by Kaxumba and myself, held at Okatana, one worker said: '11 was told to go and feed the pigs, so I went to fetch the pig food from the pot where it was cooking. As I scooped into the pot with a large spoon, I picked out a human hand. First I thought that maybe I did not see properly, then I discovered a human foot. I was terrified and ran away to the police to report the matter. The police did not believe me and locked me up. I was later released, and luckily for me I was not returned to my employer, so I struggled to escape to Owambo.' During this meeting \\e heard a lot of similar stories, in some cases the worker was sent back to the same farm owners by the police and was totally horrified. I never worked for a farmer but I heard lots of stories about farmers, who killed their workers and submitted a request to SWANI.\ and to the Nati\ c Commissioner for additional workers, sax ing that their workers had run a\ a\. SWANI,\ and the Native Commissioner conveniently and without investigating what had happened to the previous workers, apparently supplied additional workers. Parents, and especially uncles were really worried about their nephews' security, more so than about their osn children because of the matrilineal descent of the Osawambo people of Namibia. This fear was created by numerous incidents of farm workers being reportedly killed h their masters, and mineworkers who died in mine accidents and went unreported or noted. The families of these unfortunate workers were not officially told about the manner in which their relatives had died, and they only heard from other returning workers, sometimes a sear after the incident had taken place. The families were not officially informed nor were they compensated. The workers were just replaced by requesting more workers from Owambo. The means for sur\ ival were slim and the frequent droughts drained the resources of the community, so that people could not completely turn their backs on the contract labour system. Allard Lowenstein in his book, Brutal Mandate, wrote: 'I once discussed the contract labour system with a distinguished English-speaking lawyer who was irritated that I thought it close to slavery ... "Of course", he said, "it would be slavery if it were done to whites. But these people don't know anything different. They're satisfied - grateful for most part - or they wouldn't come. Nobody ropes them in, you know".'' In his biographical notes, Tate Kaxumba wrote: We were not given proper housing, but were crammed into a small zinc house. We had to work for long periods, eighteen months without an opportunity to visit our families back home, and x\ er' forbidden anm visits even by other workers from the nearby farms. As farm \o\rkers, our duties began at sunrise and lasted till sundovn, and for kitchen workers, we AIlard K. [IM.'cti no 1962): were on dut\ until ver late in the evenings. Although we worked in the house, we were not Brutal Mindate. allowed to use the master's toilet or any other facilities in the house. j\ Jmrnev to Smqith ss ', Africa. Nc\\ 51,rk, p. I(h,

We ws'ere paid \cry little money and were not allowed to complain about the pay or the length of the contract. \Ve did not understand where our tax monev went, because the communities where we had come from \yere not de\ eloped in terms of schools, hospitals, roads and recreational facilities. Even the roads that led to our oll/I 4d were cleared by local people w ithout any pay, but as a social service expected of good citizens. Apparentl, the working conditions were agreed upon between our traditional authorit, the colonial administration, and SWANI.A. The workers had no say, and when wc experienced problems while at work, wc were not allowed to express them. '[here was no one to listen to us, wC were f'orbidden to hold demonstrations, to bargain or discuss our salaries or working conditions and/or to join or form trade unions. Our employers were not interested in negotiating our employment conditions, and when we insisted, the\- would report us to the police, who took us in and beat us up. Back in Owambo, some of our traditional leaders were not even interested in listening to us, and even those who listened did nothing about our conditions. During the contract period on the farm, we were treated as if we were the property of our employers, and if we made a mistake the punishment was very severe, from beating to no pay. The most difficult aspect of farm work w as that, should a sheep or cow die while in your care, you were heavily fined or the farmer would not pay your salary until he satisfied himself that the punishment was severe enough. In some instances, a cow or sheep would be attaked by a lion, if you did not stop the lion from eating tip the cow, Nou would be severely beaten up by the farmer and have nowhere to go and report or lay charges of assault. A contract worker was completely at the mercy of his white employer. The farm work was not hard but it was very difficult. The farmers did not respect Lis, and in most cases treated Lis as if we were their private property or slaves. Having watched my colleague being beaten tip by the farmer's wife, I started thinking of a strategy to organise the workers. I decided to organist church services and to slowly discuss our working conditions with fellow workers around Outjo. We met for about five times, after which the farmers found out about our discussions. They took LIs to the police and the police beat us up and returned each one of LIs to the farms. After this incident, I packed my few things and left the farm heading on foot to Omaruro. I arrived in Omaruri after four days of walking and illegally sleeping with other farm-workers on farms on the wa. In Omaruru I immediately sought employment at the Krantzberg mine. Krantzberg Mine Strike (1943) The biographical notes further revealed, that upon arrival at Krantzberg, Kaxumba was immediately employed at the Krantzberg mine where he worked for three months and made the following observations. The work at the mine was hard, but the pay\ was better than at the farm. I felt good to have left that farm. However, on this job, workers were equally suppressed and our labour exploited. We were exposed to various forms of discrimination, based on the colour of our skin. We, black workers, were not allowed to do office work at the mine. \We only did manual and hard labour, even the matriculants amongst tIs were not allowed, for example, to operate machines. These jobs were reserved for only white workers. The way we travelled to work was also different; the whites travelled in comfortable cars while we were crammed together in trucks in a standing position to and from work. Even our living conditions were different. While we lived in zinc barracks, white workers lived in brick houses. We xwcrc denied living with our families, while white workers had their families living with them. The w orkers at this mine were very unhappy, and went on strike three months after my employment \% ith them. The reason, for the strike \\,ere: the bad food fed to mine workers; poor medical treatment recei\cd by the workers; and lack of social security or compensation for \workcrs \\ho lost their i\cs or \cre injured on duty at the mine. I joined the striking \workcrs and they nominated me to be their spokesperson. The mining company said that I instigated the workers to go on strike, and they subsequently dismissed me from my job. The police arrested me even though I \\as only speaking the truth. They said that I was a trouble-maker for having organiscd the workers to strike, even though it was evident that the w ay the company treated its workers was inhuman, so, a strike was imminent. I \was jailed at Omaruru, and \\ as later deported to Grootfontein for imprisonment. While in prison at Grootfontein, the police offered to release me if I cooperated with them. TO cooperate meant that I would join their police force. So, I refused. How could I join the police when I kne\ their dirty work, since they were the ones imposing the apartheid laws that suppressed my people, depriving them of all rights and freedom for human existence. When they realised that they could not convince me into joining them, they stopped offering me their corrupt jot). '\\o \\ ecks later, a black police officer came to my cell with a skirt and said: *Put on this skirt, wc will send you to Commissioner Nakale Komahomato.' The name Nakale [tall, slim man] Komahomato [armed like a combat soldier] was the nickname given to the Native Commissioner Harold Eedes by the local people. The commissioner asked me: 'Why did yotu go to the Police Zone without a contract?" 'I came to the recruitment centre at Ondangwa and your officials insulted me and refused to give me a contract. I was forced to find my way to the south in search of a job,' I told him. I will investigate your case, and next time you wish to join okaholo tell them I recommend your recruitment, and if there are any problems come straight to me; as of now you may return to your family.' I stayed at home for a few weeks before I returned to the recruitment centre. This time I was recruited for the Consolidated )iamond Mines IC)NI] in Oranjemund, where I worked for two years. While in Oranjemtund, I started a business of buying and selling perfumes, scented soaps, and sweets during my spare time. \\'hen I returned to Ovambo, I started a peddling business, going from door to door. It was through this business that I met my wife Priskila at the Engela boarding school for girls in 1945. I decided not to return to the mine, but to pursue a career in carpentry. I registered at the Engela Vocational Training School for a course in carpentry and building construction, hoping to be able to make a living in Ow ambo out of mx newly acquired skills. I soon realised, upon completion of this training, that there was no market for my skills, so I had to return to the south as a contract \wirker. At this point, I also felt that I had met the girl of my life, and I did not want to wvvaste time nor wish to lose her to someone else.

The Workers I was wondering, as I worked on this book, why Kaxumba was so highly regarded by the workers, and why they involved him in their problems, because there were so many other people who also could have done what Kaxumba did or said what he had said. Tate Hatutale nodded his head as I spoke and with his eyes fixed on my face, he said to me: You child, do not play jokes with the world of the white man, because that was the white man's world, and it was not just anyone who could stand uip and challenge the role wc had been gis en as black people within the apartheid system. Kaxumba was not a calf. And, to answer \,our question, the workcrs did not invokc Kaxumba, lie xas already invoked bv virtue of the fact that he was a contract worker and had experienced similar hardships. But, the respect for him started in 1943, when he was arrested for instigating the mineworkers to strike atgainst discrimination at Krantzberg mine in Omaruro. He, being the spokesperson, basically implied that he had led his fellow workers to strike. He encouraged them to stand up for their rights by risking to strike when they knew that it was illegal for them to do so. )uring those days, the workers were not rewarded for going on a strike. They could be jailed, lose their jobs, be severely beaten, or they could be denied their pax. Kaxumba stuck his neck out to speak on behalf of the workers during the strike. His compatriots who took part in the strike admired his courage. They spread their admiration for him amongst other workers in Namibia. I. for example, \was not present at Krantzberg, but an eyewitness to the strike, who later came to work at the CDNI, told us that Kaxumba spoke eloquently and bravely during the strike. His fellow workers admired his courage and determination, and subsequently, he became a popular figure amongst the contract workers. In this countr. information travels faster than we think. So, even though this strike took place in Omaruru, information about the brave Tuhadeleni, who led his compatriots into the strike, spread throughout the country amongst the working people. Tuhadeleni led his fellow workers in singing, \% hen the police ordered them to disperse and return to the mine. Iihadeleni stood firm and spoke uncompromisingly to the watching mining company representatives, until the police removed him by force to imprison him. This was how the word of Tuhadeleni's action spread rapidly from mouth to mouth throughout the contract workers in Namibia. The workers started coming to him with individual problems. and if ot, knew Kaxumba, you also kn that he was always ready to help. This was how his reputation spread amongst the grassroots people. His outstanding role amongst the workers, and his ability to stand up for the rights of the community despite constant harassment from the traditional authorities and colonial officials, could not be ignored. He became one of the earliest public figures and symbols of anti-colonial resistance of the Namibian people. One of the problems brought to Kaxumba by a contract worker, that I can still remember, was that of Joseph Sheya. This man is still alive, and if you arc interested, I will take you there to hear the story with your own ears. So, the next morning, Tate Hatutale and myself were on our way to Tate Joseph's house. After almost getting stuck in the heavy sand on the bumpy road to Omaandja village, we finally arrived. Tate Joseph, a tall, slim, weary man, had impaired vision with the use of only one eye. He was a committed Christian, married and blessed with five grown-up children and four grandchildren. Being a very kind and generous man, he was immediately concerned with us having travelled a long way without much to eat. The providing of food to strangers had been an Owambo custom that is slowly dying out in most parts of this region. When I saw this, I felt a cultural pride that there were still people who kept to the old ways of living and sharing. I explained the purpose of our visit and further explained that I had been informed that during the 1950s Tate Joseph went to see Tate Kaxumba at Endola, where he discussed his experiences as a contract worker with him. I asked if he could still remember having visited Tate Kaxumba, and whether he could share with me the reasons for going to see him, what they had discussed, and whether he was helpful. Joseph Sheya replied: Ycs, Of course, 1 remember vcrv well why and how I went to Endola to consult Tate Kaxumba. I had to talk to him because there was no one else to even listen nor to understand me. I told him my whole story as it happened. I was a farm worker for one-and-a-half y cars, working for a farmer near Outjo. When I started working for him, he told me that our contract wtould last for eighteen months, after which I would be released to go and visit mx family in Owambo. Our master did not pay us our salaries at the end of the month. When we asked for our pay, he always said, he was saving the money and that he would pay us at the end of our contract. I was the third worker to arrive at this farm. N colleagues were already there six months before me, and when their contract came to an end they demanded their pay. 'he master refused to pay them or to discuss their return back to Owambo. Their relationship became v cry bad. One day our master asked two of us to take spades and to go and dig a hole in some bushes on his farm. We dug and dug until he was satisfied with the depth. He asked us to climb out. I was the first one to climb out. NIN colleague was much shorter than me and he was struggling to climb out of the hole that we had just dug. I reached out for his hand in order to help him climb up. The master asked me to leave him. The next thing I saw was that the master took out his gun and shot m' friend several times. He fell back into the hole. Suddenly, I heard a vice saxing, 'Joseph run for your life, run before he shoots you'. I do not know whose voice it was, but I started running. In the mixture of shock, panic, and fear at the turn of events, I ran into the bush looking for a hiding place. I accidentally injured my eye with a thorn. I pulled the thorn out from my eve and continued running. I was a desperate man. I was heading for my mother. I longed for my people and missed their gentleness and kindness. I called for my father as I was running. I got hungry and thirsty, but hesitated to approach any farm or to drink at water points in the bush. I feared my master \\ ould send the police to look for me at every possible place. I was lucky this happened during the rainy season and there w ,s water in most places. I was a cattle herder, \\ax back, before I joined oktaiolo and I was aware of a number of cattle posts on the wax to Owambo. Nevertheless, it took me nearly three days of running and walking before I ciiuld find a cattle post wvhere I rested for a week. The cattle herders helped treat mx cxc with herbs. I had to continue my journey to Owambo. The cattle herders prepared food for me to take along and this helped a lot by giving me energy to walk on. I was happy to arrive home. \\hen I arrived home, I immediately thought of reporting the matter to the police. But then I recalled another worker who was fined and put into jail bx the police for reporting his master, who had beaten him up because one of the sheep \\ ent missing when he returned home that day. I could not report this matter to the police because they would just arrest me. I feared to inform the traditional authorities because the\ might have accused me of breaking the contract and may have handed me over to the police. I lost trust in our senior headmen, especially those who offered full collaboration with the colonisers and who no longer looked after their people. They had turned their backs on us and refused to condemn the contract labour system. They seemed to make a profit out of the suffering of their own people, because from what we understood as contract workers, our oma/elei received money from the colonial go'ernment for every worker received from their area of jurisdiction. These facts were not verified, but this was the belief of many workers. I told onl\' my father who advised me to go to Endola and look for Y/lfr Kaxumba. There was not much that Kaxumrba could hav e done, but he took up nm problem with our church leaders and the\ took me to Engela for medical treatment. I was physically cured, but psychologically, I suffered in silence. I never found out what happened to the third worker, and wondered whether the payment our master had referred to meant that he would kill us at the end of the contract. I am sure this farmer continued to receive workers from S\WANLA and probably treated them in the same way as he did my compatriot. I never again signed up for oka/aolo, but I lost the sight in one of my eyes and was never paid a cent for all the farm work I had done during my sixteen months in Outjo. I also spoke to the Tuhadeleni's neighbour, Tate Wilhelm Haimbangu, now a pensioner, and his wife Meme Ndeshihafela Hangula-Haimbangu, about any consequences the contract labour system had had on the families of the workers. Tate Haimbangu worked for the CDM in Oranjemund from 1932 to 1986. I asked him and his wife why people said that it was the contract labour system that brought about major political change in Namibia. Why did people still talk about the infamous contract labour system and its negative impact on the families, despite the fact that the system had been gradually abolished since the 1971/72 workers' strike, thirty years ago? How would you have helped a person who had not been a contract worker to understand how this system had an impact on family life? Tate Haimbangu replied: The contract work, as a means of making a living through employment, was probably not so bad for unmarried young men, but a married man like myself found it awful. Wc were separated from our wives and children for very long periods, eighteen months, although this was later shortened to twelve months. \\Then wc asked if our ssives and children could come to live with us in the compounds or visit us for a few days, our request syas denied. Wc led a lonely life in these workers' compounds. You can just imagine what this loneliness did to us in those compounds. There \\as no form of entertainment, no football grounds, no cinema, and no form of getting together socially. Life in the compounds was for me physically and morally devastating. \\e were locked up in the compound; the only time we left it was by the truck that arrived every morning of every working day. The truck would reverse into the compound, after which wc had to climb onto it according to our numbers. If there was a number missing, then the worker represented by that number was in real trouble. Exception was only given to seriouslS ill cases. The truck drove us right into the mine, again in a reversed position, and back to the compound, day in and day out for eighteen months. \e were totally separated from the local community, vet our wis es and children were not permitted to come and live with us. It sw as heartbreaking to think of my wife and children back home. Even when I returned home for the one-month holida.. I found myself in a position of a stranger in my own home.

I am afraid I do not hasc good things to sax about the contract labour sxsrem, because it did not take the human factor of the African people into account. We wAere made to sleep in huge barrack-like buildings, sometimes three to four in one room. "'he ssav accommodation was allocated to us \\ as entirely up to the Iosscs. We were not asked \\ ith whom we wanted to share rooms. So, y wowuI ( find an older man li ving in the same room with x oung men. Meme Haimbangu said: The biggest problem for me was that 7'a" went to work in the mines and left me alone. This \\ as three months after our 'A cdding. I ' %as not experienced, and x\as still acquainting myself with his relatives, most of whem were older than me. I 'A as \ crx worried and afraid about how I \\ould get alongs with his relatives. On top of this, he left me pregnant. When he returned, the child was alreadx walking I Ic stayed at home for one month, after which he had to return to the mine. I realised when he was alreadx gone, that I \\ as expecting. This is how our children \\ere brought into this world and raised by me alone. They did not know their father. Their cultural understanding ofa father figure in their lives was absent. I had hoped that nx children, especially the boys, could has e their father as a role model, but he \x as always absent. Our family life Xwas broken. I can truly say that mx husband \\ as more married to his work than he was to me. It was very tough for me to be alone at home, to bring uip our children on my own without my husband's help. I had to look after our household and to ensure that the rooms that were getting dilapidated were mended or replaced. There was just too much work for me to handle with small children. "'ate never failed to send us money. It swas normal" delivered to me by hand by his fellow contract workers coming home for holidays. It was amazing the trust these men had in one another. A person walking from Ongandjera by foot came to bring me a parcel and to see and talk to all the children, so that swhen he returned to Oranjemund he could tell Tate how we all \\ere. The children loved to hear from their father and sometimes he sent parcels to everyone. During my husband's absence, I had to deal with cattle herders and make certain that our cattle were in good hands while at the cattle post. I had to look after the field and see to it that ploughing, weeding, harvesting and threshing got done on time, and that the grain was stored properly. With the money he sent, I had to buy omaanida [neatly woven millet storage baskets]. When he returned home for one month after a prolonged period of absence, I expected that he had come home to work and to help me with various household tasks, but I was disappointed. The s isitors that came in to see him prevented him from doing much work during his visits. My household chores were increased during his visits. He entertained the visitors while I was on my feet for most of the time. He ssas keeping company with his visitors and relatives all the time while I attended to household work. After four weeks he returned to Oranjcmund without doing much work at home. Tate Haimbangu added: I realised the implications of my extended absence from home, but there was really not much I could have done to change the situation. It N\ as not possible for my family to survive only on subsistence farming. We needed money for clothing, health, school fees and various household needs. I also felt that coming homc meant that I \\ as coming for holidas to rest from my job on the mine and to relax and make myself comfortable in my own home. This situation w as very difficult for me too. For instance, once \\ hen 1 arrived home, m\ \\ ife introduced me to all our children, and only our first horn, who \väs six \ cars old at that time, recognised me. 'I1he t\\o small oines shook mx hands and ran off to play. When 1 asked them to come and sit on ny lap. thev refosed. 'The small une cried hard when I picked her up to trN and play with her. 1 svanted so mnuch to be with mv children. l wanted to kiiow them and be w ith them. I missed them. The sere afraid of me becaLise thex did not knos mc. As a father, 1 felt very bad to be rejected byr mx own children. Ny xwife tried to encorage them to come to me. , t for the first \veek nothing Nvorked. l felt bad that mv own children were running away from me. 'Tbis was a horrible experience. just when the kids were loosening up a little and becoiming osed to me, off I went again to the mines. 'hese are the memories that hound me to this day. although the children are now all grown up. I wanted to be xwith my family and to be a good father and a good huisband, but xwe all knexs that m incorne vas important to mv familx's livelihood. So, l bad to return to the mine. Therefore, when Tuhadeleni started his politics here at Endola, I joined him immediately because 1 realised that if ve wanted to be free from sla\ e labour, we had to free ourselves. The interview with Tate and Meme Haimbangu reminded me of a poem published in 1989 by the late Simon Zhu Mbako. He wrote: We Come and Die as Numbers When xs e enter the mines We recei\ e our ntImbcrs: MIarkcd on a plastic 'bracelet'; Viclded Hnto our w rists. For ,ne or t\\, ears, \Ve are baptized as nummbers. We ser e as numbers; \Nc clock in as nuimbers; Our ss hite bosses tall us by numbers: We cock out as numbers; Our onlx identitN on the mines. Vcct our \5 agcx as m1IIUs: As numbers \x e haNc a ccidets; We go> to hospital as numbers: \S nrmllibers we die: \nd \\ e enter our coftins as num]bers. We enter thc compound as numiu[cs. \s ntlmbers xx [ca\ c the ci impititnd" Wc get our nicals as numbersz As numbers \ve slecp and \\ akc up; And x c m(iox-. around .xs numbers. And u c imoxe artilnd as nll/bCrs, 13N the miurdci-,,s specd ,,f \\ourk; \Ve are sent to the rescrxations as ntmnibers,;

\'hcn \% c r c saIck at' p ais onous .qavisc Vc arc denicd cao lupCi'taion I al" it as \\orl'th nlmbhers. \\ hen tlc I,ocd111"tcats 1\\ a\ our It ran s; \\c irc S lt ta l Il ga\ C' as nuncrs: S1, \% t l1nc and ie s nII IIIIbCrs. Kaxumba Gets Married In his notebook Tate Kaxumba wrote: When I returned to the contract work in 1946, I knew I was ready for taking Lip the marriage responsibility. I worked hard to save money for the wedding and for all the necessities for a household. On the 8 January 1948 1 married my wife, Nieme Priskila yajona yaNlusheko. The neighbours described Kaxumba's wedding as the talk of the community. A big wedding ceremony was prepared. I can tell you, Kaxomba, apart from being an organiser and a well-known singer, lie was well liked and his wedding attracted a lot of attendance from all corners of Owambo. It was one of the best weddings, so well attended and celebrated; I remember this vividly as if it \\as yesterday. Food \\as plentiful, drinks were in abundance and guests wcrc happy. It was a real celebration, and if I remember correctly, Kaxumba was reminded to keep to his role of being a groom, because it \Nas so exciting that he also wanted to jive like xecrybody else. Kaxumba took over the singing, he and Simon Kaukung a sang marvelhLsl through the wedding and no one could stop him from singing at his own wedding. The neighbours explained at great length that: In our culture, parents do not just watch their children getting married and then sit back or send them off to face the world on their own. Fhey have a cultural obligation to assist them in establishing their marital life. What normally happens is that the man's parents will allocate a portion of their house to the young couple to stay in for at least two to four years after the marriage. This portion is also partitioned in such a way that the young couple feels that they have enough privacy. This tradition also gives an opportunity to the parents and relatives to get to knowx their daughter-in-law well and to get a real feeling that their son is in good hands. F'urther, the young couple is helped by the elders to learn to live together as husband and wife. 'The girl s\ ill learn to know the character of the family into which she married. But, the girl's parents are als welcome to visit. There are ceremonial functions to enhance the interaction between the girl and the boy's parents. Parents on both sides often wish their children to be happily married and it is required of the boy's parents not to exercise unnecessary interference. Kaxumba too settled at in his mother's house, Ku/ku [granny] Niwateuvi, where they lived until 1954. Meme Priskila tells about their experiences as a young couple having to own a homestead of their own and to establish their family.

- Kuku NIwateuvi wvas a wonderful mother, kind-hearted and caring. I enjoyed living with her and to tell you the truth, I did not ceen see the need for uIs to move out of her homestead. I always felt really lucky to have her as a mother-in-law. In fact, my relationship with her \\,as more of a mother and a best friend. However, it is a social obligation that alter marriage one is expected to establish a homestead, contribute to the human race, and become one of the responsible members of the village conmmunit\. There was a need for us to oblige with our cultural expectations. At this time, wc were blessed with two children. So, our family was growing, and in our community, your family business is everybody else's business. Their eces were on uis, and we knew it was time to move on. We identified a place suitable for cultivation at Endola, and as re(uired b tradition, ve approached the headman to obtain the right to use land and also to make the necessary payments. Kaxumba worked from sunrise to sunset to clear the land and to build our homestead. The w\hole preparation took us nearly two months. The last evening wc spent at Kuku NJ\\ ateu i's house, she advised us, as daughter and son, on how to face life on our own: 'YOU are now adults. YOu have to carry your family as well as social responsibilities. The decision you have made entails that you are ready to go into the world, into adulthood and face life with its responsibilities. I wvant you to think of our ancestors' proverb that eumbo ovanhu [homestead is people]. A homestead that is not visited, that is avoided by fellow villagers is the worst social shame. YOu build a house for people to come to. As you move into your new home, a visitor, known or unknown, may come to your homestead with nothing but cowdung in her basket as a gift to you. Do not chase her away; give her whates er you can afford. That is the life ve found, the life we live, and it will be the life after us. The life of caring and sharing, my children.' She also prayed for uis and asked God to give us wisdom, to give us luck, and to bless our household. She went to sleep in her sleeping hut. We left Kuku MwateuxVi's house at about four in the morning, carrying our children and most of our basic necessities to settle in our new home. When we got there, we found the headman sitting at the main reception. It is the culture of our people that when a couple moves into their new home for the first time, it is a ceremonial occasion and certain rituals have to be observed. The headman brought into our new home a big log from a Niopani tree, which was alight on one side, and he placed it in the main reception area. As the initiator, he lit the first fire in outr new home. He invited us in and asked us to join him around the glowing fire. As in all Oshiwambo homes, our reception was set up in a 'U' shape. He placed Eliaser on the main wooden chair, while I sat on the left, and the children were on the right side of the olupale [sitting place]. It was not clear whether the headman had slept there or whether he just came earlier than us. According to tradition, the ceremony is carried out before the morning star, Nawila, rises from the east. The initiator is also required not to talk to anyone that morning until the initiation ceremony has taken place. The headman asked us to accompany him in a prayer, he asked God to bless our house and all its inhabitants. He prayed for rain, omnahlangu, good luck, wealth, health, children, and livestock. He also asked Pamba, God of the Os as% ambo people, to guard over our house, and he performed some ceremonial. The headman initiated and blessed the establishment of our new home. Next, he asked me to take the fire; he called it 'the fire of life' to my e'pat [my enclosure], ondjueo [my bedroom] and to my husband's small reception area. Then he left.

I started cooking for the housewarming celebration. After sunrise, the neighbours came in to hel!p, and by the time our shadows stood directly under our feet, the cooking was done. While the \womcn cooked, the men fenced the homestead and thatched the roofs of our vari,,os rooms until the Whole house was standing. Every able child, woman, and man in the ncighbourhood shared in the work. Just after noon, neighbours, friends and relatives brought in traditional refreshments such as oma/od/lu [a fermented drink], and oshikundu [a refreshmcnt drink made from millet flour]. The work stopped and c\ cr\onc started eating, chatting and enjoying themselves. Bv sunset every one \N ho was not meant to sleep o\cr in our new hone left. The question of space is ver important to the ()sawambo people, so we were left alone \\ith onis fc\\ friends and relatives to enjoy the first dreams in our new home. In the morning, Eliaser continued with the building of our homestead. He added more huts and a brick building. He was a \ rv talented designer and was neat in his work. He singlehandedly built a four-bcdroomed building in our new home. He made bricks, cut grass from the nearb\ oswhan [area with sandy soil] and millet stalks from the fields. We did not know from w here he bought poles and nails. He worked hard. Kaxumba as a Member of the Community Eliaser Tuhadeleni is remembered by his neighbours both as a family man and a public figure. It is difficult to characterise Kaxumba purely as a family man only, no, although he was a family man, he took a lot of responsibilities for his people and his country. I ss as not ahs ass at Endola during Christmas time, but whenever I was, and Tuhadeleni was also home, I spent Christmas day at his home, because it was a pleasant place to celebrate Christmas. I was amazed by the extent to which this man tried to make his kids feel good, eat well, and dress specially. He was very good natured as a father, with true love and affection for his children. I have not known anyone who enjoyed life and made every minute count as Kaxumba did. In our culture, your wife and children are not your blood relatives and, therefore, less important than were, for example, your sister's children. Kaxumba loved his children and all members of his household but he had e(ltal love for his community and people. He would slaughter a whole goat just for his kids to eat even when there was no special occasion. This was unusual in our tradition. Kaxumba was also a good cook. )uring our time, men did not go near the kitchen. It was strictly a woman's department, but 'lhadeleni could do anything. He used to bake bread and cakes. He did not have baking pans, but he improvised by shaping empty tin cans into useful baking pans. He also did not have a bakery in a modern sense, but he did the baking in a dugout oven, built in such a way that there svas a place underneath where he put the charcoal, as well as middle and top layers for keeping the baking pans. There was a separate door to the charcoal compartment and while the bread was baking, he kept on slowI adding more coal. The door was closed tightly and the bread svas left to bake for an hour or so. I have never been in the storeroom of nmy wife's kitchen, but when I visited Tuhadeleni, I could not help watching what Kaxumba was doing. You see, Kaxumba's house was built in such a was that a man could freely mos e around the kitchen and find things. He understood and had seen things wc \ecre not e\posed to.

Kaxumba \\ as a great compatriot. He \\as always ready to give a helping hand. He \\ as a \cry generous man, who encouraged and supportcd others to succeed. I Ic was abovc all a good neighbour to have around, especially \v hen you had a big occasion like a wcdding, funeral, or oshikll;1 ,ll,,,,. You could alwass count on him for help. )o you know what osh/kun.Owu,,,'/ is? \\ell. let me explain. shikuntunfn is when a group of organised \Voung men and w omen ins ade the field of an admired friend or a neighbour, in order to help him with \\ceding or threshing the millet, usually without warning the person before-hand. These people usually work the wthOle day and/or night until all the millet has been threshed or the wshole ficId has been w eeded. Osikium)un.+u is good, because it is a means b\ which a community helps its members who have big fields or too much millet than they hase available laboor in their households to harvest or ssccd their produce. It is a big honour to a commuinty member whose field or threshing ground is invaded in this fashion. It gi\ es the indication that these young people think highly of y-oi and they provide \-ou with their free labour to show their appreciation of oOr presence in the cotmmflunity, or to thank you for something you did that made them proud. Hox ever, os/ikunitunu places the responsibility on the household owner to provide food and drinks for the people working in his field or on his threshing ground. When caught by a surprise labour force, you need to take quick action to ensure that these workers are properly fed. fisuallk, a brave man will slaughter a com or two for these volunteer workers. It is a social shame if these Volunteers are left to work with hunger in their stomachs. I suall., a neighhour has to count on another neighbour for the nearest cow available. Kaxumba was a generous man who supported others so as to succeed. He also liked to joke and could be sery entertaining. He \vas good to have around, 'a man of the people' or 'a people's person', but he did not take nonsense from anybody. If Nrou had done or said something he did not like, he would simply tell yoi in a direct and straightforward manner. He did not know how to gossip, and he ssas not a diplomat. People with hidden agendas would not appreciate him because he sas straightforward. On the other hand, if he did something which had a bad consequence for others, the moment he realised the mistake, he admitted and apologised. Kaxumba \\as a charismatic person, and these qualities had not changed even after he had been through the most traumatic experiences \v ith the apartheid regime. He \ ent through the hardships of the early years of the struggle, being arrested several times, beaten and tortured by the colnial police. When he wAas declared the number one enemy of the apartheid government in 1966, he wsas hunted down, arrested and deported to a foreign country as a prisoner, wvhere he ssas kept for many years. He was released as an old man in 1985, and went into exile, not because he wanted to, but because of political problems. When Kaxumba visited Endola in 1989, after being awas for twenty-tw o \ears, we c ere ssorried that he would be \crs bitter s\ ith man\ of us. I was astonished to realise that he \\ 3s not angry and did not show disappointment in us for not standing up for Melme Priskila during those terrible years. He sswas still a \ cry kind-hearted man. The apartheid jail and torture did not make him a bitter person or break his spirit nor quieten his voice. After independence, sshen he returned to Endola to rebuild what was left of his shattered household, he fought tirelessly to get a water tap for the community school at Endola, \\ hile his own household had the same water needs. He w\as a community person. \\'hat was good for him was equally good and shared with others. S\VAPO gave him an old bakkie [small truck] that ended up being used like a conlilnnit bus - the only difference was that it did not cost a penny. The car \\as oiften uscd as an aml)ulance, ferrying patients from Endola clinic to Oshakati hospital and back. I c w\ould not leave a patient until he or she \\as treated. Kaxumba is sadlh missed by our cuniiiiunlt\, that is \\ h\ during his memorial service, and I aml ure ()i havc heard \\ ith VOur o\ n ears, mourners cried: 'YOu ha\ c left us pov erty, you ila\C left us po\ erty. \ho will listen to us, w ho will assist in our nceds? You have left us poverty.' This is so true for imany people in this region because when he was around, pensioners did not have to sworry about how to get to pension payouts. KaXumba took them with his baikkie and brought tliem back. lie even transported school children going for school camping. He loscd lhis family ery dcearls, but he also had love for his fclions conimunity members, Kaxunba, even at an old age, had determination and courage. Once he decided to achieve somcthing, lie ptIt all his cncrgy into it until he got results. He s\as a special gift from God to Our cOninitlnit\. If you \ alk around in this ward, y ou will hear many complaints about s cry basic services for the conmuunitv. Any farmer y(,u meet noss will drop words about their needs for tractors. People want their fields ploghed, while wc still has e the rain. Right now ss c are told this region has been allocated onIy two tractors. This is a big region with many households and fields to plough, how can s\C be ser\ ed \ ith two tractors? People are worried because our cultivation is dependent upon rainwater and this is \ hv we need our fields ploughed while se have rain. These are the reasons why some of iur people resort to asking: 'Why did God do this to us, take our Tlre Kaxumba awsay f'0i11 us? If Kaxumba was here he would go to Oshakati and I promise N()i hc iWould come back to Endola with a tractor. Kaxumba was a practical man, action iiriented and interested in helping people.' Problems are there to be solved, not to be postponed, Kaxumba would sax in a very serious manner. This is why people respected hini. The road that runs from Oshakati to Endola is also a point in question. It is muddy and cars have to swim through this very slippery mud. Small cars cannot drive through. It is dangerous to drive through shen it rains. If mor 7ate Kaxuiiiba was with us he Would have that road tarred. Kaxumba had a way of convincing people to get things done. These are some of the things that make us miss his presence. ie was not unlv interested in our village development, but he had a character of his own. Even people in guvernment offices at Ondangw a and Oshakati respected him. The\ listened to what he was asking and responded positively. You hase no idea of how much we had tried to get help from Oshakati and Ongwsediva to complete our water pipeline, which was in progress at the time of Kaxumba's death. These things took Kaxumba only a trip to Oshakati or Ong\\ ediva to talk his talk and return to Endola with a concrete solution. It is sometimes really embarrassing for those of us xs ho accompanied Kaxumba to government offices in Oshakati to ask for help and return to Endola smiling noss when we ask the same help from the same officials sse are not given the same response as was given to Kaxumlba. With Kaxumba, the officials respected his \\ ords, w could see they were happy to offer their sers ices to him, and did not rush him or send him from office to office. Naivelx too, sve took the old man for granted, We thought he Would als\axs be here to help, and now that \c no liiger have him, sic realise how lucky we had been to live in the same village with 7te Kaxumba. w I') ()t,,I I, ii 'h/ I/i i/i Tate Andimba .oivo yaToivo was a political friend and comrade, who shared the most painful experienc through the arrest, detention, torture, trial and imprisonment on Robben Island with luhadeleni and others. He adds another social dimension to Tuhadelenis life, while in Cape Town in the 1950s. I met ,uhadelen/ for the first time in 194,3 at tndjodjo in ndangi, a. lie was Selling guas as. sweets, soaps, and perfumes. I did mit see him againl until 1952 in (,ape Tlown where I found him well established when I arrived there looking fo r work. He worked at an abattoir. truhadeleni rented an apartment, where he invoited many Namibians to live and settle around him from the moment he inuoed in. He was regarded as a resourceful person for fellow Namihians entering ,ape Town for the first time. 'n'4thadelodoi \\,as a generous man. Mans of our people, who came to Cape Town, and did not know where to stas, alwass went to ud e with him and depended on him for food and accommodatin. When I arrised in (ape Town., I twh did not ha e a place to stay and sIjiadeleni wtelconed me in his flat until I got a job and a flat of my own. Later on, I got accu mmu dation in the same building swhere he lis ed. Ile w fas an open-handed man, and he used ti accommodate most of those people who did not know where to sta. Ils hiime was always full of people. Even those who did not sleep at his flat came there for their meals. I had staved in ms flat for about two months when 'Ijihadcleni told me that he planned to return home. lIc also in\ itcd me to accompany him to a shop where he bought his harmoniums. After pa\ ing for the two organs, he said to me that: 'One of the organs is for the church and the other for mysclf.' I remember Tuihadeleni as a generous man, always thinking of helping others \\ ithuit expecting anything in return. Tate Kaxumba is not only remembered as a kind-hearted, but also as a very principled person who could not accept wrongful actions. Helao Shityuwete said:

7/c Kax\mnba (uestioned the senior headmen on the issue of inheritance and the maltreatnlcnt ol" w id( s after the death of their husbands, a \ery critical issue, \which \as only formalix taken op again after iodependence, when traditional leaders took a decision to stop the practice. It was for these reasons that man' of us looked to him aS our spokesperson, a representati\e of the coloh ised and the oppressed. When he started holding public meetings, his main intCnti( \was to explain to the people that the\- had the right to express the problems imposed upon them by the colonial structure or traditional authorities. He encouraged people not to suffer in silence, and in\ ited their \ie\s and opinions. It \% as through the active role he played in the commiunity, that he became popular amongst the people. This popularity threatened the colonial authorities and resulted in Kaxumba being arrested and harassed. I met Tuhadeleni for the first time in 1950, while I was a student at Odibo St. Mary's High School. He used to come to the house of Rex Theophilus Hamutumbangela to have his letters translated from Oshi\\ ambo into other languages. He left mc With such an unforgettable impression, that I made an effirt to find him and talk to him during mx' school holida's. During the same sear, 1950, 1 translated his article into English and sent it to the Contact newspaper linked to the Liberal Partx of South \frica. They published the article with Kaxumba's photograph.' The security police sa\\ the article and, soon after, they sent their army and police to hunt him down and had him arrested. I knew 7;i' KaxUmba Well. At one stage I \xas his secretary, translator, and admirer. He used to tell us a lot about politics that helped many people to realise that the apartheid government was using the contract labour system as a mwans of controlling tile Ovawambo people, and to exploit their labour for the convenience ol the instruments of the colonial aulthoritv. f ih Kaxumba used to challenge us with questions such as: '\Whv do Von think the Owambo man would be allowed into the Police Zone only Linder terms that were profitable for whites?' He urged us to wake up and challenge the sxstem of apartheid before it was too late. Thi article could nt bc trac-cd. II Political Formation Tate Haimbangu Kapolo, a community activist, reflected that: \When the colonisers came to our land, they took all the power from our people and kept it onlv to themsel cs. 'I'hev set up a gu\ eminent in \\hich the local people had no sav. The\ appointed olma/ldua \\ ho were willing to bend to their authority, and entrusted the traditional leadership of the Cnunmunit\' to such people. And, this \\as how our agrarian society, whose roots are in land. cattle, and the homcstead, was turned into a zone of political confrontation. We were more and more diso\ ned of our traditional land, and the colonial govmnnt did not allow us to have a sas at an\ le\cl of dccision-making. Ve used to call it epangelo /ookoa*vamui/aulw, a government that onlx wanted its subjects to say yes., cs, es to e\ ers decision it made. The people were very unhappv. but they did not know what to do in order to free themselves from a colonial govsernment that treated them as if they were slaves. We all wanted change, not one of us wanted to be cohonisCd, but it took a long time to figure Otit strategies for bringing about change. The South African Government divided the land and allowed the senior headmen, who collaborated with it, to maintain their positions, but it also appointed new ones to replace those that were considered unwilling to bend to the colonial rule and control. The people \ crc disappointed with this and wondered about the consciences of the chiefs in the colonial dispensation, who were so willing to play safe with the regime that killed their forefathers and robbed them of their nation. Some of them also sass the problem, and in their response towards self-defence they said: 'Ou a lombola meme ore n 'oo tale' [one who marries my mother becomes my father]. In 1949 Kaxumba left for South Africa to try and seek admission to a vocational training institute or a college. However, all the colleges he applied to did not accept him due to his lack of formal qualifications. He ended up working for a construction company and later at an abattoir in Cape Town. As he himself later wrote: While in Cape "Tswn, I made ver good contacts with members of the African National Congress [ANC], who taught mc a lot about politics. This experience helped me to consolidate my goals for a political career, and added to the basis already laid bs the Niandume \los ement, which was an underground, anti-colonial movement, that was fighting against colonialism and forced taxation. Many of his acquaintances also held in common, that his experiences and exposure, through the contract labour system, provided the basis for his decision to resist all forms of exploitation and colonialism. Through the contract labour system, Tuhadeleni, as a contract worker in the south, met many Namibians from other language groups in Namibia; he would not have got this exposure if he had stayed in his village. The contract workers discussed problems that affected their lives at work and in the communities they had come from. It was this exposure that helped Kaxumba realise that it was not only the Ovawambo people of Namibia who were colonised and oppressed, but the whole of the Namibian population. Tuhadeleni realised, firstly, that in all population groups there were some forms of organised or semiorganised resistance against apartheid. However, this resistance was based only on the problems as experienced by local communities. In the south, the resistance was championed through the structures of the traditional leaders, such as Hosea Kutako and David Witbooi, while in the north, it came mainly from people at the grassroots. Secondly, Tuhadeleni's experience as a contract worker in South Africa, and his association with other black workers in that country, conveyed to him the understanding that Namibians were not the only people that were demanding their freedom from apartheid. These two experiences contributed to the further development of Kaxumba's political career, and added more momentum to his vision of freedom and independence for Namibia. Tafe Johannes Stephanus, a one-time Secretary to Kaxumba, who also was a neighbour, narrated: When Kaxumnba returned from Cape "lown to Namibia in 1953, he started an active political campaign aimed at encouraging the people to resists against the imposition of the colonial structures, especially those that had a negative impact on people's livelihood. He started his public and political life b\ holding public meetings in the community and going to chiefs' homesteads to sensitize them about the need to resist colonialism. fie soon became verx unpopular with some of them, as they labelled him troublemaker. 'he community gave him all the support he needed, and this was boosted by the active mobilisation of the contract workers. It \%as in fact Kaxumba who introduccd the idea of freedom and independence to \'ery man\ people in this regiin. lie started his political campaign around critical problems that Were prevalent in the community. le invited and encouraged people to come to his meetings in order to discuss x a\'s and neans of resolving: the insufficient land for grazing, hunting, collecting and gathering the cructy of the Native Commissioner and the punishments meted out by him: the suffering of the job seekers through the contract labour system; and, the lack of interest on the part of the traditional leaders in condemning or calling for an end to the contract labour sx stem. The Land Question Ndemwoongela yaHashingola said: Ni child, the land issue in our communitx did not start with the Odendaal Commission, although it was worsened by it. You must understand the land issue within the context tinder which the Oxawauibo kingdoms had been conquered and colonised. The land problems started after the fall of the ()ukvanxama Kingdom and the death of King Mandune [in 1917] during the British-led South African invasion. '['he two colonial powers, that is, Sotth Africa and Portugal, decided to split up the Oukw anxama Kingdom into two parts. So, they erected a borderline (the local people called it the okenhlau/u/i), to divide our people, becatise they feared that thex would rise against them. 'he splitting up of one people \was done without anx consultations \x ith the local people. '[he people whose homesteads wxere north of the okma,1/uuxi xwere told they belongcd to the Portuguese administration in Angola, while those south of it were tinder the British-South African control. '[hey also attempted to fence it off, so that there would be no interactions between people on either side of the fence. 'his border line xw as erected during 1926 and 1927. Some of Otr omaleiga were still tinder shock over their defeat and loss of King Mandume, and did not put tip any resistance while others eagerly went along with xxhatever the colonisers suggested. The reason for dividing one people and relocating them between the two countries xwas not made known to us. We felt that this divide and rule colonial tactic was meant to silence us and to contain us, in a political, social, and economic context that ensured total control bx the colonial state. Our people were not happy, but thex suffered on both sides of the okhau/u/iu/i in silence. The economlic cOnselCtlnccs \\ere st\ ere for people whose famils members \,ere split between the t\o countries, and \\ho \\ crc warned not to cross oiver to either side. ()ne of the immediate impacts of the okian/au/uli was amongst others, the loss of grazing, gathering, and hunting land that was given away to the Angolan side, lea\ ing those on the Namibian side with little land to surxivc on. The King of Ondonga generously wVClcolmCd us to share whatever land lie had under his control, but this land had \ rx limited pasture and \\ ater resources for watering our livestock. You can just imagine that before the okt'nauha/u/i, our people could move freel\ as far as (Cassinga, and the whole if Evalc was part of our kingdom. 'Il is land issue was never resolved year after \ear, decade after decade until the 1950s, when the situation reached lex els of acute crisis and gict out of contr.i. I \\as at the Tuhadeleni home when two men arrived one afternon. Thev asked to talk to Kaxumba. He asked me to join him at the meeting if the visitors had no objection. This \ as what thex told him: W'e are cattle herders. Last week \\ c were on our \\ ax escorting our cattle to the cattle posts towards the TSumeb area, when suddenly colonial officials riding on horses came into sight. They ordered us to stop gcing an\ further than where we stood and to back with our cattle. They told us w w\xere trespassing on land that belonged to the Etosha National Park. We refused their instructions, because this was the area w\here \\e had established our cattle posts and herded our cattle for centuries. So, they called in policemen with guns. The police chased us away and threatened to relieve us if our cattle if we did not cooperate. They said, it was their land, and that if we had problems with the situation, we x'ere to go to our traditional leaders. They made it vcrx clear toi us that they \x culd shoot anyone v hi came to trespass on their land. Si, We turned back. In this land cf ours, have \'ou ever heard of cattle being turned back to the homestead after the owners had prepared the customatr protocol for sending them to the cattle post. How do you turn them back \\ ithout having reached the cattle post? What do you tell the ancestors? That was traditionallx incorrect. These Boers have no respect for our culture and people. \We could not divert from our mission x\ithout first consulting the owners of the cattle we herded. So. we returned all the cattle to their ccxners' homesteads. On our x\wax home, we heard from people in the homestead where wc overnighted that. n\oadays, the police xere even stopping people from collecting salt and/or ostrich eggs from the Etosha. This is impissible to understand, because from \x hat xx e kn\ix, our pecople fetched salt from the saltpan and collected ontsaka/a [a fruit] and ostrich eggs from Etosha for centuries. These natural resources xwere given to us by God, but the colonial officials ieny our God's gift toI us. What is going to happen to our people? This is also the area where \ c get not oniv salt, but strich shells ficr lur \\ cmen tic xxcar, ontsaka/a for our women's perfume, and many other xvaluable traditional items that our culture depends on for existence. Please talk to the traditional leaders, they must know what is going on. Our cattle w\ill starve to death; there is ni other grazing land. WVhat shall xxwc do? Wc are forbidden from crossing the okalianulli to graze on cur land that no\x belongs to Angola. Yet, here in our own country, our grazing land is again taken axa from uIs. We do not kno what to do. Please help us.' In the days that followed, everyone spoke about this and Tuhadcleni \\ :s compelled to dcc something. I accompanied him to Commissioner Strydom's office to inIlire about the matter of cattle herders chased awav from their grazing land. The Commissioner confirmed the stor\ and said that the traditional leaders had given their consent. He therefore also asked xho Iihadelcini thought he \\as to question the decision of those in authority. Conlmissioner Str\domn wased a document in our faces, saying: 'See your chiefs' fingerprints?' But he refused to gi e it to us or c\ Cn to let us read it. Kamnmiha went to the traditional leaders one by one, because he had no power to summon them to his hImestCad. I did not accompany him to all of them, because these journeys were time consuming, and somc Of our traditional leaders could keep you waiting at their homestead's entrance fur a whole day under the sun. We spent most Of our time just waiting. When we were finally accepted to come in, the reception was good, although they always made a point that Kaxumba had to go through the channels of his own tribal authority. Kaxumba Would ignore these procedures and made his point: "Thank Vou for giving us this audience to bring to \,oi in person problems that are experienced by our people at the cattle posts and the whole area around the Etosha Pan. Our people are dismayed that the traditional hunting, grazing, collecting, and gathering to the south now belong to the colonial authority. It shocks our people that the saltpan, where we have collected salt for years, and the land that \\as traditionally designated for gathering and hunting, have become a Police Zone, where we are no longer allowed to enter. The people wish \ ou to know, that since time immemorial, they carried out their hunting, gathering, and herded their cattle in the big forests of the Ovawx ambo kingdoms. Why should this right be taken away from them? This decision was taken with \our consent, we were told. But, it is hurting the livelihood of our people. I bring you this information in the interest of our communities and people who look up to sour leadership to tell them \ hat to do.' Some of the traditional leaders \\ere eqlually shocked by the news and said thes wxere hearing about it for the first time. "'he situation concerns all of us, as I also have cattle that depend on the land for grazing', said one senior headman. Only three of the traditional leaders had some ideas of ss hat we spoke about, and they too had a different version of it. They told Kaxtumba that: 'Vc are aware of the South African Government plans to turn the wvhole of Etosha into a national park, a nature conservation reserv e. It plans to fence off the Etosha on the side of Owambo, in order to save the lives of our people who are often molested by lions and other dangerous wild animals in their homesteads. Axs you know it for a fact, wve have problems w ith elephants destroying our people's crops, leopards attacking, and lions killing our people. This was what we discussed, and the fence did not imply that our usual cattle post activities be terminated.' Kaxumba asked if it \\yore possible, that by fencing off, the South African officials implied that xxc surrender the land south of the fenced- iff Etosha? Or, did they discuss how our people could cross the fence to go hunting, collecting, gathering or grazing? From this discussion it wx'as clear, that the South African colonial officials \\-ere not honest in their negotiations with traditional leaders, and asked the latter to give fingerprints without proper explanations. It xx as not clear whether the traditional leaders knew how to read, and whether thc understood the legal documents presented to them or the language in vhich the docuiments xxwcrc presented to them for fingerprints. Tuhadeleni requLested the traditional leaders to investigate this situation fulls and to take a position on the land issue and defend the rights of their people. 'You are our leaders and we are vour people, protect xour people's grazing, hunting, and gathering rights. Please protect our traditional economic land from beimg further destabilised hv the imposed colonial structures. This land constitutes a major part of the resources on which our people are dependent for their livelihood. This is the area where they collect salt and the herbs used by women as perfume. This land is also used to obtain ostrich eggshells for beads to knit skirts for girls. This is our only grazing and hunting land.' Some of the traditional leaders perceived "l'ohadeleni as a troublemaker and a threat to their lucrative delegated power positions. I Ic nevertheless advised them to ensure that they understood the full content of an\ documents presented to them h\ the colonial authority before giving their fingerprints. One of the traditional leaders was not happy with Kaxumba's advice, and an argument developed between them. In the end, Kaxumba asked: 'I Would like to know whether there are any other able-bodied men in your family?' 'Yes, there are several, as vou know, I come from a vers large family', replied the chief. 'In that case, I would request you to gike up your power position as elenga to one of \,our relatives, who would not be willing to surrender our land to the colonisers. Our people need the land, it is their source of living, and swe cannot afford to have a leader who is willing to starve his people by taking assay their livelihood.' The chiefs felt insulted, while Kaxumba felt that leaders should listen to the advice and opinions of their subjects. The colonial government was threatened by Kaxumba's activities, and issued instructions to the traditional leaders to forbid political meetings and to eliminate all individuals that were opposing the directives of the colonial authority in the communities. Kaxumba was called to Oshikango tribal authority and warned to stop his political work or face the consequences. He did not yield to threats and continued holding communal meetings where people discussed the land issues and the contract labour system. He made himself known as the voice of the local people, and in the end people came to him with real burning issues. The Contract Labour System Tate Haimbangu Kapolo told me: The contract labour system has to be understood not only in terms of the physical harm to the bodies of the workers, but also in terms of what it has done to the psychology, as well as the cultural context of the workers and their families. You have to understand that family is the centre of life for African people, and when an African is separated from his family for long periods of eighteen months or more, you can imagine what this separation does to the workers. Also, in our culture we have a clear division of labour between men and women, and when men were away on contract, and women were left alone at home, the impact on our cultural activities were very severe. When Kaxumba started his political campaign, these wcrc some of the problems he encouraged us to stand up and fight against. The police were not happy with this development and hated Kaxumba for organising meetings where people spoke openly about such problems and advised each other on the course of action to be taken. A great number of Kaxumba's meetings were often disrupted by the police. They would arrive at a very fast speed, shoot some shots into the air, and walk towards the gathering. While we ran away at the first bullet shot b\ the police, I \\as shocked to notice that Kaxumba did not run. Why. I did not Understand, \e wsere all so surprised that, ai, \\ hat sort of a person was he? \\'h was he not afraid of the \\r h itC me n ? 01,,o/o y'y'a ndle okwai/ikama ashikie tapopi. Oh, shinv oshiku/o sha ai wa kwiina MA"1r I\Vhitc people arri cd, but he just stood, talking. Oh, that was a supernatural man born as he was of his mother and father]! Kaxtmiba did not run nor did he stop us from lea\ ing him alone. He \\as a man who, when taced \ ith some act of injustice or persecution, did not yield meekly to force or military superiority, but took a path if resistance. lie \as a man who established the right to be respected by standing up and fighting. A tall and slender Kaxumba. a man of peace, who never advertised his toughness, he had earned respect bs his actions. If you ask me about the Kaxumba kaNdola legend, I can tell you that Kaxumba is a legend; his legendar\ stories wcrc created based on the facts and realities of his life style, his dreams, idealism, unselfishness, and his social consciousness to live up to his social role and his relationship with the people. It was also during the 1950s, that \\ c heard frequent complains from parents and uncles looking or their nephews that joined the contract workers and were never seen again. Many of the missing workers were said to have gone to work on farms to the south. Fathers and uncles informed tus with much pain about their missing sons and nephews, some of whom had not been seen for fis e or more \cars. They did not know \shere to search for them, and SW\NIA could not help them as they apparently did not keep records of what worker was sent where, becauLse to them esery worker was simply a statistic, a figure. 1, 2, 3. Stories from the returning farm workers revealed that there were farmers who allegedly killed their workers, when they realised that they did not want their services anv more, or had difficulties in paying their salars at the end of the eighteen-month contract.' The community was seriously concerned about their sons, who might disappear with the contract labour system, in the same ssay as those who never returned to the communitv and were assumed dead. \Ve sswere disinherited from both our land and our rights as human beings by the apartheid South African government. Apartheid s\ras a syIstem of governing people through the separate development of evers aspect of life, based on racial and ethnic differences and then imposing hatred between them. In this system, whites were the masters while blacks svere the servants. We were further exploited as a cheap source of labour to further an economy that was completely owned and controlled by the whites. Our movements svere controlled by a degrading pass-law system, which provided that any native who desired to travel within the territory could only do so bh means of a pass issued bs his European employer, a magistrate, or officer in charge. The means for survival were scrs tight: limited land combined with the frequent droughts that drained the resources of the community, so that people could not completely turn their backs on the contract labour system. And, therefore, no man in this country who went through the contract labour ss stem could turn his back on what Kaxumba was advocating. Kaxumba \\as a no-nonsense man. He Ni as not willing to just accept the submissise and sedentars social, economic and political roles we ssere given bs the apartheid authorities. The rccords if the National .\rehiies of Namiibia (N \NAXIAs prn; id"c idt'nCC oft this,

Namutoni Tate Johannes Amwaalwa is a cattle herder, owner of a cattle post in the area north of the Etosha Pan and a former worker of SWANLA. He worked as a contract worker for many years before he was banned in 1967 from crossing at Oshivelo to the south. I asked him to tell me about Namutoni, what it meant to the contract workers and what the Etosha meant to the people of northern Namibia, before the implementation of the Odendaal Commission. This is a summary of what he said. Namutoni is one of the few places in samibia that had been and continues to be a host to herds of wildlife that survive around the Etosha I)an. It w as also the place where we, the O'awambo men, went for hunting and collecting \ arious things such as, salt, ostrich egg shells, and herbal perfumes for our women. We hunted for antelopes, springbok, impala, oryx, and man\ other animal species. Namutoni was a place where men hunted \% ild meat, while lions hunted men for human meat. Namntoni \\ as the land of plenty, it was partly used for grazing, and cattle herders established their cattle posts. The San people also hunted wildlife, gathered wild fruits, and their livelihood depended mainly on xx hat nature provided. !n Namutoni, one finds herds of giraffes, zebras, w ildebeests, kudus, leopards, cheetahs, springboks, impalas, oryx, lions, rhinoceros, meerkats, elephants, ostriches, a variety of birds and other wildlife species. This \\ as ho\\ \\ e had known Namutoni until 1899, when the Germans arrived and built a military fort from 1899 to 1903, when it was completed. They used the fort as their police station, and staffed it with militars personnel. It was from this military fortress that the Germans attempted to control the movement of people, ox wagons, as well as to restrict the cattle trade between Owambo, Ka'ango and the rest of samibia.. \ second fort was built at Okaukuejo in 1904, to reinforce the control efforts. In both cases, these forts were built at waterholes that did not dry up, and this enabled the soldiers to control travellers passing through Etosha with goods or ox wagons to Owambo, Kavango and vice- versa. Namutoni sxas destroyed by King Nehale of Ondonga in 1904, during the anti-colonial resistance war. The fort was, hoxcvcr, rebuilt again after World War I. After the German defeat in 1915, Namutoni was deserted completely, but xw'as reopened after protests from the German community in Namibia. The South African Government x% as pressurised to reopen the fort, but turned it into an exotic tourist centre. Thes; however, reintroduced the control gate at Namutoni, and an additional one at Okaukuejo for people or goods going to or leaving Owimbo. The white settlers and their families visited Etosha as a tourist centre on a regular basis, and drove out in their Land Rovers to observe the variety of herds of wildlife species, which abound in the Etosha Pan. The place had a exotic attraction for colonial officials and their families, who enjoyed the prospect of spending a night in a genuine old-fashioned fort, in the midst of wildlife; but for the black Namibians, Namtutoni became a place of hell. Namutoni was turned into a checkpoint for all black people, especially the contract labourers, as they returned from their eighteen-month stint in the mines. factories, or farms in the socalled Police Zone. It was at Namutoni, that all the returning contract workers were made to disembark from the dusty, worn-out railway buses, that had brought them from the mining towns, the industries, and farms of the south. At Namutoni, young white policemen, on the pretext that they were searching for stolen goods or arms, would force the returning workers to empty their cases on the ground or they would rip open their carefully packed parcels. Sometimes, the police \\ ould claim that they were searching for diamonds, arms, or stolen goods, but their subscqucnt actions bctra\cd their real intentions. It was alleged that the police would pri\atcly dispose of the confiscated property, and pocket the money themschl cs. .As the\ inspected the goods on the ground, they would demand that we produce rcceipts to prove that we really had bought the items, and that they indeed belonged to us, while wc did not have any receipts. \hilc on the job, and when we were recruited as contract labourers, we \\ere not told that there were certain items we Africans were not allowed to buy and possess as personal belongings. On our return from the cightcen-month contract period, the police at the Namutoni check point searched our belongings under the pretext of looking for stolen and unauthorised articles. Shopkeepers did not issue any receipts to us, the Africans. Besides, some of the items that were confiscated by police were gix cn to the workers as a form of payment b\ the employees. This was especially the case with some farm and domestic workers, but when these goods were found in their possession at Namutoni, and ownership could not be proven by way Iof producing receipts, the police retained the goods while the workers returned home empty-handed. They would normally shout that the goods had been stolen. The items that were often taken away from the workers by the police included scented soaps, perfumes, small radios, and good-looking women's clothes, because they regarded such goods as 'inappropriate' within what they conceived of as 'traditional' Owambo culture. The police were enriching themselves by ripping ts off. The painful thing was that we spent more than a whole year away from our families, relatives, and friends working as contract workers, and were being paid vcrC little. For us to be robbed of our hard-won belongings, and especially by the officials of the system, which already oppressed our labour, w\as an act of cruelty. The goods that were confiscated often represented a greater part of our earnings for an entire year, especially in the case of farm workers. The workers were not happy about this treatment at Namutoni and, therefore, took their complaints to Tate Eliaser Tuhadeleni, both as individuals and as groups, asking for his support in the fight against the injustices of the contract labour system. Tuhadeleni was verv articulate, outspoken, brave, and candid. This was the reason why many workers asked his support. He took up our problems with the senior headmen of Owambo. He informed them about the humiliation of the contract workers during the recruitment process, their maltreatment by the police at NamUtoni and Oshivelo. and about the general suffering of the workers in the mines, farms, and other industries, and requested their urgent intervention. Some of the senior headmen chased him away. The\ did not want to see him; some said they did not talk to ordinary citizens although Kaxumba was not an ordinary man. Few agreed to see him and to listen to him, but as time went on, it became clear that even those who agreed to listen to him, took no action, and the contract workers continued to suffer. Resolving Workers' Problems How did the contract workers resolve their problems and how did cattle herders find pasture for their cattle? Tate Johannes Stephanus responded: People were disappointed hv their new traditional leaders. They lost hope in their ability to lead them and to help them solve the colonial problems. It \\as at this point that people started to question the role of traditional leaders as rcprcscntatis cs of their 05w n people. KaXumba and other enlightened Namibians started raising awareness about the plight of the workers and adv'ocated for the abolition of the contract labour system. In January 1954, he \srotc a petition on behalf of the workers and handed it to Native Commissioncr Strydom in person. I accompanied Kaxunba to ()hangwcna because I \\as his secretarsr at tile time. The Commissioner took the petition but lie did not bother to respond or to instruct his police to stop robbing the workers of their goods. There was no other choice than to turn to the churches for help. Kaxumba organised a public meeting and in\ ited many church leaders to attend. Rev Theophilus tlamutumbangela of the Anglican (Church at Odibo sswas one of the few church leaders who attended the meeting. During this meeting, Kaxumba informed the churches about tile sufferings of tile workers resulting from the contract labour system. 'The workers are part and parcel of our community and that if they have a problem the church is also part of it and can help to solve community problems. Wc request church leaders not to distance themselves from the problems faced by contract workers at the recruitment centre at Ondangwa, on the farms, in mines and factories, and at Oshivelo and Namutoni. Many are shocked to realise that the traditional leaders are not making a firm decision by using their power to talk to the government to ease the contract arrangements or stop the police from robbing people of their goods at Namutoni and Oshivelo. It is a disturbing factor that no community leader including the churches stand up for them. The community is quiet, our leaders are indifferent, we therefore called this meeting to bring you our problems because Ns e have been wondering as to, how long can our leaders keep quiet while wse suffer under apartheid? How long can our church leaders close their eves or watch in silence while their people, their church members suffer at the hands of apartheid? We feel that the Church has got the responsibility to also fight for justice.' In April 1954, Rev Hamutumbangela collected evidence of the confiscations from the contract workers and sent a letter of protest to the United Nations [UN] in New York. It was feared that the apartheid police might confiscate the letter before it reached its destination and it -was therefore posted through his sister, Valowa yaHLamukoto, who was married to a Portuguese trader living in southern Angola. This letter reached the IUN and b' August 1954, they sent a reply directly to Hamutumbangela's address at Odibo St. Mary. Unfortunately, the police detected the letter and confiscated it. One day, as Rev Hamutumbangela was conducting a church meeting on the veranda of his home, two police officers entered his home. They walked straight to the veranda, where the meeting was being held, and the following conversation took place: The Police Officer: Is this the house of Rev Theophilus Hamutumbangela? Rev Hamutumbangela: Yes, it is. The Police Officer: Are you the Rev Hamutumbangela? Rev Hamutumbangela: Yes, I am. The Police Officer: Is it you who wrote to the United Nations? Rev Hamutumbangela: Yes indeed, and I told them everything about how my people arc enslaved by your apartheid laws.

The IPoice ( )fficer: Rex I lanmrtumlbangCla: \Vc brought Vou this letter from the United Nations, responding to (our letter that yon wrote to them about things, which you, as a responsible citizen and teacher were supposed to raise with us, without has ing to run to the United Nations. All the things I took Lip with the [IN wx ere already raised with y our government. But, because Voni ignored all our letters and the demands of my people, I decided to raise my people's concern with those who are willing to listen to them. The police handed over the reply letter to the priest, and in return, he informed them that he \xas going to send an urgent reply to the United Nations. An eyewitness to the palaver said that the police officers appeared vcry uncomfortable with the intelligent way in which the Rex erend had spoken. They walked away without any further discussion. This letter brought the priest Much trouble with the police, and a number of cases, ranging from adulter\ to political interference, were brought against the priest mainly to humiliate him. In 1955, he xx as accused by the police uf preaching politics, and was made to stand trial before the Ohangxena traditional authority. Commissioners Hellene and Verwxoerd came from Windhoek to judge the priest. As soon as Tuhadeleni heard about the trial, he sent messages to c\ cry possible person and to e\erN corner of Owambo, urging people to attend the priest's trial at Ohangvcna. This trial drcx\ a greater public interest than the apartheid authority had anticipated. 'luhadeleni's presence at this trial provided the necessary leadership for the people attending the trial on the side of the priest. He told the people not to be afraid, and never to keep quiet or watch silently, while their priest was humiliated in public. The trial started x\ ith the authority making disrespectful remarks and threatening the Reverend: Vc sent x'ou to school to study theology and not politics, and ifyou do not want to stay in line and learn to separate politics from \our religious responsibilities, we shall deal with xOu accordingly.' They read out loud and clear the charges against the Reverend, but the people attending the trial came to the priest's aid. They rushed to the priest, picked him up and carried him up in the air like a king and started singing at the top of their voices: .\'a/i a,/i'kr, N\a/i a/lk, Nea/i eilake (zkt /au, Lct it cm()e back, Ixet it cmc back, L ,et oir countr\ c()mc back. Arti al ex idcncc on this trial d ,cs not ci',t. Rev I lamUtumbangela x as tall, huge, and very strongly built, he could not just be easily carricd and held up high, but the people lifted him up and carried him around while singing Xa/v aa/uke for (iiite a long time. This created total chaos for the unprepared apartheid officials. The commissioners and the traditional authorities watched in disbelief as the crowd humiliated them by giving their full and total support to the Reverend. The trial ended in a haphazard manner, with the authorities threatening to remove the priest from the community because he was apparently becoming too dangerous, and too destructive to the nation. )espite these threats against the priest, he continued to stand up for his people. About three xx ceks after the trial, Rex flamutumbangela was recalled to \Vindhoek by his church. Later on, wc heard that the police had arrested him upon his arrival in Windhoek, turtured him badly, and almost disabled him for the rest of his life until his death in 1992. \\'e called a public meeting to discuss Hfamutumbangela's arrest, at which Tuhadeleni gave this message:

'I learned with shock and dishclicf that Re\ I laImutunbangela has been removed from our community because he was apparently becoming dangerous to the community. Is HaIamutumbangela a dangerous person to your' 'No', shouted the crowd. 'Who is posing a danger to \ot, and me?' 'The police', responded the people. 'It is unfortunate for our communit\ to be deprived of its own son Re\ Hanmtunmbangela and to lose a man of his strength and support. This is devastating to our community and to mc personally. The arrest of Hamutumbangela is an injury to all of us. Our freedom fighter and dearest friend, our tather and fellow countrvman has been arrested by the apartheid regime as a punitive measure to silence our people. His absence is a great loss to our community and people. I lamutumlbangela does not deserve to be jailed. lie has not done any thing wrong. The only thing he did was that he stood up to fight for the right of his people against the colonial oppression. He stood up for me and \oi. and we must therefore not rest until lie is freed and returned to Odibo, to his community where he belongs, and not in jail, nor in Windhoek. The apartheid government, instead of listening to what the priest had to say about the suffering imposed by their oppressive laws on our people, arrested him. What sort of government is that, which does not discuss and listen to its subjects? Hamutumbangela is jailed for us, he was fighting for our rights and we must not let him suffer for nothing. We must continue the struggle and fight until \ictory, Victory is what Hamutumbangela wanted. Victory for his people to be free from colonial oppression and suppression. We must continue our meetings and must inform the traditional authorities about the extent of the sufferings of their people under the contract labour system. They must have no excuse or say they did not knowv. The Commissioner must be reminded, that when the South Africans came here, they promised to prepare our people for self-rule and independence, but they are not doing an of this. Instead, thev turned us into a colony and passed laws that govern us as if we are slaves. They must know that sse are getting tired of reminding them to honour their promises. They must change their colonial laws, and the arrest, torture and killing of our people must stop, because killing ss'ill not solse the problem. What they must do is to give us our freedom and independence.' Those at the meeting decided to approach the traditional authorities, the Church and the Commissioner's office to demand Hamutumbangela's release and his return to Odibo. The traditional authorities said that they did not interfere in Church business and that the Reverend was recalled to Windhoek bv his own church. The Commissioner did not es en bother to talk to us. The Anglican (hurch at Odibo said that it did not know what happened to Rev Hamutumbangela upon his arrival in Windhoek, and that it was not them who handed him to the police. Campaigning and Mobilising Kaxumba's political influence did not only touch the contract workers, Mr Eelu Kambabi, a former teacher at Ongwediva Teacher Training College said: Kaxumba \\'as a great political role model; he was courageous and inspiring to his folloss crs. He was a rare politician, who did as he said and laid down svery good examples for his followers. My first political contact swas through Tate Kaxumba, from whom I heard for the first time about the Ovamboland People's Organisation tOPOI. I later on got to know other OPO leaders, like Tare Simon Kaukungwa, Herman Toivo ya'Toi\o, and Nathaniel Nlaxwilili.

Kaxlmba w alked up and down this countr\, like a barefooted soldier, to create political awNarcness around conflict issues that mattered to the people, and he made them understand h\ anti-colonial resistance xas necssary and why it must be supported. The traditional leadership did not support Kaxumba's efforts and if they supported him at all, this did not happen in public. \Vhat wc sa\\ in public, was their police coming to arrest Kaxumba and to interrupt his meetings. The traditional leaders did all they could to get Kaxumba arrested and put in jail. The authorities described him as 'stiff-necked and recalcitrant', an indiv idual rebel, but to us he was our hero, the man who from his actions made himself respected. He was, howe\cr, supported by Rev Theophilus Hamutumbangela of the St. Mar\'s Church at Odiho. They started an underground resistance movement called Onkugo yepongo oKalunga heyi tondoka [N',hu,"o yepongol, meaning, the call of an orphan who is rescued b\ God. Giving this name to an organisation was strategically to attract members with the Christian flavour. So people \would come to listen to the words of God, and in between, introduce politics; we would find phrases in the Bible that would justify our hope to be free one day just like the Israelites. Through this organisation, the\ wrote letters to the United Nations through the Reverend's sister living in Angola, as well as through a pastor in Cape Town, who in turn sent them through the Church to someone in England, who transmitted these letters then to the tIN in New York. 'l'uhadeleni also wrote letters to the Native Commissioner, Mr Strydom, on the land issue and the contract labour system. Some of these were used to aggravate the charges against him during the 1967/68 Terrorism Trial in Pretoria. While Kaxumba was mobilising people in northern Namibia, a parallel development by other Namibians working in Cape Town took place. Tate Andimba yaToivo recalled: One day in 1954, as we picked up the newspaper in Cape Town, we noticed a photograph of Nburumba Kerina. He was speaking at the i N in New York and telling the whole world about the sufferings of the Namibian people under apartheid. This article was published with Kerina's address. Wc copied it down and started writing to him. In 1957, Namibians working in Cape bwn formed an organisation called the Ovamboland People's Congress [OPC], and with Kerina's advice, we also wrote petitions to the UN directly and through him. Wc requested the tIN to terminate the South African administration over Namibia, and to place Namibia tinder the Trusteeship Council, and to do away with the contract labour system. The police detected our activities, and in 1958 1 was deported from Cape Town. I went tip north and started working together with Kaxumba and others. We continued with our political \\ ork, mobilising the people, particularly the contract workers in mines and factories. Kaxomba and I were banned from joining okaho/o and from leaving Owambo to go to the south. They said that \% c had a bad influence on other workers. We intensified our political work by holding meetings and listening to ptblic complaints. The political movements swere formed out of meetings and discussions of real issues and problems faced by the workers and the community at large. N ehuovepotgo, which means, Voice of an Orphan, was formed when people realised that their oma/til/a went along with the colonial government, they turned their backs on them, and no longer looked after their problems. .Yghuzrovepongo svas an underground pressure group that prcssurised traditional leaders and the UN to terminate the mandate.

In 1958, another political organisation called the ()wanoland lPeople's Organisation was formed inside Namibia; it merged Ng hu/,woypougo and the Ovamboland People's Congress. In 1959, after the forced removal of our people from the Old Location to Katutura, the repression increased and there was a police order to kill Sam Nujoma. With the help of Chief Hosea Kutako, Nujoma escaped into exile through Botswana and managed to reach the United Nations in New York. lic sent us a message from New York asking us to form an umbrella organisation that represented all the people of Namibia. The lobbying began for OPO, SWANU [South West Africa National Union] and CANIT [Caprivi African National Union] to join hands and amalgamate into one umbrella organisation. Some people from these organisations came together to form the South \Vest Africa People's Organisation [SWAPO] in 1960. Kaxumba was a driving force. And, all these political activities led to Kaxumba's arrest and banishment into the unknown forest by the police. Kaxumba Is Arrested Meme Priskila recalled how, for the first time, her husband was arrested by the police at their home at Endola, how his case was handled, his imprisonment and his return home. It was towards the end of the rainy season of 1960, when, one day, at around 17.00, the police arrived at our home at Endola. They found us seated in our newly built hut. So, they walked right in without alerting us of their presence. They were already inside our home, when I heard their first greeting, mzauha/amo [good afternoon]. They proceeded on their own accord, and went to sit down in our ohipale [the main reception area]. So, I went to greet them. ,lleme Priskila: Good afternoon Tate. The Police: Good afternoon lleme. ,lleme Priskila: How are you this late afternoon? The Police: We are well, but we need to talk to Tae Eliaser. Meme Priskila: Oo, he is in, I shall call him. The Police: Ee-,w I informed Kaxumba that he had visitors. We knew in any case, just at the sight of the police that they had come for Kaxumba, as this was not the first time the police came to our home. Kaxumba went into his room, put on his clothes, wore his traditional dagger, and went to greet his guests. The police said: 'We are sent by Mr Strydom to take you to Ohangwena. We are instructed to take you in chains, and you are going to be jailed, because you have been seen conducting OPO meetings despite the ban to talk politics to the people.' They advanced on him, removed his dagger, and gave it to me saying: 'This dagger will not be needed at Ohangwena.' They chained his legs with leg irons. They also tied his hands at the back. They instructed him to walk to their car that was parked in front of our homestead. I watched on with my children in shock and disbelief, as they drove off with my husband. This was the first time that Kaxumba was arrested at our home at Endola, and was taken to the prison in Ohangwena. The authorities had him blacklisted as a troublemaker, who wanted to stir up the people against the colonial government. Commissioner Strydom detained Kaxumba tnder the tree near his office in Ohangwena, with one of his legs chained to a very llc I/e ,I /1 , Ilhl/ A hi . I'll~i ' U/Io" I Il/IIl. 1 . heavv chain. At night, when everyone went to sleep, they would chain his leg iron to the tree. "'Ihis was how Kaxtmrba was kept for a months at Ohangwsena without any trial. In our society, long before the colonisers came, our leaders could summon any of their subjects to the owha/aomoi,, e [residence ofa king where people meet to debate/discuss]. At the omnba/a, people gathered to hear and discuss allegations brought before the person charged. The matter was discussed and es ervbody could listen and be listened to. The verdict was given right there. The relatives and friends of the accused attended these hearings. In fact, any community member was free to attend the ombala hearings, and no invitation was needed. In Kaxumba's case, the police just came and took him away. \Ve waited for his return for days and weeks, but in vain. I got worried, and went to our headman for advice, but he too was in the same predicament. The police arrested Kaxumba from within the community without informing our headman. Traditionally, the headman would be the one to apprehend him to the higher authority. I was shocked to realise that our society was changed, and we were not informed about the changes. We were now ruled by the police; they had taken over our headman's functions, and had become the e/emav adviser and right-hand assistant. Our headman lived in our community, he understood our customs, but the police did not. They arrested my husband without telling us, his family, what he did, w'li the arrest was necessary, when the hearings on his case Would be held, or if he was already proven guilty swithout trial, what the charges and verdict were. Kaxumha was a hard-working man and was always occupied with work. At Ohangwena prison, he sat all day and night without anything to do, because prisoners were not given any work. At one stage, Kaxumba could no longer stand this idling or rather wasting of human talents, tic asked for brick-making tools from community members who came to visit him, and started making bricks. He built a brick house that ironically became a prison.

The Judgement Meme Priskila explained: One evening, We had just our supper and were about to go to bed. We heard people walking and talking towards our house. They stopped at our entrance door. 'Good evening', they said. 'Good evening', we responded. As they walked inside our homestead, we realised that they were many, about ten or so. After exchanging greetings, they told me: 'We are coming from Ohangwena, where we attended a special meeting for teachers. The traditional authorities, through the l)epartment of Education for Owambos, called this meeting. At this meeting, we were advised to be careful and not to allow oursel es to be misled by Kaxumba and his communist politics. We were warned to stay away from him and guard against communist SWAPO from coming to power in our country, because this would be disastrous. "We are warning you to be careful about Kaxumba, because we do not want you to suffer from regret." At the end of our meeting, we were further told that another meeting had been called for the \\hole community and would commence immediately after ours, and that those who were interested in attending were welcome. So, we decided to stay on for this meeting. The senior headman of the Oukwanyama tribal authority, Tate Kaningwalenga, told the people attending the meeting: "This meeting is called to hear the judgment on the case of Eliaser Tuhadeleni. currently imprisoned by us because of his increasing communist activities in the community. He is too dangerous to be allowed to stay further among the people. It is our obligation, as traditional leaders, to remove all persons who pose a serious danger to our people. We arrested and jailed him at Ohangwena. The Native Commissioner for the Owambos looked at his conduct and passed a judgement, which we intend to share with you at this meeting. And, that is, Kaxumba. will be banished to the deepest forest on the OkavangoAngolan boarder with his whole family, and will be left there to starve to death or be eaten Lip by wild animals. They shall be left there tied to a tree with a drum of water and a bag of mieliemeal." We were distressed by this judgment and felt obliged to come and warn you and the children, so that you can hide somewhere before the police get here to fetch you', said the teachers. I thanked them for their concern and for coming all the way to alert me about my husband's judgement. So they left, and we went to bed. I lay on my bed, my eyes wide open. I could not fall asleep. I kept on thinking how wvc were going to survive in the jungle. In the morning, I did not know whom to tell, what to do, or where to go. I decided to stay at home with m kids. I was prepared to face the police. I waited for them. If Kaxumba was arrested for holding SWAPO meetings and speaking about politics, the children and I will be arrested for what? I wondered to myself. Kaxumba Is Deported Meme Priskila continued: One day, I left home to visit a neighbour, Melne Beata. As wc sat at her home chatting, suddenly we heard a noise. We got up to pay attention. I saw my kids screaming and running toward her home. They were calling, 'Mee Priskila, Meme-Aleme, the Albion is coming.' 'What is the Albion?'

'A huge truck from Ohangw ena called katutamaumbo [the home remover].' ")o. " We all rushed Out of BCata's home to see what was going on. We could hear the car roar. We sa\ a huge car, about fi\c metres high and eight metres long. It was moving fast towards our home. I put my haby on my back and started running. I hoped to get home before it did. Unfortunately, the car ran faster than I could. Before I crossed the oshana that stretches between our home and the school, the Albion was already parked at our home's entrance, taking up the whole shade of my Nfarula tree. I feared for my tree, as this huge car advanced towards it. I saw three men jumping out of this huge lorry and walking towards the house. Now I was running really fast, while ,1cnn, Beata ran after me. I started wondering whether this car had come to fetch us, as told by the teachers, or maybe something happened at Ohangwena and they had returned Kaxumba home. We continued running. When we finally arrived at our home, the three men were already inside the house. I wondered who had welcomed them? It is not our custom to enter someone's home without being welcomed by the hosts. When they arrived, thev could see that there was no one at home, but despite this, they forced their way into our homestead and started peeping and looking all around the house. I was shocked to come home and find police walking up and down, peeping all over our home in our absence. This made me feel very uncomfortable, and I found it difficult to enter the house while the police wiere already inside. I decided to greet them while outside the home, something they should have done before entering our home. dlleme Priskila: The Police: Meine Priskila: The Police: lleme Priskila: The Police: ,leu, Priskila: The Police: JMeme Priskila: The Police: M,,u' Priskila: Good afternoon Tae. Please tell me who you are and hoxw you entered this house in my absence? Good afternoon Illeme. Please come in. No, I cannot enter a house that I just found occupied by its new owners. Aaye ,lleme, this is your home. As you can see for yourself, this house has new owners. I will not enter. I do not know w hx you entered mx home in my absence. Do I know what you brought in or took out of this house? You fabricate evidence about people; do I even know what brought you here? I will not enter the house, you can talk to me from where I am standing. We are sent by Nir Strydom to bring you, the children, goats, omaanda, cattle and your entire household belongings to be deli ered at Ohangwena. How are you going to deliver us, the cattle, goats, and the entire household and what are we going to do at Ohangwena with all these things? YOu all fit into this truck and we shall take you to Kaxumba. Is it Kaxumba who sent \ oU to pack us up among the goats, cattle, and the whole household, and \why didn't he fetch us himself? Kaxumba is at Ohangwena, and we will take you to him. Listen here, we Ovawambos have a culture of trust, in that the owners of households are entrusted with the safe-keeping of other people's properties, such as livestock, jewellcry, or money. A contract worker, who had returned from his employment contract with money and material property, decided to give some of this valuable property to Kaxumba for safekeeping. We are entrusted with people's property in this house, how am I supposed to settle these matters in Kaxumba's absence? Did he tell you which cattle we must give to whom, what goats to come with, whom to leave in the house, did he say anything about the entrusted properties kept in this house?

The Police: He said \\ e must come here and fetch \ouI and your entire household belongings. .lleme Priskila: We are not coming; you can tell him to fetch us himself. The Police: Ooooh, hmmnmmm. I low are we going to face Nir Strydomr? lie wvill not accept this. .1eme Priskila: Do not waste my time any longer. You do not cx en know wiho sent you to conie here, it seems. I realised that the police were not telling the truth. Firstly, they said that Nir Strydom sent them. Suddenly, it was Kaxumba who asked them to fetch us. I also knew from the teachers that we were going to be removed from our home and banished into the forest. I had to put my foot down and tell them: 'I am not coming with you, go and tell him that I refuse to come. I can only go if Kaxumba fetches us himself. Besides, Kaxumba can \\ rite, x\ hy didn't he at least write to us to ask how we are doing and instruct us what needs to be done?' Many Endola residents came to find out what was going on, because they heard and saw the Albion rushing to our home. A crowd of people gathered at our home asked the police: 'Have you been to the head of Kaxtmba's clan? Have you informed any of his relatives that you intend to remove his household to Ohangxxena?' 'No', responded the police. 'We want you to know that you are dealing with people, human beings, and not discarded cartons at a rubbish bin', warned the crowd. I had a brother, Mike yaMusheko, who was teaching at Endola Primary School, he too saxw the truck heading to our home, and knowing that Kaxumba was still held by the police, he rushed to the scene. Upon his arrival he noticed that the situation was getting out of hand and, therefore, suggested to the police to discuss this matter with him in private. In the meantime, more people arrived at our home, and those with knowledge of traditional law had questions to put before the police. The incident turned into a point-scoring arguments, and the police soon realised that there was no way they could win the debate. They grabbed at the suggestion for private talks. .Meme Beata and some other male neighbours joined the discussion that lasted for about an hour, and then the police turned to me again. The Endola residents came to my aid and the issue became a communal business. The Police: .lleme Priskila, we can see that this is not really an easy matter and we realise you might not easily come with us. Wc, however, want to beg you and the baby to accompany us back to Ohangwena, but not to take all your household. Kindly come into the house to prepare yourself and the baby for the journey to Ohangwena. Aeme Priskila: You must understand that we live here in this ward, tunder the authority of the headman who settled us in this ward. Ylou cannot just come here, arrest Kaxumba, go away with him to Ohangwcna, and now again, xithout first returning my husband, you want to take off xwith the baby and me. You are adult men yourself with households of your own. Would you leave N our children alone and go away with the police after they have arrested \'our wife for months without even telling you where they have taken her, whx and for how long! Would you? The Police: We understand, this is not easy Jleme, but please come with us.

,Ih'cln Priskila: The Police: Endola Crowd: The Police: Have you been to the headman's house to report this matter? Or, how do 'ou remove our household from the ward without going through the headman who settled us here? We were settled here legally, in accordance with the provisions of the traditional authorities, as is done to all the families in the community. We live here as subjects of the headman who is in charge of this ward, how do you remove any of his subjects without passing through him? What type of policemen are you, and do you work for the law by breaking it? No, where is the headman's house? Are you sure, you are sent by the government? What government is this that does not respect the laws of the land? YOu are working for the law-implcmenting agency but you are breaking the laws and have no respect for it. We do not understand you. Please tells us where the headman's house is, we want to go there. Someone Volunteered to take them, and off they rushed to the headman's house on foot. Within minutes, they returned with the headman and two of his neighbours to hear our case. The people gathered again to hear what was next. The headman wanted to know what act wc had committed that warranted an arrest, but those xx ho came to arrest us had no answer. They could not answer what charges they brought against us, and whv we had to go to Ohangwena. The police spoke again: 'We are sent by Commissioner Strydom to collect .leme Priskila, the kids, goats, cattle, and all their household belongings. She has refused to pack up her household and come with us. Wc are now suggesting to her that things can remain behind, but she should come with us, so that she can hear for herself what the government has to say.' The headman decided: 'Iflme Priskila is going, then my two neighbours and I must accompany her to Ohangwena.' In the light of this new development, I decided to go. I went to put on my clothes, dress the baby, and packed whatever I could grab for the baby, such as food and a baby blanket. The headman, his two neighbours, the baby, and I climbed onto the back of the huge truck, while the three policemen sat in front. We drove to Ohangwena. In the empty truck of that size, with no chair to sit on or something to hold onto, we found ourselves rolling like watermelons from one side of the truck to the next. We rolled with the truck at every turn it took. Our headman \was the first one to roll. He was thrown up in the air and down. He rolled to the other side of the truck and we heard a big bang, it was his head crushing against the side of the truck. The scene was funny at times, and we sometimes had a big laugh, but when the baby and I rolled and crashed into the opposite wall of the truck, there was complete silence. Keshe was a strong child, and he behaved as if he understood the war. Wc continued with our journey, rolling to and forth whenever the truck took a turn, and being tossed into the air everv time the Albion drove over some bumpy spots on the gravel road to the tribal authorities in Ohangwena. We were completely in the dark. We could not see where wc were going, because the truck did not have any windows. Meeting Chief Kaningwalenga Meme Priskila continued: The Albion stopped. The police opened the door of the container where we sat. We all jumped out. As the door was being opened I heard someone clapping hands and saying: 'Ovo aaniaa' [welcone, welcome]. I immediately wondered if it was Kaxumba welcoming us, but it was not Kaxumba's voice. I looked out and saw Chief Kaningwalenga (halandifapo Oshiwana clapping his hands and saying: "11;-va-ea a~rez-c'ta, ozonan;aa, ovollaua'you delivered them, welcome, welcome, a job well done]. I looked further and saw Kaxumba sitting under the tree with his arms and legs chained. 'Where are the children and the livestock" asked Chief Kaningwalenga. There was silence, and no one spoke. The police walked towards him and said: 'Here arc the wife and child, that is all we brought.' Kaxtumba caunght sight of me. W1i1t, he rose from that brick chair to face the policemen and their chief. 'Kanin'M alenga, he called out, what is going on here? This truck passed over my feet without you saving a word or even greeting me. You went to bring my wife from my house lea\ing me here without saying a \\ ord. What crime did she commit. Whx are ou bringing her here?' Kaxumba demanded to know. There was a complete silence. With his hands tied together, Kaxumba was firing words and wanted answers. One of the policemen spoke: 'Ve were sent by MIr Strydom, the owner of the land, to go and fetch \our whole household and deliver it to ()hangscna. Unfortunately, when we got to your home, things turned a bit different and \\c only came with Vour wife.' Kaxumba was not satisfied with the answer from the police: he demanded an ans\\er: 'Kaningwalenga speak, why is my wife here?' Our headman responded: '\Ve \\ ere shocked to hear that .eme Priskila was to be removed from your home and was wanted by the government at Ohangwena. We have never heard of any such cases before, so we decided to come with her to hear for ourselves what the matter is.' Chief Kaningwalenga said: 'Ny dearest brother, I am \ er\ sorry. It was not my request to fetch your family from home. It was lr Strdohm who sent the truck.' Kaxumba xx as not to hear of this. 'You knew the plan, \\ h didn't you tell me that a truck was going to my house to fetch mx household?' The two men argued vigorously and unabated until Kaningwalenga finally apologised. He went to telephone NIr Strydom, so that he could resolve this matter, but he returned saying that he could not get hold of him, because he was apparently driving a prisoner back to Ruacana. We waited under the Jackelberry tree where we had found Kaxumba in chains. While we waited with annoyance, the chief went to buy us fried meat and tombo [homebrewed beer]. I could not eat. I was not hungry and had no appetite. I also did not trust his food. He tried to boost my morale, but I had too many unanswered questions in my mind and worried about my children back home. Meeting Native Commissioner Strydom Meme Priskilas story continued: At about 17h00 Native Commissioner Strydom arrived. I Ic did not greet us nor look at us. His car just sped over our feet, leaving a trail of dust that enxw rapped us for a while. He parked in front of the tribal building and rushed in like someone being sought after by a hungry lion. Kaningwalenga stampeded after him. They closed the door. Later on, they both came out to face Kaxumba. Nir Strvdom walked to Kamumba without greeting him or us; he ordered him to get into his car. Kaxumba refused to get into the car, saying: 'I \\ ill not go without speaking first. I do not want to die without speaking my mind.' An argument broke out. We watched as Nlr Strydom lost his temper, Kaxumba fighting for his survival in a heated debate. The headman, neighbours, and I watched in silence. I was encouraged by the way Kaxumba challenged Nir Strydom, making his point whether Nir

Strvdom was cmotioral or not. 'S\VAPO\ will live whether you like it or not. The work of SWAP() shall continue no matter what you do to me. I was born a man and will die one.' At some stage I got frightened by Nir Strydom's temper and feared that he might shoot Kaxumra. I kept watching him walking Up and down with his gun hanging at his waist, while Kaxumba had no gun and his hands wcrc chained. After a long and heated argument, Kaxumba climbed into the car and they drove off. Strydom did not speak a word to me nor to our headman I came with. What a big insult that was. This was unspeakable, after all the trouble with the police dragging us to Ohangwena at his own request. Vc were left standing with some curious community members, Kaningwalenga and the Albion that brought us. Kaningwalenga stood there looking at me. His legs seemed to grow bigger than the rest of his body. People came to talk to us and to express their dismay; they also told us that Strydom vowed to come for me himself. I was encouraged and inspired to fight like Kaxumba. Inside my heart, I promised myself, I would return home and never again be moved from my home. I shall wait for Stl.dom. He will have to mo e me out of our household a dead person. \We thanked the people for showing us their support and set out on our journey back to Endola. Suddenly, Kaningwalenga moved towards me and said: 'Mv sister-in-law, I am sorry you have to go through all this. You must be hungry now, the whole day without anything to eat. Please come to my house and we will have something prepared quickly for you and the baby to eat.' I could not believe Kaningwalenga could make this statement and expect me to believe he was genuine. I told him I was going home to find my children. Food was the last thing I wanted to hear about; being home with my children was all I wanted. 'You saw their father driven away without even a word as to where he is being taken. I have a heavy and bleeding heart. Sir, I shall have to go home.' I asked our headman and his neighbours to kindly walk me back home. On our way home, an idea came to my mind that, instead of going to Endola, we could pass by the home of our senior headman, Nlengela Shikesho, to inform him of what had happened. The senior headman was totally shocked by our story and thanked our headman for giving me support. He requested from us that, if Nir Strydom or his police came back for me, we were to report the matter to him immediately. \\'hen we were leaving, he said to me: 'I want you to stay calm and quiet in your home and do not move out of that house. If you have anv problems, I want you to inform me, I would really like to be of help to you and your famil Go well and look after the children.' We thanked the senior headman and left. At home, my children were very happy to see me. I was pleased to find them well with some neighbours who came over to help. The Endola community was very supportive, and they always stood behind me in very many difficult circumstances. This was very helpful, because it made me feel I belonged to a community of people who cared. I felt the community shared my husband's pain and suffering. The headman and his two neighbours set off to their homes. I thanked them for standing up for my family and me. I was left alone with my children and waited for Mr Strydom to come back for us. I waited and waited, then a week passed, then a month, with no certainty of Kaxumba's whereabouts and no police coming to fetch us. The community, on the other hand, never stopped talking about Kaxumba. Almost every day we heard rumours about Kaxumba's whereabouts from people coming to our home. Some people said: 'Kaxumba's life is in the hands of God; only God can sax e his life'. Or: 'He was taken into the deepest forest to the eastern part of the country and left there to be eaten up by wild animals, or stars e to death.' Yct other pcople told me that Kaxuimba had been sold as a slave labourer to the Portuguese in Angola. There was another storx of Kaxtunba being imprisoned at the Ka\ ango-Angolan border. \What \\,as strange about all these rumours, was that no oe said they had seen Kaxtunha or that he was alive. Suddenlx., \\ ord began to spread from mouth to ear in the comm uni ty, until it was whispered into nm cars, that Eliaser was dead. One day, someone \iho prohablk thought that Eliascr's death \\ as o 'ficial, asked in my presence how much our home was being sold fr. Ihe lcmessage was clear to me, because according to our tradition, ifa husband dies the user right to the land is resold by the headman to another member of the communit. 'This made me ponder about the possihility that Eliaser had really died. So, I felt heartbroken. While it w\as easv to listen to the people informing me about Kaxtumba, it was difficult for me to deal with all the thoughts after people had left. I knew people meant well with what they said, because our community w\as our biggest source of support. However, this anxiety \\as \err lonesome and painful. I decided to approach our senior headman, Niengela, and asked him to inquire about my husband's \\hereabouts. He tried to inquire without much success. During the second month, we received some news from headman Nlengela, that Kaxumba \\as at the house of senior headman, Elia Weyulh. at Ehafo. During the same month, a small boy arrived at our home one afternoon and said: 'The priest sent me to inform xi, that lie urgently needs you at the church office.' '[he church is about five minutes from our home, so I got up immediatch and went there. I fInd the priest in the oshjnvall~'a [church office]. He offered me a seat and presented me with a closed envelopc, and asked me to open it. Inside I found 200 Rand and a letter from the SWAP) headquarters in Windhoek. The letter had a list of names of SWAPO members in Windhock who had collected and donated the money to uIs in the spirit of solidarit\. I was sery touched bw their solidarity and concern. I felt good that someone had thought about LIs and actually \xent out there to collect money to help my family and me. The fact that someone cared, that someone \\as concerned about our vellbeing was reassuring. I walked home feeling spiritually very uplifted. The 'Save Kaxumba' Efforts The 1960 arrest and deportation of Tuhadeleni resulted in a public outcry, and a number of petitions and letters by several Namibians were sent to the United Nations exposing and condemning this incident. The following petitions and letters were among those that were published by the UN General Assembly in document A/AC.73/4 in the 1960s. One of the letters sent read: When Mr. Tuhadeleni, our secretary for ()vamboland [sic] \%as arrested in O\ amboland. NIr Ja 'Toixo [sic] informed us about his arrest by telegram. '[hen the UhInion (oueirnent EXILED Nir'Iihadeleni, \lr Ja 'ibi\o informed us again by telegram, these two telegrams were forwarded to the U nited Nations Organization bx iur representatives, \lr Sani Nujoma and Nr Niburumba Kerina. The I nion's representative informed his gmcrnminet about the txwo telegrams which he saw at INO, then Nlr Ja 'Ioi\o v\\as arrested, and is still in jail today.... ir Tuhadeleni was given 3 tins of water and 3 bags of food then locked up at a concentration camp for political prisoners, which is situated betw een the border of Angola and Ovamnboland at the north-eastern side.... If I sign mx name, I \N il probablx be deported soon, so I appeal that the Secretary General that after reading this letter, erase mx name please. [Signed: Illegible, 3 August 196(0]

Also, Mr Sam Nujoma, at the 154'" meeting of the UN General Assembly Committee on South West Africa, 11 August 1960, made the following statement: )n the 17 June 1960, lr Eliaser 'lhhadclcni, a member of the National Executiv C Committee of the South \Vest Africa lPcoplc's ()rganisation, was arrested and taken into exile at a place located bct\\ ccu ( )ka\an,.u and Ox amlboland near the border of Angola and South \Vest Africa \%ith a bucket of \\atcr and a small amount of food. Another letter of petition to the UN Secretary General on the Tuhadeleni arrest and deportation came from Mr S. Mifima, Chairman of SWAPO in Cape Town, dated 30 August 1960, in which he stated: If the I NO abandons us we \ ill of course carry on our struggle with other means and seek new help from anvx\ here prepared to free us from this deadly apartheid oppression . From Ox amboland they have banished ir Eliezer Noah and MIr Tuhadeleni to a lonely spot betw\een Ovamboland and Oka\ ango reserk c known as a political prison camp: nobody is allowed to scc them, not even their \\ ixcs and children.' Yet another letter of petition read as follows: a month before NIr )c \Wet Ncl could xisit South WVest Africa, Nehemia and other headmen in O\ amboland were \warned by government officials that a big boss was due to visit them and that the\, must not show any opposition to his visit because he \\as very dangerous and that if they happened to show opposition to this \ isit or deliver unfaxourable speeches, they might land themselvcs into an unfavourable situation .... These \\ arnings Nw ere succeeded by the arrest of the strong man of the South \Vest Africa People's Organisation in Ovamboland Mr Elieser [sic] 'lhhadeleni. He x\ as handcuffed and sent to a remote place in the extreme north of Ovamboland just near the border and is being kept there tinder arrest. [Nir Simon Shix ute, Acting Secretary General of S\WAPO, 16 September 1960] Is Kaxumba Dead? While many patriotic Namibians tried by various means to save Tuhadeleni's life, he too was battling for his freedom. Meme Priskila narrated: It was the fifth month and still no official communication from Ohangwena at least to tell us \\,here Kaxumha was. One day, at about midday, a policeman arrived at our home and said to us. 'I am looking for Nli 'Ihhadcleni. \\c just received information at Ohangwena that he disappeared from Ehafo \\ here he was kept. I came to check if he has come home.' This information got me very worried about all sorts of possibilities of what might have happened. \c found it impossiblc to believe that officials of the colonial administration would come to our home to look for a person they had arrested right in front of our whole household. They wxere the most unreliable persons ever known to me. So., it x\ as difficult for me to know whether they \% cre telling the truth or were using this is a trick to cover their dirty deeds. \Ve c mid offer no help to the policeman, as I had last seen mx husband when Commissioner KxumIba kaNd,,la, rcalhnamc Strxdom drove a\\ ay with him from Ohang\\ena. I wvas not told w'here they were taking i \,),ah I-I h-,.r Tu hadcIn, Kaxumba. I \\as puzzled and worried. \What if something had happened to Kaxumba and The , ritcer pCrhlps did ni, coming here xxas just looking for a \x ay to blame somebody. I could not understand x hv the kno\is hr uid assumed OICNC policc were torturing my nerves. NCrC (Ml, dfIiiCrCn persomn,

That night, we were in the first round af our sleep, when a \ aicc called out at the main entrance of our homestead, ".llatoke,-aa mne [Good evening, anvbdv homir' The elderly lady, who lived with us at the time, jumrpCd out of her roam, Whispering to me: 'lriskila, wake tip, wake tip KaxuImba is here, Kaxnlba is hime.' I got up quickl s. There I saw Kaxullba. Nlv heart rejoiced. I was rclic\cd of so much pain and suffering. Norrmalitv returned to our home and this was somethin, to celebrate, )ecause for six month, since Kaxumba's arrest, there was a cloud of anxiety hanging over our house. 'is ie well, is he alive, where is he?' We asked each other day after da, week after week, month after month. Kaxumba's return w\as reallk a great relief. While the children \\ent to prepare foad far Kaxumba, we adults exchanged greetings. We informed him immediately, that a policeman had come to the house earlier in the day to look for him, and then he told us: 'On the da\ before \ esterday, [la \Wevulu told me that he had to attend a \ erN important meeting at Ohangwena. This meeting was called far all the traditional leaders in Owambo. I told him I would also like to go o o Ohangw ena, because I knew mx' case would be discussed at that meeting. Senior headman Wevul did not agree nor did he object to the idea, so I assumed silence implied consent. So, on the day they left, I followed him and his police. They rode their horses while I walked. I could not walk at the pace of the horses that were running. They left me behind, but they knew I was follo \ ing them. I arrived about three hours after them and walked straight into the tribal authority building. As I \\alked into the hall, all the headmen including Commissioner Strxdam turned their ex es on me. Without saying a word, they all stared at me suspiciously. \\'hat \\as I to do? I also gave them a good look, then I walked out. Around the yard of the tribal authority building, I noticed the guards sitting patiently waiting for their masters to finish their meeting. Headman Wcyulu's police wondered how I got to Ohangwena so fast. What happened was that, on my Way to Ohangwena, a villager near Eenhana spotted me and inv ited me for oshikundu. I accepted the offer and went in the house. As I got tip to proceed with my journey, the eldest son of the house offered to take me to Ohangwena by bicycle, as a way of showing their support for my case. This ws as an offer I could not refuse, and within three hours we \\ere at Ohangwena. I could not, h\\e\cr, inform the police abotut this, because I was not sure what they might do to the family that helped me to get to Ohangwena. The other policemen told me, that upon his arris al, senior headman \\eala told his colleagues that he allowed me to come to Ohangwena and to be present at the meeting when mx case would be heard. He got them so worried about who and how they should break such news to Mr Stry dom, and what they would do when he discovered my presence at Ohangwena. So, they decided to tell him that I had disappeared from Ehafo and had headed home. As a result, \Ir Strvdom sent his senior police to my home to repossess me. The traditional leadership of the colonial administration denied themselves their right to make a decision on a matter that concerned their subjects. I hase no idea whx they couldn't just tell lr Strydom that, in their capacity as traditional leaders, thex authorised mc to attend the hearing on my ease at Ohangwena. I began to understand wh\ Nlr Strydom and his team gave me that strange look, when I walked into his office. I wsas deeply disappointed. This was a real pity, as I also noticed, that wxhen I was at [hafo, I swas treated and lived like any other guest in the senior headman's house, and on various occasions., I discussed on a one-to-one-basis, a number of political problems facing our troubled country with the senior headman. He warned me to be careful not to show his support to anyone, as he was also not

'lure \ hcthcr Mlr Strdom \\as monitoring him. A few of the traditional leaders, sympathetic to our ideas of freedom and independence, complained to us, that Native Commissioner Str doim made dccisions on his own, and their meeting was only a platform for information. We ad\ ised them to openly tell \lr Strydorm that they objected to his administrative style of forcing his dccisions upon them, and to tell him why they differed. As time \cnt on, we rcaliscd that our tradional leaders could not giv e us the support \\c needed, and went along \\ ith the decisims of the cohmial administration. As I sat outside the tribal athority building at Ohangwena, while the traditional leaders attended their meeting, I started thinking. Ai, the policemen sent to m\ house to look for me, what does this mean? \What am I doing at Ohangwena if, according to the authorities, I am supposed to have been at home? At that moment, I decided to return home. I went back into the meeting hall, and in front of all of them, I announced that I \\as going home, and I left. I am glad to be hack home.' Kaxumba's return \\as a great relief to us after so many months of uncertainty. \Vc were glad that the police did not return to rearrest my husband. So, he continued \ith his political work. Kaxumba Returns and SWAPO Meetings Resume Tate Helao Shityuwete recalled: Kaxumba was an amazingly brave person; he \\as arrested for holding public meetings, but as soon as he was released, he continued calling public meetings again. Some people advised him that he should change his strategy, by holding his meetings in secret. That way, the police would not hear about them, and no one would be arrested, but Kaxumba insisted that: 'One cannot hold public meetings in secrecy, they must be held publicly; everyone is free to come and listen and be listened to. We have nothing to hide and we are fighting for a just cause. Kaxumba continued his political work, although under very difficult circumstances, with harassment from the police. On 17 April 1961, Chief Hosea Kutako and Chief Samuel Witbooi, wrote in a joint letter of petition to the United Nations Secretary General that: On 31st Nlarch 1961, there was a tribal meeting in Ovamboland [sic] at Oukwanvama, under the auspices of the South West Africa People's Organisation (SWAPO). The Native Commissioner at Oukwanyama appeared at the meeting without being invited and told the meeting to disperse. The people refused to disperse. Later two Advisory Board men [Africans] appeared there and joined the Native Commissioner. The Chairman, a M\ir Eliezer Isic] lihadeleni, pleaded that they should leave the meeting in peace and go awa. On his request, the (ommissioner rcluctanth' left the meeting, and immediately after his departure police armed \ ith sub-machine guns appeared on the scene and manhandled the people at the gathering. There were no shootings. Kaxumba continued under the banner of the struggle, until his home became almost like an office, a meeting place, and a transit for people going to and occasionally returning from exile. This resulted in police surveillance of his house, threats and more arrests.

My Father and His Politics Kaxumba's son Noah and daughter Ndahambelela too had recollections about their father. Noah recalled: As a Nioung boy', I saw different people, adults, holding meetings in our home and sometimes tinder our \larula tree. As a child, I was not expected to attend meetings \\ith adults, but to help our mother to prepare food for the people that came to the meetings, and to help her serv e them. We did not know for what reason people came, what these meetings were all about, and what the\ discussed. I remember round about 1962, when a big meeting was held at our house and many people from ()kalongo and Ondonga attended, some of them spent two nights at our home, because of long distances the\ had to travel. I found out about I)addy's politics when he was in jail in 1962. There was a big meeting at Omafo, and many students from the Odibo Secondary School went to it, but I did not go and couldn't understand why I didn't. Many of the students that went to this meeting came running back about four hours after they had left. There was a big bang on my door and it swung open. I jumped tip. There I saw my colleagues who had gone to the meeting, each trying to speak to me at the same time. They said: 'If your father is not dead, he is badly injured. He was addressing the meeting at Omafo, when the police suddenly arrived. They attacked him with knopkerries [knobbed sticks], and blood sprinkled out of his head. ie was bleeding and they continued beating him up. We ran away from the scene, while the police assaulted him. We are ver. sorry to bring you such news.' So, I went to look for my father. I went to the scene where the meeting was held and did not find a single soul. I saw some drops of blood on the ground, but nothing else. People in the nearby homes told me that 'he is probably at Engela hospital'. I went to Engela and I was told that mv father had not been there, they had not seen him, and they had not admitted anyone beaten up by the police. I was further directed to check at Ohangwena police station, as the police might still be keeping him. As a man, I had to be strong, but I felt frightened by the possibility of my father being dead. So, I walked to Ohangwena, fighting a\ay the thought that my father could be dead. 1 found him at Ohangwena still bleeding from the head, his clothes bathed in sand and blood, and looking really disfigured by punches from the police. This was quite a scary sight of mx father. I felt the pain cutting through my heart and I wanted to cry. lie said to me, 'Noah, I am OK, I will be fine, but you must now go home and tell \'Otr mother where I am'. So, I went home and told my mother everything. She listened to c\ cryx word and in return she said: 'Thank you m1y son, you must now have something to eat and return to Odibo to school. Your father is a strong man, he \N ill be fine.' I returned to school, but Was troubled by this experience. Ndahambelela had this to say: As a small child, I remember that white soldiers started coming to our home cvcr Saturday. They would core into the house and start to search in every corner of our house. The puppets brought them to our home. We, the children, knew this, because when they came during the daytime, we were the first people to notice them. We alw ays played outside the homestead in the field, and often saw them coming from a distance. Sometimes we ran quickly into the house to alert our parents, but in most cases xx e noticed them too late to do anything. In this case, we often ignored their presence and continued playing as if wc had not noticed them.

.\, I , , Pi I' i,i, ' ! They would come to us and often asked where our parents were, and whether our father was going to a meeting. We would tell them that we did not know. They gave us sweets or tinned food or sugar. \Ve took everything they gave us, but we never ate their food, we first showed it to our parents. When they came into our home, they went in every room. They wanted to turn our household upside down. They searched everywhere and in everything, wxithout any respect for our belongings. They did not even tell my parents what the\, were searching for. This went on for some time, and suddenly the situation changed for the worse. They started coming and taking my father away with them, pushing him around and manhandling him so badly in our presence. They were so disrespectful towards our parent, and walked around our home as if they owned it. \e were shocked and feared for our father's life, but we could not stop these white men from taking him away. They were probably looking for my father's papers, but my father had built a special place in the house where he kept his important documents. 'hey came and searched the whole house, but they found nothing, and on Sunday when we \\,ere ready to go to the public meetings, we got our SWVAPO flags from on/ia/a [a biding place], put them on, and off we went. \'cry often, my father was arrested while addressing public meetings. Sometimes he went to meetings far from home, and days would pass without him returning. \e assumed he was in prison. Nli mother would go around looking for my father at all the nearest police stations. \\c, the children, did not really understand what was going on at that time. Although we knew that our father held meetings with the people to talk about politics, and spent long hours talking about the economics of the land, the cattle post, the grazing, hunting, and gathering land, and the contract labour system. It was later, when our father became a wanted person by the police, that \\ e begun to understand more about our father's political career.

At home, we did not really understand I)ad, or what he was fighting for. \\'e onl heard peopie in the community say ing: 'We N\ent to listen to ',1t1/ Eliaser talking about politics.' Or: 'Next week 7Tt, Eliaser will he goling to such and such village to talk politics.' \'e did not understand what politics was. The question of politics became somewhat clearer when the colonial government and the traditional authorities started coming to our home to arrest m\ father. By then, I thought politics must be something dangerous or else N\ h would a person be arrested for talking politics? One day. several men came to our home and had a long meeting with my father. I heard them talking about cattle, land, hunting, gathering, and the contract labour system. They also planned to have a meeting at kngela the next day, where they woo Id be discussing these matters. The next day, Dad set off to Engela for his meetings, but not very long after he had gone, people rushed into our home to report, that '1;/t Eliascr was arrested b\ the police for talking politics.' I developed an impression that the contract labour system, the communal land for cattle grazing, gathering, and hunting implied politics, because at that time, this was what he spoke about at meetings. I had just started assuming that I understood politics, \when people started talking about the OPO meetings. These meetings were very popular, and almost ex eryone in the community spoke endlessly about them, and many of them took place at the onaiandi 'aKaixuma [Kaxumba's Jackelberry tree], inside the church cornpound. One Sunda., a white man came to otir congregation. He came to talk about the government plans to take over all the schools in Owambo. All the schools would become government owned and funded, and parents would no longer be required to pay school fees, boy exercise books, pens or pencils. This news made the people of Endola very happy. They praised their visitor for bringing them such good news. :\ll of a sudden, my father stepped from his scat, walked towards the white man and said: 'Whx have you come here to tell us nonsense? You know that what you are telling these people here is untrue. If you do not have an honest and genuine message for us just leave, go now, go away from here. Leave this church immediately.' The white man got the message and left the church with his mouth wide open. The whole congregation was shocked by Dad's sudden behaviour. 'Oh, how disrespectful', they said. Even the priest \\as taken by surprise at this move and had no xwords to say. \Iv father was asked by the congregation to explain what had got into him, whx and ho\ he could chase Christ out of the church? '\What kind of person are x ou to chase ( hristus out the church?' The atmosphere \\ as tense; most worshippers left the church to join the \\'hite man outside. Endola congregation condemned mx father's action in the strongest terms possible. The white man was convinced to return to the church and continue with his speech, while mx father was isolated and eventually went home. Without understanding what was reallx going on, I wsalked home with him. After the mass, some people came to talk to him about what had happened in the church, but he asked them to leave. The following Sunday, two priests from Engcla visited Endola congregation. Thex came to condemn my father's action. 'In this Endola congregation, there arc people \\ ho arc antiChrist. Last week alone, Christ was chased Out of this church by Endula's \ntichrist. W\ e wish to ban Kaxumba from entering this church, as well as other churches at Engela and Odibo, because he had the audacity to chase a white man out of the church.' People sat (luictly. MIy father's outspokenness constrained his Sunday meetings. He used tom hold his meetings every Sunday after the mass tinder a big tree in the churchyard called omarcndi X'aKaxum/A. He was now barred from entering the churches at Endola, Engela, and Oclibo. Despite this, h cent to church, Nsaitcd under his tree for people to come out of the church. People came jtt of the Sunday mass and went to Kaxumba's tree for meetings. A tc\\ \\ceks later, the schools started. Many parents assumed that the schooling would be free. 'l'hc were surprised that they had to continue to pay for their children's school fees, despite the white man's message that there would be no more school fees. The people, who \\ere calling m father Antichrist, came to him to complain about school fees. 'Ve were told that there s\ill be no more school fees and that the government will take care of all the fees, no\\ the school has reopened and w\ e are asked to pay, where should we find the money?' My father continued his politics, insisting that we should join hands and fight against colonial education. People were again supporting his politics, and there were a number of people who offered their houses to host any activities in fasour of the resistance movement. In the beginning, I did not attend the meetings. I was also aware that sometimes the police disrupted the meetings and people dispersed quickly and ran to their homes. If the police caught you, they could arrest you or take you to Ohangwena to be beaten on the buttocks in public. The politics of OPO was not something we openly discussed at home, except that one day, when the police came to our home to arrest my father, I heard them saying that 'we are arresting you for speaking about OPO at a public meeting.' Again, I started understanding that OPO and politics were dangerous to talk about, and that you could end up being arrested. Then came the story about Tanganyika.'We are going to 'anganyika, Tanganyika is free. We must be free too.' \We overheard the men discussing with my father and planning their travel to Tanganyika. \'e did not bother much and went on with our lives, but men kept on coming to look for my father, and we always heard them discussing about Tanganyika and suddenly SWAPO. We, the children, did n

III Namibia, the International Community, and the Military Option The Visit by UN Envoy Victorio Carpio A veteran of the Namibian liberation struggle, Tate Helao Shityuwete, vividly remembered the visit of the United Nations envoy Mr Victorio Carpio. In May 1%2, the ['N sent an envoy to Namibia, by the name of Nir Victorio Carpio, to investigate whether Namibians were ready for independence. The news about the [IN envoy's coming was joyfully received by many Namibians. 'Fhey thought that the [IN was taking a sympathetic ear to the Namibian problem, and that the outcome of its envoy's visit would help us gain independence. 'I'he South African Government did not make any public announcement about the coming of the I IN envoy. We heard it from our comrades in Windhoek, who had read about it in the newspapers from South Africa, so that information came to us in bits and pieces. But as soon as Kaxumba and other SWAPO leaders heard that Carpio was coming, they organised a delegation to meet with him. I was also part of this delegation. While we prepared our delegation, we heard that the UN envoy was only coming to Windhoek, and we in Owambo needed a travel permit to Windhoek, and an authorisation to have an audience with Nir Carpio, and special permission for Kaxumba and 'I'i o ya'lbivo was also needed, because they were banned from entering the south. We applied for permission from the colonial administration to travel to Windhoek in order to have an audience with \Ir Carpio. Our application was denied. 'The officials of the colonial administration told us that Nir Carpio was not prepared to meet with Africans, and that the [IN had only given him the mandate to talk to the South African administration officials and not to the local people. \V wecrc indeed vcry disappointed. But we also heard from our colleagues in Windhoek, \\ho read the newspapers, that Nlr Carpio was coming to Ondangwa and Oshakati, and they ga\e us the dates on which he was coming. \Ve again re(Liested an audience with Mr Carpio, and our request was again denied. Next, wc mobilised a big demonstration in Ondangwa in protest against the [IN cnvoy's position not to talk to the Namibian people. '[his demonstration was organised under very difficult circumstances, because the South African authorities hired a team of experts and deployed them to Ondangw a and Oshakati to mobilisc people not to participate in the demonstration. Kaxumba worked hard to convince our people not to listen to those who were telling them to boycott the demonstration. There was a lot of confuIsion. Information reached us that the South African officials planned to take the I.N envoy to Okatana in order to show him how they brought salvation to the so- called heathens. Kaxumba and some other comrades stepped tip another demonstration at Okatana. Bishop Dr Leonard Auala of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Namibia [ELCIN] also travelled to Okatana Church Mission in support of our effort. When the South Africans arrived at the church mission with the [IN cns \, Bishop l)r Auala expressed his disappointment with the I N cn\ \'s refusal to meet the local people. Suddcnl, there \\as a change of plans and a meeting was scheduled at Ondangwa for Mr ( arpio to icct \ith our representati cs. It was, howev er, made clear that Mr Carpio was not prepared to talk to a large group of people. So, \\ c selected six delegates to express our problems aind represent our interest in the talks. I was nominated to join Kaxu~mba, Simon Kaukung\\ a, Andimba 'Ibi\ o vS lbi\ o, and others at the talks with Mr (arpio. The meeting w as attended by lr Carpio and his mwo colleagues, four South African representatives, N\r Schimming, as translator, and the six of us. \t this meeting, our delegation, led 1w 7t vaToivo, made it \ cry clear to \Ir Carpio that Nam ibians were read\ for independence, and that our people wanted to know the details of the [IN plans for Namibia's independence. \\c highly expected the I'N to support us, and ssere counting oi it to supplement our efforts to gain our freedom and independence. The [IN envoy did not speak much and did not answer any (luestions during the meeting. Even when he was askedl questions about his mission to Namibia, he could not provide an, ans\ers. He only promised to discuss our request with the South African colonial officials. We were shocked to hear the UN cns oy suggesting discussing our concerns with our colonisors, but not with the I.N that had sent him to Namibia. '[he results of our meeting with NIr Carpio were very disappointing, because we expected him to at least tell us about his mission to Namibia, and to tell us how the Namibian question was being taken ip at the [TN. lie left us \\ith an impression that he had more faith in the apartheid government than the UN, because whatever questions we asked, his answers were: 'I will discuss it with the South African Government'. The I'N envo could not give us any concrete resolution, promise, or hope, for us to report back to our people who chose us to attend the meeting on their behalf. We provided our names and addresses to Mir Carpio so that he could send us feedback on issues raised during the meeting. He returned to the LIN and we did not hear a word from him. After he returned to the [IN, our political and social situation worsened as the South African Governmnent then increased its repressive measures against our people. Tuhadeleni was sery religious, he had always challenged us to have patience and not to resort to militarv means. He said our case was in the good hands of the UN, and that the whole world knew that Namibia was not part of South Africa. After this meeting, Tuhadeleni started to realise that the answer for the Namibian fiasco might not necessarily come from outside. Our leaders started to seriouslS consider other options of gaining freedom and independence, instead of being solely dependent on dialogue through the UN. We were never, nor are \we today, a war-lo\ ing country, and we believe, that before resorting to a military option, one must reall\ exhaust all possible avenues for negotiations. There were a number of frustrations and disappointments that needed to be clearly understood, before wc got to the military solution. Our land was taken both to the north [the okau/ui] and south [Namutoni]. An apartheid system with pass laws and the contract labour system was imposed on us. \We were disinherited from both our land and our rights as human beings by the South African Government. In this apartheid system, whites were the masters and we blacks the servants. Our movements to an\ place outside Owambo were controlled by a degrading pass law system, and we were further exploited, as a cheap source of labour, to further an economic system that s\ as com- pletely owned and controlled by \\ hites. \\c were colonised and treated as slas es in our own country. 1'he apartheid South African ((s ernment refused to talk to us or to listen to our problems because they did not discuss with slaves. How did the whole thing bcgin? The International Court of Justice I discussed the involvement of the UN and the International Court of Justice (ICJ) in the resolution of the Namibian political crisis with Tate Mzee Simon Kaukungwa, Andimba Toivo yaloivo, and Helao Shityuwete. These discussions were held on separate occasions and backed by archival sources to, for example, check the accuracy of dates and the exact wording of the decisions taken at the time. The summary of our discussions is as follows. It all started in 1915 when, as part of a general campaign against Germany in the First World War, a force from South Africa of 43.000 white men invaded Namibia to chase the Germans out. Namibians were tired of being colonised, so, many welcomed the invasion. Some of the people even volunteered to join the invaders, hoping that they had come to set them free. After the German defeat, their country was placed under a mandate to the British Crown on 17 December 1920, as provided for in Article 22 of the League of Nations Agreement. His British Majesty appointed the government of the Union of South Africa as mandatory 'to promote to the utmost, the material and moral well-being and the social progress of the inhabitants of the territory" on behalf of Britain. South Africa was under obligation to submit an annual report to the Council of the League of Nations. In 1945, the League of Nations was replaced by the United Nations. The UN Charter made provision for a trusteeship system to deal with the former mandated territories, the idea being to bring independence to these non- selfgoverning territories. In 1946, South Africa proposed to the UN that South West Africa be incorporated into South Africa, but the UN denied this request. In 1949 however, white settlers in Namibia elected ten representatives to the South African House of Assembly. From then onwards, South Africa refused to submit further annual reports to the UN, maintaining that the mandate and all the duties incurred under it had lapsed with the dissolution of the League of Nations. The UN General Assembly sought legal opinion from the ICJ, and the Court unanimously held that the mandate was still in force. Also in 1949, South Africa began introducing apartheid as its official policy in Namibia, just like it did in South Africa. Namibia became like a fifth province of South Africa. In 1959/1960, the Windhoek Municipality, following the South African policies of territorial segregation, instructed the police to remove by force all the blacks from their homes in the Old Location. The bulldozers came to dismantle their homes and forced them into trucks that would ferry them to the newly established Katutura, the most inhabited place in Windhoek at the time. It was not explained to the people why they had to move. So, there was resistance. The people refused to move and tried to stop the bulldozers from dismantling their homes. The apartheid government did not discuss with Africans, they expected that their only role was to obey white rule. They instructed the police to shoot at anyone attempting to put up any resistance and twelve people were shot dead in December 1959, while several were injured. As the blacks were removed to Katutura, new homes for white settlers were being erected, although there was talk that the ground in the Old Location would have to be kept empty for a few years to get disinfected. They felt betrayed, because when South Africa was fighting to overthrow the Germans, it promised to 1, liberate them. After taking over, it failed to set them free, and instead decided to impose its colonial i Arhic 22,f the League oppressive system on them. They were angry and disappointed. How could the police kill civilians who of Nati,,ns Cenant. had no means of defending themselves? They could not find reasons as to why the police shot dead their people, and forcefully removed the survivors from their homes to dump them in Katutura, totally suppressing any expression. This was when Kaxumba started to mobilise the people to protest against these removals, and to be in solidarity with their brothers and sisters murdered in Windhoek. They protested against any such killings of innocent civilians who were unarmed, the annexation as a fifth province of South Africa, and against the apartheid laws. Liberia and Ethiopia, who were the only independent African countries at the time, started to petition at the UN on their behalf. The argument brought forward by Ethiopia and Liberia was that South Africa had violated the 1920 mandate by introducing the policy of apartheid, and by having sought substantially to change the terms of the mandate without the U N's consent. The Namibian case was then referred to the International Court of Justice. On 18 July 1966, after almost six years of waiting and hoping, the ICJ delivered its judgement. The Court, comprising 14 judges divided equally 50:50, and the Australian President of the Court, Sir Percy Spender, decided the matter in terms of Article 55 (2) of the ICJ Statute. Spender used his casting vote to rule the case in favour of the apartheid South African Government. It was indeed very disappointing to realise that the World's highest judicial body had given Namibia away to apartheid South Africa. It really felt as if the Court did not care about the suffering under the apartheid regime. One can just imagine how Namibians felt about the betrayal of their trust and hope that they had in the UN. They realised the hard way, that they would never gain their independence through international mediation only, they could only gain their freedom by fighting for it. Even their leaders, who were urging them not to resort to a military solution, had nothing else to say. So, they launched the liberation struggle. The other painful thing was that they lived in the villages where there were no newspapers. They were not aware of the Court's proceedings, unless they heard information from those who had heard from someone who had read the newspapers in South Africa. Namibians later heard that the Court alleged that witnesses from Namibia did not want to come forward to give evidence in court of the atrocities. How could they know that their testimonies were needed in court? They were not invited to these court hearings, as a matter of fact, they only heard of the judgements from their comrades in exile through letters. They were not told officially. They sent their petitions to the UN with their addresses on them, so why didn't the UN write back to invite them to give testimony? South Af ica sent its witnesses, because it was represented at the Court, it had access to newspapers, and court proceedings, it had money to hire lawyers and could afford the means to travel. Namibians just felt the world was unfair. At the beginning, it was not everyone who supported the military solution. It was obvious that many Namibians were terrified to think about it. They did not know how they were going to fight a military giant, South Africa. They wondered where they would get guns and military training. It was more convincing to think that Namibia was a UN mandate and that the UN would free them. However, after various failed efforts through the UN to resolve the Namibian colonial predicament, and the contentious visit of the UN envoy Mr Carpio, they began to understand and see more clearly the reasons why a military solution was necessary. Even Kaxumba, who was a strongly religious person, said that if they did not speak the language which South Africa could understand, there was no way that South Africa would listen to their demands for independence. Going Into Exile Helao Shityuwete, one of the first PLAN (People's Liberation Army of Namibia) fighters to return to Namibia, said:

A campaign was launched to cncourage \anibians, especially ()() members, to go into exile. mhtc Kaxuriba was the leader of the committee that recruited people to cross the border into exile in order to: 1. Solicit arms and acquire military training, 2. Get \amiians better education and prepare them for independence, 3. Launch a diplomatic campaign throughout the international comm Onit\ in support of the N amibian anti-colonial resistance struggle through dialogue as well as in the form of an armed struggle. " e do not get a kwopk'rric and start hitting back, South Africa will continue to suppress, massacre our people and ignore onr demands no matter how loud we speak. If wc start inflicting the same pain it is causing us, it may be forced to agree to meet uis at the negotiating table to discuss and resolve the colonial burden,' KaxLba adv ised. We opted for an armed liberation struggle in addition to negotiations mediated through the ('\. Before an armed struggle was launched, we started a political campaign. We started with a few people mapping out the strategy for the campaign, and later on campaigned for popular support and understanding. Some of our people left the country and went into exile to receive military training. We made enormous progress and received a lot of information regarding the liberation struggle from other countries such as Tanzania, Ethiopia, Ghana, and Eg pt. This wvas when Kaxumba campaigned vigorously to get community support and understanding for the struggle for independence. At the beginning, our priests gas e us the opportunity to announce that after the Sunday mass there w ould be a meeting at Omamw'andi to be addresscd by lite Eliaser Tuhadeleni. This was \here \we started political mobilisation and held our meetings every Sunday after the church service. At Endola, there was a tree called onwawwnli wrvaKasum/hl where we met to discuss our political plans. Kaxtimba mnbilised the conmunity to understand what S\\APO \was. wh\ it \\-as formed, and \\hat it stood for. The Endola congregation became very popular. Many people came to church to eventually attend Kaxumba's meetings because these meetings were also a platform for them to share their pains with one another. People not belonging to the Endola congregation also joined our meetings and copied our style to have meetings in their communities after church on Sunday. These plans and ideas went from moith to mouth and spread \crs quickly. Mlineworkers, who returned from contract work, immediately stipported these ideas. The people in the \arious communities started to organise thcmselves to raise awarcncss, solicit support for the struggle, and form SW\AP() structures at communit\ level. The colonial authority detected our movements and they were not happy with this political development. They responded by applying more repressive measures to counteract our efforts towards the liberation struggle. Kaxumba continued organising rallies and meetings, but the South African Security Police disrupted them and arrested man\ of our supporters and leaders. Our people were badlh beaten while in police custody and were jailed \without trial. Kaumnha \was humiliated b\ the I'N ens us's visit because he used to tell young people espcciall\ that the I IN would lead us to our independence. He said we must exercise patience and gi\c a chance to the IN to resolve our independence struggle. But, after the meeting with the U N envoy, he could no more insist on soft methods as the only answer or means to gaining our independence. It avas clear, the only option was to fight fire with fire instead of suffering in silence.

We learned from mor leaders who had left the country and gone into exile, that it was not only the people of northern Namibia \who suffered colonial oppression but the whole of the .\frican continent, and many of the countries fought and won their independence. It was advisable to form one national organisation in order to fight for our whole country's independe nce. Nlan ofoiir leaders fled the country to go into exile. The idea of going into exile was mainly to expose to the [;N the atrocities committed by South Africa against Namibians, and to establish a platform to organise ourselves socially and politically without fear of intimidation. People also began to consider the pros and cons of a military option, which was very popular, especially with young people. At the public meetings that I attended, Kaxumba always advised us that, if we were committed to an armed struggle to liberate our country, then we had to be prepared to fight and must fight hard. The enemy m List be made to feel and realise that wc are serious. And, even the I N might speed up the negotiations on the Namibian conflict, if by our military activities, \e made them see and realise that we had launched an armed struggle. He strongly emphasised that \we must not give up the dialogue, but we at the same time must also use a knopkeirie and use it efficiently. However, on 27 October 1966, the ('N General Assembly in its Resolution 2145 resohed to terminate the South African Mandate in Namibia b a vote of 114 to 2 [Portugal and South Africa], with three states abstaining [Malawm i, France, and the United Kingdom], and two absent [Botswana and Lesotho]. Kaxumba was the leader of the committee that recruited people to cross the country to go into exile, get military training, and rettirn to Namibia to launch the liberation war against apartheid. In 1960, Kaxumba and Julius Nakale took Jacob Kuhangwa and me to Ondjiva by foot. The journey from Namibia was started at sunset, so that by sunrise we were alread, in Ondjix a. This was done in order to ax oid being seen by the police and possibly end up being arrested. Kaxumba was to oversee that the group left Ondjiva without any problems, while Julius Nakale was our guide, because he knew Angola well and spoke Portuguese. It was agreed that Julius would take us tip to Lobito and assist us to get a ship that would take us to Dar-es-Salaam or Cairo. This journey w as carefully planned to avoid a police trap. Kuhangwa and Kaxumba were wanted persons in Namibia, and we were concerned that their photographs might have been passed on to the English Government in Botswana, and the Portuguese Government in Angola for tracking them down. These were two countries through which many Namibians escaped apartheid to go into exile. There was a concern that if Kuhangwa and Kaxumba went to the police station at Ondjiva to ask for our obi/hete [travel documents], the Portuguese Police might recognize their faces, arrest them, and hand them over to the South African Government in Namibia. We therefore made a plan that Julius and I would go to the police station to apply for visas, whilst Kaxumba and Kuhangwa waited elsewhere for us. We were in the police station waiting for our obi/hete, when Julius heard the local people talking about two men being arrested and receiving some hiding from the chief of police. He whispered to me what the local people \\ ere saying and wve became so worried that these two men could be our comrades. \Ve, ne\ erthelcss, waited patiently until our visa applications x\ ere processed. As soon as we got our visas, we rushed out of the police station without much delax. We needed to find out w'here our colleagues were. To our dismay, we just stepped out of the police station and saw Kuhangw a and Kaxumba being beaten up with ./iam/oks [w hips] by the Portuguese police chief while the local people, who were attracted to the scene, shouted to them to 'take off your hats'. Julius realised that our comrades did not understand Portuguese, soi he shouted in ()sh iwambo, 'K/'i ko omam/rne 1 komnit2ee z/unehu" [Take off your hats, gentlemen. As soon as they took off their hats and apologised, the beating stopped. The local people told us that no one \\as allowed to wcar a hat in the presence of the police commander, or when he wvas within the \ icinit\. lhe chief of police warned them to behave properly next time and we all left the scene. The three of uis continued our journey to ILobito, while Kaxumlba returned to Namibia that evening. We got stuck in Lobito when we realised that our trip was too expensis e, and \c did not has e the money that was needed to cover our trip. \W \ were unable to continue our journey. We \\rote to the SWAPM office in Windhoek to send us some money. \Vc receised the money, but it was onIv enough for one person's journey. Wc agreed that Kuhangwa, who w\as a wanted man in Namibia, should continue with the journey, while I returned home with Julius. Man\ of the people who went into exile during the 1960s went through the house of i/ite Tuhadeleni. Some stayed at his house while making preparations for the journey. 'ILihadeleni used his own resources, food, money, bicycle, suitcase to assist people going into exile. He would leave his household work or whatever he was doing to attend to the political work. Many Namibians who went into exile during the 1960s passed through the Tuhadeleni's home for information, money, or their last meal before the journey. Kaxumba Receives the First PLAN Combatants The commander of the first group of SWAPO combatants to return to Namibia, Commander John Otto Nankudhu said: On 4 March 1965, we were given a mandate to leave Tanzania for Namibia. Our mission was to set up military training facilities and to start political and military training inside Namibia. There wvas no car to drive uis to Namibia. We had to face the journey on foot from Tanzania to Namibia and this took us six months of walking. The SW\APO leadership in Ianzania appointed me as the commander of the group, and charged me with the responsibility to see to it that everyone of us arrived safely in Namibia. We were gis en tinned food, biscuits, and a bit of money to buy food or hitchhike where and when possible. \We were determined to return. Wc were dedicated to the struggle for freedom and independence. Our group consisted of: John Otto Nankudhu, Commander Simeon [Kambo] Shixungileni, Second-in-Clommand Hangula Kavela Shoonyeka Patrick [Lungadal lyambo Victory Nleeshaxa, and Nelson Kavela Our leadership in Tanzania told us to report to Die Eliaser Tuhadeleni at Endola upon our arrival in Namibia. We were the first SWAPO soldiers trained abroad who returned to Namibia in order to mobilise the population for the armed liberation struggle. On 17 August

1905 w% e arrix cd. 'Iuhadcleni's homestead became our home until %larch 1966, N% hen we MO ed on to construct otr inilitary canip. Tuhadeleni's children, Ndahambelela and Noah, narrated their first encounter with the combatants. Ndahambelela, his daughter, said: )ne aftcrno o in \iiist 1965, our parents told us that they would be away from home the next morning, and that there were gucsts coming to our home. lN parents \were concerned that the guests might arri\c before they returned. They therefore asked us to welcome them. As children, we did not ask our parents many qluestions, we normally did what was required if us. So, \\ ithout us asking who the guests were, we nodded our heads in agreement. When morning came, Mlmmy and l)addy were gone. We went on \with our normal at\ix ities. I )uring the afternoon, we went to play outside in the field. Suddenly wc saw a group of men walking towards our homestead. They were huge and tall. They were riding bicycles. We saw them just in good time to hide and observe them. They rode their bicycles to the entrance of our home and walked right into our home, pulling their bicycles along. We watched in amazement and wondered who these rnen were, because we had never seen them before. Although our home was xisited b\ lots of people, young and old, and although it sometimes felt as if our home was a public place \\here cveryone wxas welcomed, wve had never seen these men. We were afraid to go in the house, or even near to it. We remained in hiding and waited impatiently for our parents to return. Just before sunset our parents returned. We ran to them and gave them a full briefing. Thex xw'ere glad to hear that the \ isitors had arrived, but they would not explain to us who they were and where they had come from. We were still puzzled and fearful. Days passed by and the \ isitors \ere still around. We\ were not told who these people were, why they wx ere in our home, for \\ hat purpose they came, and whv thex' xx ere al\ avs in the house and never went out like most adults did. They never went out to draw water. collect firewood, mend the fence, or talk to the neighboturs. There xx ere six of them. l'hev staved in our home for about eight months, without us children kno\\ ing or understanding wvho they reall\ erc, \\lay they were in our home, where they had come from, and x\,here they xw'ere going. Many members of the communit' xvere also not aware of the presence Of our visitors. A few trusted persons knew of their presence through their involvement in the liberation struggle, or xvere trusted xith the information with a viexx to assist them in terms of food, clothing, and other material needs. While these men xxere in our home Our eating schedule wx as adjusted. Everyday just before sunset we already ate supper. In the exenings. our visitors taught us many songs. They knew lots of songs, nice songs, lively songs that convexed liberation messages. Songs that they taught uIs included: V , 'aktai,' I, I sixx combatants fighting ,hl/ h//i ,li Olel cc Because this land is theirs *4'./uiaa 'I/c//,Y \ 1x pcM peple Ih-rus: \'ll I//O, li ii'a I(h orus: S\.\P() stands firm I li /,.,,kik(i Well prepared \u/./A /wl'/q/)i The tilonial burden Sll o, Ih d,/,,, SW\PO L iUshCd it hi'" oIZa M i a I/aa lul/ina \\c \\Crc bcmcn ir up pain iinliutcd II, .Wil'iw/ i/m( l.liiHi 'lorttr I rediicd w Iith Clectric shocks ,Xia",,n, //au/.,' \ Is pc, p1l1c (h irus (,htrus /' " ,k.a ,/fl, Z 1X'", , i, i ,1 \\c ,irc dhe combIatants o t \ ujouia 'In/ui Z,'l,/ ,w/akarn/a Pculp lc (t Kasala's b atallion :horus. ( l-1ru . Our singing would go on and on, and when wc sang just about enough to have our throats really warmed up. we wsere told to go to bed. As soon as we had gone, the whole household fell into a deep silence. Our parents and visitors wcnt into a s cry softly toned discussion, speaking with a \crs low voice. I cannot remember seeing these men sleeping. When we woke up in the morning we found they were already up, and when we went to bed, they were still sitting and talking. I often wondered what they discussed. Our visitors staved at our home for about six months or so when people started noticing them and wondering who they were. The children from the neighbourhood and at school often asked us. "Ve hear there are fiifii men, living at youtr home. We hear these men have been cooked in big pots in 'langanyika and that this cooking process gives them supernatural powers to fight anything.' We did not know how to handle these puzzling questions except that we informed our parents. Our home was like a public office or a communal meeting place. People came and went. We got so used to plenty of people coming to our home asking for our father, that even when the SVAPO combatants arrived at our home in 1965, their presence did not raise our suspicions. Although they ws ere a bit unusual, in that wc ncver heard them raising their voices. They spoke very softly; even when they laughed it \was always gently. The other difference I noticed and can still remember, was that these men did not use our blankets, they used something similar to what wc know today as sleeping bags. Noah, her brother, added: We did not know who the combatants wcre at the time they came, but we could see that they were different from other people that visited us or stayed s\ ith us. They were different, in that they always woke up \cry early in the morning and went to the western side of our farm. There I found them many times doing physical exercises. '[his was the first time I saw big men marching, drilling, and really doing some physical eercises in a \ery disciplined manner. Wi hat the hell are they doing? I wondered. I came to realise the military involvement after the Omugulu gwombashe and Oshikango attacks. Kaxumba's Homestead Is Attacked Ndahambelela recalled incidents leading to their home being attacked by the police. One day in March 1966, my father left home earl' in the morning. He went to a SWAP() meeting at Ondangwa. Very often, when my dad wsent for his meetings, he was awas for a day or two, but that day he returned home the same das. Ve were a bit surprised. He called the household together and said that, while he woas addressing the meeting at Ondangs a, a man walked up to him and asked to see him in private. He agreed to listen to the stranger and this is what he told him: 'I \as at the Oshakati police station \\ here I overheard a conversation that tomorrow morning at sunrise the SASF ISouth African Security Force] plans to invade vour homc. 'lhey rcrc informed that VoI are keeping Nery dangerous S\VAPO men at your home. They arc coming to attack and have these men arrested. I was troubled by this information and decided to bring it to \,ou, because I knew you would be at this meeting. The S.\SF has big weapons. I hope that you may be able to evacuate all the people from your house bcfore the invasion.' l'he stranger delivered his message and left, my father said. My father was left in a difficult position. Should he cut the meeting short and come home to bring us the bad news or continue the meeting and risk our lives by the surprise attack? He was in such a shock to realise the big responsibility lie had been given over the lives of the combatants, as well as all the people living in his household. He pondered whether the South Africans Would really attack his home, if they could possibly turn a household into a battlefield. He decided to cut the meeting short. He got on his bicycle and sped home. He warned us not to ignore this information. Our visitors quicklN packed their belongings and prepared themselves for the next move. We, the children, went to sleep. Our mama woke us up in the morning to start cooking so that our visitors could eat before they departed, but before we finished the cooking, mv father heard noises coming from the oshana. We all rose to pay attention. We saw soldiers, police, and dogs crossing the oshana towards our home. The oshana was full of water making it impossible for them to cross smoothly. We saw their cars parked behind the oshana. They carried guns and some military equipment that made the korokoto-korokoto noise that alerted us. Mv father did not have a gun, but he was giving instructions to our visitors to shoot the enemy, but Kite Nankudhu calmly said, they should not fire, but everyone must vacate the house. I became frightened, because this was the first time I heated Lite Nanktdhu speaking with clear authority, actually commanding us all, my father included. Our visitors listened to whatever instructions he gave and moved \ery fast. So, we all rushed out of the house to find cover in the semi-forest on the western side of our homestead. We watched from a distance how the SASF advanced towards our home and went inside from all directions. It seemed they did not know how to enter an Oshisvambo house or know there is an entrance through which people enter our home. They just broke away the fence poles and walked straight on with guns pointing forwards into an empty house. There was not a single soul at home. We could see that they were about thirty white soldiers with guns and dogs and two African men dressed differently. The dogs were let loose and sniffed around. WC could watch them walking up and down for about an hour in our home. They searched cx cryw hcrc and everything. It is difficult to establish -what they took or what thcx wcrc searching for. As soon as the\ had gone out of our home, our mama decided to return to the house, but Tt, Nankudhu stopped her. He said xxe must go in first to investigate whether the enemy had left any dangerous objects in the house. So Tae Nankudhu, Shixungileni, Lungada, and myi) father vent in. After a while, they returned saying we could go in, but warned us to be careful not to touch any strange objects. So our mama wvent in and wc followed her later. When \\c entered the house it looked strange, many of our things were turned upside down. They had opened our pots, storeroom and clothes. It xxas difficult to guess \ hat they wanted. As they searched for our visitors inside the omahangu storage baskets, claypots and an\ closed containers in our home, our property got destroyed. They broke open everything, and as for the omaha,;gu storage baskets, they simply ripped them open and poured the onlahafug/ on the ground. All this \\as done within one hor and they left. Our mama and we spent the whole day picking up our millet from the ground and putting it back into the basket after carefully separating it from the sand. This was a lot of work and we had to do it in a hurry. Our visitors did not return until late in the evening and they did not stav for long. They only ate their supper and left for 7'fle Immanuel Shifidi's house to do their planning there. We did not hear from them for days. M\ father went with them, so we \\ere left alone with Mama until two days later wNhen he returned. After this raid, our life changed. People started talking and openly asking qucstions about our visitors. Some said that Kaxumba was hosting thef/ifi boys from TIhnganyika. Others just Wondered who these s crv tall and strong men w ere, and how theN s\,ere able to speak different languages. 'hey wondered where our visitors had come from. I heard people and children saying that our visitors were cooked in large pots in Tanganyika. Just as my father and thefiifii men left our home, more police invasions followed. At one time they came by helicopter and landed on our omalaingu field where they displayed their guns and staved on. Ye fled our home and went into hiding at our neighbours. The soldiers and police remained stationed in our field and went up and down to the nearby homes, school, clinic, and church to search for our visitors and us. Our neighbours hid us well and no resident of Endola ever told the police where we were despite intimidations. Tate Kaxumba, in the only discussion I had with him, said: I received the first six S\VAPO combatants when they returned from exile in 1965. They stayed With me for about eight months. Their presence was detected and reported to the police and in March 1966, the South African Security Police [SASP] invaded my home for the first time. We survis ed the invasion, but it svas clear we had to do something and fast. We reported the matter to Herman 'loivo ya'lbivo, one of the S\VAPO leaders inside Namibia. It was agreed that the combatants must move into the jungle. While the combatants were at my home, we made a plan to move to the forest around the Outjo area, where we would construct our military camp. After the raid on my house, wc seriously considered implementing the Outjo plan. This plan seemed to have leaked out to the SAS5 \iho planed to ambush LIs on our wa\ to Outjo. Our intelligence discovered the trap and warned us to change our plan. We instead mov ed to the forest situated between Ongandjera and (lukwambi. I went with the combatants into the jungle where we stayed for about twi months. The local people started calling us eendulme doinornufitu [men of the forest]. Yet, in this forest too, our presence came to the attention of the chief in this area, who reported us to the SASP. They instructed him to gather all the able men in his area, and to take their bows and arrows, knopkel-ies and hunt us down. Some community members, upon receiving these instructions, came to ssarn uis about this plan. Our comrades, who w\ ere trained from abroad, advised us to leave the place before the local people got to us. Their opinions were that \\ c should avoid at all cost anm confrontations between us [S\WAPO] and the local people. This instruction by the police could have been a strategy by the apartheid regime to discredit SWAPO, by making us look as if we sswere fighting against our own people and that we were not \\ anted nor supported by them. Hence, they Were chasing us away from their commUnity. Although we \\ere not sure for a fact, the possibility of being attacked b\ local people \was a risk to us, because this would confuse our supporters in the commnloitN. The best option was to leave before the chief arrived. We took their advice and left tr I Jukwalhudhi, where we were warmly welcomed by the senior headman and his people. Ie made our presence discrete. In I 'ukwaluudhi, we were given a suitable place in the ()mugul gwombashe [(Jngulumbashe] forest to construct our training camp. The storv behind this forest is that a long time ago, Omugulu gwombashe was host to a \\ isc old ()mbashe Igiraffe] who managed to survive the severe drought that hit the area maim years ago. Onmgulu gwombashc is also the place of birth for the Ovawambo and Ovahcrcro people of Namibia. It is a sacred place, where their cradle is found in the ()omboombo or Omumborombonga tree, which marks the point of separation between the children of Kazu kaNlangunda (mother of the Ovahererol and Nangombe va\angundt, [mother of the Ovawanbol. Here wc felt safe under the protection of our ancestors. There were, however, a fesw other persons in Owambo who xwcre entrusted with information about our presence, so that they could help provide food and other necessities. It is alleged that, some of the people entrusted with information about our whereabouts were also those who collaborated with the police, and betrayed our cause to the South African Defence Force [SAI)F]. Another Group of Combatants Arrives Tate Julius Shilongo, one of the leaders in the second group of combatants, narrated: I was in a group of the second S\VAPM combatants \\ ho were sent from Dar-es- Salaam in 1966 to join our comrades at the Tuhadeleni home in the north. We walked on foot from Kongwa in Ianzania to Namibia. We did not have any guns in our possession, although we were all trained rolitarilh. Our commander, Castrolli, knew the wav very well and he led us to Namibia \ia the Kavango. Our mission was to x\ ork with civilians, to mobilise them so that they could fully understand and support the struggle; and to join the contract labour system in order to mobilise the workers to bring about change in the contract labour system. We xxere detected by the SASF while on the Angolan boarder. We noticed some strange movements and wondered whether \we weore being followed. We decided to split up into three groups and proceeded to Rundu where \\e g ot arrested at the recruitment centre as we tried to join the contract labour system. We were besieged by the SASF and did not have guns to defend ourselves or to engage in a battle. Our guns were to be sent later from Tanzania after a full analysis of the situation in Namibia. \When the enemy found us, I was a bit distant from mx comrades. I ran to the back of the (luarters, jumped the fence of the workers' compound and ran for my life. I hid well in the bush and watched m' comrades being taken away by the enemy. I tried to escape from the Kavango area to 0)wambo. This was \er\ difficult, because I saw the SASF patrolling the area both on foot and with horses. I managed to escape to Owambo. I went into one homestead where I asked for food, and the people gave me oshikundu, plenty of it. As I stood up to say thank you and leave, the owner of the house in(luired where I was heading. I told him I was heading to )kongo, and he offered me a lift on his horse. I accepted the offer and when I got on the horse. he told me, 'I know who xyOU are and you are under arrest. We were warned by the police at Rundu to look out for \ou.' He rode me to the senior headman's house at Ehafo where I \ as detained. l'wo guards with guns x\ atched oser me. \We arrived there at around midday, and in the afternoon around 16.00, the cattle herder returned without their cattle, claiming they got lost. At about 17.00, 1 heard a woman shouting: 'l'/umenhu l/o, k''li a;iobetifi Ii/ya i nepya, oi//a ,ail likapO, p a/lumeahu lotokeni va/e/elli, ,1ttl'/e'll1 [The cattle are in the omahawm.u field. NIen run, please help, our ona/ia/Igil is being eaten up b\ the cattle. Men run, hurry into the field, help, help]. I noticed that my guards were rushing out to help chase the cattle away from the orna/anzgu field. I also ran to help and suddenl\ rcaliscd my opportunit', to escape. So, I made my escape. I struggled to find m \\a\ to Endola and rcaliscd that men on horses were following me. Having been a cattle herder as a yoting man and knowing the area well, I managed to outmanoeure them. Nx military training from abroad enabled me to confuse the enemy in losing track of me. I \was getting \ ery hungry, because I spent many days without proper meals. I reached m\ aunt's house at ()kongo. She took care of me and prepared a good meal for me and oshikuda for the journey to Endola. I came to Endola and was shocked to find Kaxumba's home vacated. A goat herder told me that Kaxumba had been arrested by the SASF and that his wife xas living with her motherin-law. ie brought me to .lc',ku/u Nlwatetivi's house where I found Am' Priskila. I had a hard time to convince her that I was truly a comrade before she directed me to Ougulu gwombashe. I was glad to have found my comrades, and I informed them about our mission and what had happened to m\ comrades, including our commander. They were distressed by my stor\ and there was almost a complete silence until 'lte Kaxumba said: 'We are most saddened by what happened to our comrades and the effect it has on our struggle. I will encourage us all to turn these pains that we are feeling into new energy, and to draw strength even from difficult circumstances. Our comrades who were arrested have left us a challenge to free Namibia. WC must double our efforts and dedication to the struggle for Namibian independence. This is the biggest honour we can give to our comrades. Long live SW\APO. long life to the struggle.'

IV Omugulu gwombashe Attacked Tate Johannes Silas was a young resident in Tsandi village near the Omugulu gwombashe forest at the time of the attack. He gave an account of what he saw on the morning of the attack. The ()mu1gulu gwombashe attack came to us as a big surprise. We were not expecting it nor had we thought that in our lifetime wc would see a bloody war like that one. So that morning of 26 August 1966, my wife and children had just left for the omahalngi threshing ground, and my son and I were about to start milking the cow\s. We heard a zooming sound, more like a powerful hail. \\c looked into the direction of the noise and saw planes going and coming. Out of these planes came blue objects looking like clouds. These objects were falling from the sky down to the ground in the direction of the camp, where the combatants were. So I thought, are they perhaps receiving \ isitors from Tanganyika and w.vhat is going on. I thought I would quickly go over to the camp to find out what was happening, when suddenly we heard terrifying noises, boboo boboo, tataa tataa and then gogoo gogoo coming from the direction of the camp. The planes were flying round and round the camp nonstop and dropping fire and smoke onto the camp. This was when I realised that the camp might be under attack by the South African Defence Force and that the war had broken out. And so, like many other people in the community I was thinking of what to do. From my cultural upbringing, I was socialised to understand that if my community was being attacked, it was the doty of all men to defend it. So, when the camp in which our combatants were in was attacked, many of us felt duty bound to strike back at the enemy. The biggest challenge was that we did not know how to fight warplanes. Our community had brave and inspiring warriors, like Isack Shoome and Simeon Namunganga Hamulemo, who were shooting at the planes with bows and arrows, but it did not help to stop the shooting and bombing. This was a sophisticated war and none of us had ever fought or trained for this kind of \\ar. We were all shocked and stood around without words coming out of our mouths. The bombardment went on for about two hours, and then there \ as a complete silence. Men went to the camp to find out what had happened, but before we reached the camp, we met some of the combatants who had escaped from the battle, and we were advised to quickIN, return to our homes while they remained in the jungle. Not long after we got to our homes, tie South African Defence Force zoomed into our village. They searched homes and rounded up all the men. I was also arrested bx the soldiers and they accused me of being a terrorist and said that I was in the terrorist camp. They examined my feet and my shoulders. After they realised that I was not a combatant they asked me: 'You live in this village, you must be awxare of the terrorist in the bush, tell us what You know about them. Have you seen them today? \What did they say, where did they go?' I knew everything about the combatants but when the SADF asked, I had to pretend that I knew nothing whatsoever. I had to play most ignorant. That \ ax they left me alone, saying: 'If you see them you must tell us immediately, x(IL will be rewxarded.' We \ ere frightened of the South African soldiers, they had guns and they used them to scare people further. Excrvone in the communitv had tried their best to avoid them, to avoid talkin.g to them or being picked up by them. But this was very difficult because they just rounded up people and started questioning. And once xou were in their hands, they would do any- thing to harm you in order for you to talk. They told me if I lied to them, they would find out and would come back for me, and in that case, there would be no mercy. I was really luck\, they left me alone. .lanv of the men that \\cre picked up by the police w crc not left alone, but taken to Ondangwa and brought back one after the other. This whole ()nmuguhl gWombashe attack brought bitterness to our community. 'he litany of horrors, the deafening sounds from tile bombing and shooting, the shaking of the earth, tile crying voices of children, the attack itself dcfied all reason. \Ve could not understand \% h tile South African Government would send the whole arm'y, police, and helicopters to fight a handful of people who were not e\en full\ armed. Aftcr the bombing, many of our ioung people rcalised bow difficult it was to fight the sophisticated army of South Africa and, therefore, decided to go into exile to receive proper military training, and to come back and fight for the independence of their motherland. i te Kaxumba \%as one of the sur\ ix ors of this attack, but unlike the other combatants who remained in the area of ()mLugul g\\ ombashe, he headed for Endola to find out wvhether his home had also been attacked and whether his wife and children were all right. YOu must remember that Tare Kaxumba's homestead was the first home for the first S\VAPO PLAN fighters e\ er to arrive in Namibia after their military training from abroad. So, his home was indeed the first SWAPO camp inside Namibia. ,The decision by Kaxumba to accept the combatants \ias not an easy one, and I couldn't think of anyone at that time who would voluntaril, wholeheartedls, and generously accept this task. There was an attempt to send some of the comrades to other households in the north, but the plan did not work and they all eventually returned to Kaxumba's homestead where they stayed from August 1965 until March 1966. It is also important to understand that Tate Kaxumba was a peasant farmer, living a communal life like any other man in the community. His consciousness of right and wrong, and his belief in freedom and justice created his political ideas. He wanted the liberation struggle to succeed and his people to be free from the torment of apartheid colonialism. He campaigned for support and ensured that the struggle was well understood by our people. His untiring efforts in support of the struggle for independence made him one of the architects of our liberation. So, we all worried about his home and his family. Ndahambelela recalled how her father made a brief appearance at home a day after the attack. I still remember one night when lummy came into our room at night whispering: 'Children, children wake up, go and greet your father.' \We all jumped out of bed to go and greet our father. He was seated at the olpale and Mama had prepared food for him. We ate together with him. He told us how the South African Defence Force had attacked them. 'It was the early morning of 26 August. \Ve heard a loud noise, more like a thunderstorm and bang-bang, dudt.-dudu noises! It felt as if the earth was shaking. \'c looked out to find a great number of blue objects flying in the air around our camp. Before sv had any idea of what was going on, the bombing started. Few people among us had guns. Many (if uIs were shooting at the helicopters with bows and arrows. So the battle began, the enems w as attacking us from the air and on the ground. The comrades who had guns did their best to put off the enemy fire. Those who did not have guns, shot back with bows and arrows. Comrade John Otto Nankudhu, our commander at Omugul gwombashe, went into the middle of the camp during the battle. Standing in the midst of bullets and bombs, he shouted orders to us. When he realised the enemy fire was hearN and they were advancing \ r\ fast, both by air and by land to besiege us, (ommander Nankudhu ordered us to retreat from the camp. It is not clear whether wc all survived the battle, and I just come home to see how N oui were doing.' My father looked quite sick. lie and other comrades had lived in the bush for a long time and they probably did not have proper meals. The cold weather conditions and lack of proper camping facilities contributed to his bad health. He spoke to us, ate his meal, and disappeared. I wanted to go with my father into the bush to look after him. I was told that this was impossible. Myl, father's presence was made very secretive, and Mama was the only person w ho sometimes knew where l)ad was. We only saw him when he came home at night for his meals, and then lie again disappeared from home. Meme Priskila recalled the aftermath of Omugulu gwombashe: There was pain and tension created by the Omugulu gwombashe attack. Many people all oxer the country and especially here in the north were picked up by the police from their homes. This worried people and made them afraid for their own safety. There were rumours of supporters and sympathisers arrested from all corners. There was a lot of tension. In October 1966 the SASF raided our home. They came fully armed and were X ery aggressive towards us. They wanted to know where my husband was, when we last saw him, what he told us and where he said he was going. Questions such as, l1aar is SIIAPO? lMar is Eliaser luhadeleni en Kavumba kaNdo/a?' became like a song in our ears. They said to us that 'your neighbours, so and so, told us that you are the one who is bringing terrorists to this community; you keep them in your home and you cook for them. So, you must tell us, when are they coming for their next meal?' They spent a whole morning questioning us and searching our house. The people of Endola had been a source of support to us. I did not believe from the names of the people mentioned that anyone of them would make such a statement to the police. We maintained our statement that we had not seen them and had no idea of their whereabouts until they left. A week later, they returned with a helicopter, armour, and soldiers, and parked in our omahangit field for days. We ran away from our home to hide with neighbours, and not one person in our neighbourhood e\ er handed us to the police or alerted them as to where we could be hiding. Tate Johannes Silas further stated: The bombing destroyed the provisions, equipment and utensils that the combatants had had. Thev had to relv entirely on the local population for food and shelter. After the bombing, they regrouped to ascertain what had happened, and to see whether there were casualties, dead or if anyone had been captured alive. 'he\ had to, on the basis of what happened, plan and work out a strategy ho\s to survive further, knowing well that the enemy would do all it could to hunt them down. So, how\ could they get food? The bombing and arrests afterwards of innocent cix ilians sent a shock w ave throughout the commtnity. Detective wxork by enemy agents, \\ho were paid for reporting those giving food and shelter to the combatants, was rife. As the enemy movements to hunt down the combatants intensified, it became necessar\ for them to flee the area to the eastern part of Owambo. On their \\ ay to the east, they passed through the 'Iuhadeleni home and teamed tIp vith Tate Kaxuniba. [hex decided to retaliate against the enemy by launching a surprise attack on Oshikango police station. On the day of the attack at Omugulu gwombashe, the apartheid government was blowing its own trumpet that it had eliminated a terrorist camp in South \Vest Africa, and that it had taken care of the communist activities. So, the Oshikango attack infuriated the apartheid governmcnt, which revenged the attack by launching an intensive search for the combatants and their supporters, and which sought the local communities' assistance in tracking them down. A number of rewards, that included money, were offered to persons willing to volunteer anN information about the whereabouts of the combatants and their supporters. And, therefore, it became absolutely necessar. for the combatants to go Undercover and be kept under wraps, although they still carried out underground work. Kaxumba staved mainl\ at Ongwediva in the homes of Shamcna, I ihuh\x a, Nghatanga, and Shoombe, so it was rumoured. The Security Police, Meme Priskila, and the Children I wanted to know whether Kaxumba's political career had any consequences on his family members (wife and children) and his homestead. Meme Priskila explained: The search for Kaxumba continued and several homes were visited and searched by the police here at Endola and the surrounding communities. There was pressure from the community for fear of their o\wn safety. It had not been possible for us to return to our home because the South African army was still occupying our field with their helicopters, armoured cars and personnel. Our neigbours were interrogated in our presence, but they never surrendered us to the enemy. This was indeed \cry difficult and painful. It was later on rumoured that the police were targeting homes where wc sought refuge and persons keeping our livestock. People got scared of even keeping our livestock. Stories went about that Kaxumba crossed the border into Zambia, but that he visited his wife and children every night and returned to Zambia in the morning. Our hosts became the target of police visits. They became scared of us, because our presence in their homes brought them trouble with the police. They got fearful of helping us, while we were worried that someone might get hurt because of us. These circumstances isolated us, because many of our relatives and acquaintances felt the urgent need to distance themselves from us, while we tried to be careful not to get people into trouble with the police. We had to come up with a plan. We had to split the whole family into small groups and send each group to stay with relatives in different parts of the community. Andili and Ndahambelela went to my parents. Noah was at the boarding school at Odibo. Kandina went to Tate Ndakalako's house at Onekwaya. Keshe, our lastborn, was given to my younger sister. I decided to disappear from our ward completely and to go into hiding, so Shall and I went to Okalongo where my other young sister wvas married. Noah continued: The South African Police were looking for information that would lead them to finding out who attacked Oshikango. They came to Odibo, found me in the class and arrested me there for questioning. They were well informed as to in which class I was and what I looked like. So, they took me to Oshikango and interrogated me. They asked me: 'When did you see your father last? What did he say to you? What was he carrying? Did he have a gun? Whom was he with etc?' It was difficult for me to answer to these questions, because I was in the boarding school for most of the time. However, the police did not trust my answers and they threatened to beat me up if I did not tell them the truth. So, they whipped me ten times with a .sjel/bok, but therc \\ as nothing that I could do. They later told me to leave, but warned me that if I was hiding information from thcm, the\, would find out and would come back for me again. So, I rcturncd to school with lots of questions unanswered. At the school, I had \ cry good teachers who would do anything to protect me from the police. 'l'here were, for c\amplc, )r Jardin, the principal, Petrus Hilukilw% a, Petrus Indongo and especially Father Nicroro who recruited me to work for the church during school holidays, in order to avoid mc having to go home because wc did not have a home anymore. Our home \as destroyed by the war. itC understood the problems my family was faced with, and tried in a \ a\ of an adult talking to a child to explain to me why it was important for me to stay at Odibo during holidays. Nly father's political stand was a source of confidence my fellow students displayed towards me. They, for example, elected me as their secretary for the Students' Christian Mm cment [SCNIJ. SCNI was a vcry progressive organisation through which students organised demonstrations against any repressive laws imposed on us by the apartheid regime. When I finished my studies, I was requested to teach Mathematics to grades five and six teachers. While at Odibo, I really felt I belonged to a community of caring people, because I was made to feel really wanted and protected. I stayed at Odibo until 1971, when I got an offer to work at the Finance Department in Ondangwa. I was at this job for about six months when a demonstration took place in Ondangwa. I, like many other members of the communit., attended that demonstration which was on a Friday, and upon my return to work the next Monday, I was called in by the office baits, who told me that he had fired me due to the demonstration. I was unemployed for a while, but was again recruited to work on the canal construction from Ruacana to Oshakati, and was fired again due to another demonstration I was accused of having organised. I took part in the demonstration like other workers, but I did not organise it. I was paid my money and given twentvfour hours to leave the area. So, I was again without a job. I had lots of problems \with the officials of the colonial dispensation, but I had no problem at all as the son of Kaxumba among my peers. I played football and my colleagues wanted me to be in their team. In fact, when I was fired from the canal construction, some of my colleagues working for the Oshakati hospital tried to organise a job for me. So, from 1973 1 started \ orking under cover for the Oshakati hospital on the government payroll. It took six months for the police to discover me, and then the' came to ask me for my father. They even followed me to my apartment just to intimidate me. So I asked them to look in between my books, in m\ bed, and under it to see if they could find Kaxumba there. Niv life was made easier by the support from colleagues, but the police really set out to destroy my livelihood. Ndahambelela told the following: The circumstances under which we had to survive when my mother left for Okalongo were tough. It w as extremely difficult for my mother to lease us in the hands of other people when she knew that our hosts \were scared of us. We knew for a fact that their fear was based on the realitx of events, and our presence in their houses really brought the security police into their homes. We felt not wanted and that our stay was a threat to the security of our host families. In some cases, it xvas made clearlx obvious to us that we xvere not wanted. Our hosts were afraid Of us, because the enemy said, 'Those who are caring for Kaxumba's children must tell us where he is.' People did not like to get involved with the police, they did not want to be (Iuestioned and forced to sax things they did not really wish to, and did not like their homes visited hx police. This was understandable, because to be visited by the apartheid police was hell.

Ny mother \\as also not always aware of l)ad's whereabouts, and on top of that she \%as expecting. She was about se\en months pregnant. The police set Lip a campaign to look for her. They wanted her to tell them \\here nx father and our visitors went. ( Infortunately, a police informer spotted her at ()kalongo and notified the police. They found her and beat her ip, nearly to death, and she miscarried. "'he people \ ho offered her refuge got \vcrN frightened by the implications of hosting her further, and feared for their own safety. Again, Nama had to move elsewhere. This time she decided to go and live \with Kaxumba's mother as a last resort. She decided, if the ,\SlF wanted to kill her, this would be her last place of rest. I remember being scolded by mx host in 1966 reminding me on various occasions that: 'Ooxo nooni-oko oz, li nii ,Lw omiw'e doiwa/awa/a, shaashi ova ha/a nwa ia, omwc tu etela owala." [Your parents made thenselves heads of doon, because they want uLtI to die, 'oU brought us war.] These words were told directly to me, to m face. When mx mother decided that we all were to live at Kuku .Mwateuvi's home, people were actually happy to see us leave their homes. In the end, we all went to live with Kuku NIwateuvi. Our grandmother wx as a strong-willed woman: she was never afraid of the police and went about her day as if her son ws'as not a wanted person. One day, I saw a photograph of my father pinned on the wvall of our school. I also saw photographs of some of our visitors and noticed that there \\as an award offered, something like: 'If you see the person in this photograph or if you know of a person by this name, inform/report the matter to the police and you will be rewarded R1,000.' I stood there for a long time, I wanted to destroy the photographs, but I did not ha\e the guts, as I also did not know who placed them there. It \Nas not only me who became terrified by these photographs; the community w\'as equally worried especially of associating with us. The South African arm' intensified its search methods by involving local people in its search. It put agents to watch over the coca shops, where it suspectedfifii men bought food or drinks. One day while at school, the policemen walked into our classroom. They greeted the teacher and informed her that they wished to make an announcement. The teacher did not object. They told the class that: 'We are searching for a very dangerous man by the name of Kaxumba kaNdola.' They produced a photograph of him and walked from desk to desk showing it to all the children including myself. 'Who has seen this man, do you know him?' Everyone in the class \\as quiet, the teacher included. They continued asking the same question. We all shook our heads and said wc have not seen any such man. This was the first time the police came to my school, but our teacher seemed to have known that the police were coming. She forewarned us that morning, that if someone came to ask whether we had seen or known any person with such and such a name, or who looked like the one on the photographs they may be wanting, we must never say that ses, we knew them or had seen them. I learned that in our community, my father was now referred to as a guerrilla fighter, a freedom fighter, a fiifii, ondume yomonuJiu, and as a person who changed into objects. x' father was said to have learned the trade of changing into objects in Zambia and Tanganyika, wshere he had gone through the magical process and been cooked in large pots. He \\Lis apparently one of the few who emerged from the process, while others burnt to death or came out incomplete. The stories about Kaxumba changing into objects went around our community. Some said they saw him changing into a tree. Some said they \watched him as he turned into a termite hill upon the arrival of the police. Others claimed he turned into a ground hornbill, while others further maintained that they watched him walking out of their houses and then suddenly disappear into thin air, and there \\,as nothing to be seen. These stories were told

'.Alir -a '.lll~f11,/I/fl// Pinp 'l // o4i(l,/lallf -' fiji w~ thisi/ 1/,/ mr1(1 I/aIi:' 1///llf//o/ lf ,ot /q/' h SO//h. IfI-it IololAux nm/ia kNl/\o/l (nols f// rl "// l0/ // th/ i/ ll/ll' ()/ /1/s Ill wl f/e pofi /) il I/ Z11 /i I/I / , I s o/l i o/ if I i''i'i u / '/ill/i l 0l I, popul-l oi ll Yu,. I !17, all1 II/ 'Iu p c'~ . 71h, /(ID I l~oh/1I1ji/ //s o/ is s/i ke l~lt , , o/ Ili', li/i/i~/ , ,- /i /h5i /1/s s/ /ii pa/ /hl, li/ s , I ',ui/ Is li, ,l/ (s/i//it Is Ii li/ 1~\I/t,1 /f\ /f/ Osil hI7 il//'l)/ tl>l/tN V ii l / il '/ -,s I1 ','.I ,!' 1 ~ i//'b 1/o , h , I/ i / with a mixture of love and compassion, and with a sense of pride and excitement, but they baffled me. I remember one time, as we walked home from school with a group of other children from the ncighbourhood, there was a sudden cry, someone was shouting: 'Kaxumba kaNdola'. I turned around to see where my father was and noticed that my friends were on their heels running to witness Kaxumba turning into an object. I watched them run towards a donkey standing alone in the field, and talk with excitement how they saw Kaxumba turning into a donkey. I was confused and afraid. I looked at the donkey. It did not resemble my father in any way. What was I supposed to do, to say hello to a donkey or xwhat? I was once asked by the teacher to tell the class how ny father turns into objects. How could an adult ask a child to tell a story like that? I pulled all my strength together and told the teacher that I loved my father very much, I hoped, wished and prayed every night and day that he would come home to be with us, to give uIs love and security. I could not, therefore, withstand anyone asking me to relate how my missing father turned into an object. I broke into tears and wept. The teacher was maybe innocent in his curiosity, but times were hard, and I had no way of knowing where his loyalty lay. During those days, if you were xw alking somexwdhere and suddenly noticed a donkey, a ground hornbill, a termite hill, or anything that stood alone, it was assumed to be Kaxumba. When people saw a ground hornbill and thought it was Kaxumba, they would chase the bird wherever it flew to see how it was able to turn into Kaxumba again. Some people were simply curious to see what Kaxumba looked like. The other sad thing was the money offered to anyone who would report my dad to the police. The money offered xx as a temptation, and some people opted to collaborate with apartheid. So, the local people sang: tI NVIIi ! Oe//l l / od ris d / /1/ kios//is 0n///is/lstf I" 'm.ire'h s n 2 fw bie-ad I//I// 111 /fii / po // s/I/i o\t t1c C\pcnlC it" \Clling their \\ n nation.

Our home was completely vandalised b\ the police coming to look for the SWAPO men in every corner of what was left of our home. We had had oua/,ahgu storage baskets full of millet and other agricultural products like sorghum and beans. Es crything was destroyed during police raids. Apparently, S\VAPO men hid in oma/lxaiiu storage baskets! In their search for eendume donoinufitu, our millet \\as thrown to the ground and what was left of it disappeared. We had goats and cattle, but they too got scattered in different directions during the war. There was no one left at our home to look after our livcstock. When wc eventually returned home during early 1967, everything that we possessed was gone. We had nothing to eat. Our household utensils, such as baskets, plates, buckets, clay pots, and everything else were gone. It was total ruin for us. Some community members attended to our cattle in the beginning, but when the search for Kaxumba's family intensified, people got totally scared. Our cattle were moved from house to houIse until thcv eventually disappeared. Our neighbours said that the goats used to come home and stayed on for quite a while on their own, but as there \as no caretaker they also eventually disappeared. In this way, our livelihood was totally destroyed, and we were forced into an absolute destitute situation. It was also not clear whether the SADF ate our goats or \\hat. While we w\ere at Grandma's home, Mama started to visit our home regularly, just to find out the possibility of us returning and rebuilding our home once again. Every time she visited, she mended something, starting with the outer fence, then she continued with thatching new roofing for different rooms, until the whole house was ready to be inhabited again. After eight months of living in hiding we returned to outr home. I was shocked to realise that we had to live in absolute poverty, because our millet, goats, cattle, hoes, pestle, plough, buckets, axes, baskets, clay pots, and everything else was gone, except the mortars. These were the only things that remained, maybe because no one had time and energy to dig them out of the soil. There was one brick building that remained, but it too had lots of cracks because of the long period of our absence from home and there \\as no one to give it a facelift. As soon as Mama finished with the renovation, she decided to return to our home. She promised never to move out again no matter what the circumstances might be. On the day w e returned home, Mama said: 'I have returned to my last destination, this is the last place of hope and destiny.' My younger brother Shali helped Mama to reconstruct our home. We had just returned to our home in 1967, when Tate Lungada suddenly arrived. He was very ill. He was in terrible pain. He could not sit, walk or stand, even lying down was difficult for him. Mv mother was terrified. She did not knowv what to do and where to seek treatment. She started cooking omahaellu porridge, which she rolled into her headscarf and tied onto the chest of late Lungada. This type of treatment did not help much and ms mother was getting desperate. There was only one person, ,lMl Aina Tobias, a distant neighbour \ ho w as also a nurse, to whom I saw my mother going to for help in times of extreme difficulties. She went there during the night time to ensure that no one saw the two of them togcther. .llhwl \ina agreed to treat Tare Lungada and she assured my mother that her lips were sealed. She asked her not to bring the patient to her home nor to the clinic, hut that they meet in the oshanas, in some bushes under the palm trees. They did as agreed and the followin- three nights my mother and my elder brother, Noah, carried 7'hte Lungada to the oshanlas at about 22.00 for treatment. She would give him an injection and some tablets for him to take during the day. Luckily for us, 'Tate Lungada's health started to improv e in just two to three das s. As soon as he was on his feet, he disappeared into hiding. We never saw him again until 1989, during Namibia's transition to independence. \\c were always \ cry grateful to .llene Aina, because she \as bra\ e to help us in the most difficult situation and she saved our lives by not talking. She was a woman of integrity. There were vcry few people who could keep quiet w hen they knew that a RI ,00 a\\ard awaited them at the police station, and in those days this \\as a lot of money. Just as 'lit' Lungada disappeared, the police discovered we were back and started to come looking for mx dad, but Nlama only said, 'I thought you had come here to return my husband, if you see him, please bring him home.' No one could tell us whx the police jailed my dad, while at home they continued to make us suffer. They would come to our home pretending to be looking for Dad. Sometimes we would return home from school at around one o'clock, and all of a sudden the police would arrive. When we rcalised that the police came around one to our home, we also tried to leave the house before they arrived. After school, we would rush home to Mama, eat quickly, and get scattered in different directions and would only return home in the evenings. The police realised our stratcgy. They also started coming to our home during the night time, while we were asleep. They came between three and four in the morning. They would come into the rooms with torches lit in our faces. They w(ould ask where Kaxumba was with their eyes fixed on us tinder the full beam of their torches. They would drag us out of our beds one by one to the open space in our home. They would surround my mother and push her around. She would fall into one of them, who would in turn push her back to the next policeman. The policemen would treat my mother like a ball, and this w ould go on until she got completely exhausted and fell to the ground. This pushing was accompanied by swear words and insults. When they saw that my mother was unconscious, they would turn to my brothers. They would pull them out of the house into the bushes. There they would interrogate and beat them up if they did not tell them where my father Was. When they were finished with my brothers, they would return to the house to threaten my mother to talk while my mother had truly nothing to sa, because she too did not know where my father was. These beatings forced my brothers to go into exile at a \ ery young age. NN elder brother went into exile in 1974, followed by my other brother in 1975, and another in 1978. Shali's departure was quite a blow to my mother, even though it was agreed that this was the best option. Ny mother was left destitute, while her sons fled repression. \lv younger sisters also went into exile in 1976, leaving Mama, Kandina, and myself behind. Kandina also wanted to cross the border, but her escape never materialised. The two of us did our utmost to be of some support to our mama. Going to school was very tough, in terms of affordability, social acceptance, and stigmatisation, but dropping out of school never crossed our minds and wc continued our schooling despite problems. I asked Ndahambelela: 'Your family has gone through a lot. Could you name someone who was openly supportive of your family and to whom you went in times of extreme difficulties?' She replied: Our faith in God sustained us. Without faith, \re wouldn't have made it, although there was a time when I was questioning God himself, because why did he allow us to suffer so much? 'here was really no one \who camie to talk to Lis like a friend, to encourage us to study hard, or to look after our mama. And, for all those 'ears that my father was imprisoned, mx mother struggled with hardl' any help to feed us, clothe us or send us to school. There was really no one who could assist my mother or us. Most of the people who knew us had forgotten that we existed or preferred not to know ts. NI brother Shali \as my mother's right-hand man. It was he who together with my mother rebuilt our home for the second time. We are grateful for the support from sympathisers, peo- pie we did not c\cn know, while our relati\es kept a distance fror us. The indix idual members of our comnunit\ assisted us by donating agricultural implements, such as hoes, axes, calabashes, baskets, and clay pots. This lifted our spirits. The cornmunit\ assisted us until our home was re-built and adequately furnished N\ ith basic household necessities, although they did this inder the cox er of darkness. While I was in secondary school, there \\ ere countless occasions when I did not c cn have soap or Vaseline. I had nowhere to go to ask except my mother, not cx cn my fellow classmates because, although I was friendly to\\ ards everyone, I was fearful to get close to anyone, because I x\as afraid of being rejected in case they found out about my background. I feared picking Lip the wrong friends. NI\ mother was a gatherer, she knew how to save whatever little she had and shared it among us. She was a good teacher and a friend. One of the reasons \ hy I went into nursing was to avoid costs because at least with nursing I could start receiving a salary during the training period. This career path would not put too much pressure on my mother with school fees, and from the little I was earning I could send my mother some money. Meme Priskila recalled: I struggled under very difficult circumstances without really Much support to feed, clothe, and provide shelter and security to my children after the Omugulu gwombashe attack. Some community members helped by donating food and utensils, but they all did this discretely, usually in the evening when no one could see them visiting our home. I felt lonely. There was no one to talk to or share my worries with. In 1970, a Finnish missionary visited our home, and when he returned to Oniipa he sent some men to build a brick house for us with zinc roofing. \We x\ere very grateful, and for many years this house was the only roofing structure \\ e had in our home, and it is that room over there, it is still standing. I wanted to write to SW\APO during those difficult times, but I did not know how and where to send the letters. When my husband was arrested in 1960, wc received letters from the SWAPO office in Windhoek through our church here at Endola. We also had people like Simon Kaukungva and Herman yaToivo who spoke to us face to face. But 1967 was different, because many people that we knew\ were either in jail or had fled the country. And, as for my husband, I only had rumours that he had been arrested, and not a word about where he was jailed and whether he was alive. Although this anxiety lasted mainly for seven years, these were extremely long and lonely seven years. Apart from the rumours that KaxUmba had been arrested, there were still critical questions that puzzled our minds. For example, if it had been the police who had arrested my husband, why had they kept on coming to our home to look for him? I was worried by so many things and did not have anyone to share my problems at a personal level. At the beginning of the war, the community was very supportive. Every time they heard or saw the arrival of the police, they all ran to our house to assist or just be there to xx itness. They ran to our aid whether it was day or night. And, one day, the police decided to put an end to this by rounding up everybody who came to our rescue, and thrashing them xxith .samuhoks on their heads and bodies. They said: 'What are you doing here, what business do you has e in this house?' Some people got beaten up so badly, that from then on nobody ever came to our aid. WeV were left alone to suffer at the hands of the ruthless and brutal apartheid policemen. We lived almost as outsiders within our community. Some neighbours helped us from time to time, but they had to do this in secret.

The people were scared of the colonial regime that suppressed violently any opposition to their apartheid rule. I was used to having our home full of people, but since my husband became a wanted person by the police our home was no longer visited. I felt alone, isolated, and not wanted, because even people who brought us some support, walked in, delivered their donations and took off. No one really came with time to sit down and chat with me, like they used to do before the war. Sometimes, when I visited public places, like a shop or church, I heard people talking about me in my presence. 'She is wasting her time waiting for her imprisoned husband to come back. What a pity. She had better find another man to marry her. Those prisoners will never come back.' Then all my sons went into exile. Oh people were talking. 'Look at SWAPO's mother; all her sons have crossed the borders; she gave birth for the jungle.' Thank God this talk did not last long, because from 1972 to 1976, from nearly every homestead at Endola, a child went into exile. In some households, more than four children left for Angola or Zambia. So things changed, because so many of our wombs had enriched the jungle. In this way, I made friends with w hom I spoke about our children who had crossed the border to go into exile, our liberators and our heroes. At times, some women came to confide in me about how much they were concerned about the safety of their children who had gone into exile. I usually asked them to accompany me in a prayer. I asked God's blessing and protection to oversee our children in Namibia and in exile, and my husband and all comrades held in apartheid jails. To bless and save all sons and daughters of Namibia, who had crossed the border to go into exile. I also prayed for SWAPO, for good leadership, and asked God to guide them to victor'. Ve prayed that one day this land of our ancestors should be free and that our brothers and sisters, sons and daughters should return from exile, our brothers be freed from prisons, and that we might live in everlasting peace. Amen. Very often these ladies cried while I prayed and I got used to people crying on mv shoulders. I did not cry. I think I was hardened by hardships. I was not worried about mv children having gone into exile, because this was something known to me long before they crossed the borders. I, unlike other mothers, sasw people like Hifikepunve Pohamba coming and going back to Tanganyika. He came and lived with us before he returned to 'Tanganyika, and my husband even received letters from Tanganvika. I prepared journey meals for people crossing the border to go into exile. I saw people going into exile and received them from exile. As a mother, it was easier for me to live with a longing for my children in exile where they had a high chance of securitv and safety, than to have them home insecure. The South African Police raided our home. They took anything they wanted, dragged mv sons into the bushes, beat them tip, and forced them to talk. The sound of their beatings, twaa-twaa, and the screaming voices of my children, 'au-au', lived with me, even after the beating was over. The sound of mx children crying for help, being beaten, and my inability to fight the police and protect my children was most hurtful. They wvere not safe in our home, and I accepted that they might be safer in exile than being at home. Other mothers might have had a different experience, and hence their perceptions of their children having gone into exile, were different from mine. Sometimes when I w as sitting alone in complete silence, I found myself in strange moments having vivid memories of mx' children. I would hear their voices,'aw aw', crying for help. I knew that help \\as not there. It was a great relief for me to know they had crossed the border. I also heard from the S\VAPO combatants, who passed through our home, that they had arrived safely in SW\\P() camps. As long as they were safe and ali\ e, that was all that mattered to me.

It was only in 1974 that Meme Priskila was told that her husband had been imprisoned on Robben Island, South Africa. Meme Kandina told the following: 1 last sassvm fatirher in 1910, ss hen bc came homnc onc night \vhill sse w ere asleep and mr mother ssoke us up to go and ~reet him. Wc later on licard rumours that the /Noe, had arrested my father. Then, a hon hon, timc passd mitihout nm intlher or us kno\ ing where om fatber was. This broke m' heart, becaisc 1 lo ved my parcnts and \\e reall' bad a special relationship. My father's absence started ha\ ing negati\c cffects on me and my brothers and sistei*s. You can just i magine, txm mother sm as alo and harassed l\ the police, ss hile nm father ssas arrested b\ the policc and assimed dcad. \We m cre living in fear because of the policc, and in pos erty. I ssmas sers bright at school, and e\ erv end of the vear 1 used to \ alk homc \\ ith a smiling face. 1 wvas cither the first in class or at Ieast 1 \ould comc second. "'bc vear imv father was arrested, 196o7, 1 s as shockecd to realise that I \was fourth from the bottom. Tbc fllowming year, I ss as disappointed to accept that l had passed as the last person in the wholc class, and this went on until 1 completed high sclhol. l loss \s as it possible, I still ask omself? )'oi see, when I \k as a child, 1 did not undcerstand myself and sm bs l s as dceteriorating at school. Nom, that l am a mother \ ith children of my om n, 1 now undcerstand that being absent fron 'our children at a Ner carl\ age can ha\ e \ cry serious consc(lciinces. In 1977, while I ssas a student nursc at Onandjok\\c hospital, I ss'as informecd throuigh the ELCIN church at ()niipa, that if I sswas interested in \ isiting my father at Robben Island prison, there \as a possibility for me to go. The E 3IN and the Red Cross sponsorecd and organised this trip. We \erc over ten pcople altogether, among us ssmas a teacher, .llcme Nakanala, and a sister if flidipo 1 laiifiku, .Ih'n' 1 lilja, to rememebr just a few.

\'c 1et ()ndangwa in one group by minibus to \Windhoek, xhere wc were accommodated at the El I( :IN gocsthousc in Katutnra. \\C continued with our journey b\ train to Cape lown, \\ here \\e were recei\ cd I\ 7;/tl Shingcngc. \\c stayed at his house for one week before we \\ere taken to R,bci Island. \We travelled b\ boat to Rubben Island. When wc entered the boat, wc found other people \\crc already there, and wc were directed to go downstairs, because opstairs was only for the \\ hites. On arrix al on the island, we were taken to a room where \\ c waited tr our jailed relatixes. The guards told us our conversation could last for about thirty minutcs, and that no political discussions would be tolerated. We had to visit in turns, and when 1m\ time came I \xxas getting really flushed bv the excitement inside of me. Sccing my father for the first time after so many xears. Oh. \I\r father asked lots ofquestions: '1l l is the family doing? How is Mamm , and your brothers and sisters, the ncighbours and everyone in the ward?' He \anted to know in which \\ ax and the means bv which wc had travelled. I thought mx father \\as asking all these questions to prevent me from asking political questions. There xxere other comrades standing behind m\ father bringing their faces to the small window for me to see them. They told me hoxi much I had grown, because I Was txwcnty-cars-old, and they last saxx me \\hen I \\as nineyears-old. While I was talking to my father, I got annoyed by the way he was assuring me that he was well and all right. I noticed something really weird. When I last sax mx father in 1966, he had all his teeth in his mouth, and when I saw him in 1977 at Robben Island prison, there x, as not a single tooth left in his nouth. When he laughed during our conversation I wanted to crx. This frightened me. So, I asked him where his teeth were. But, he struggled to answer mx question and finally he said to me: 'I suffered from eve sickness that almost blinded me, so my teeth were removed to sax e my exes.' \Vhether this \\ as indeed what happened, I found the tale difficult to believe. This whole xisit \\:s weird and confusing, and I felt strange and itch. The visiting time was short, and I could not touch mx father because there xxas a thick wall betxween us in addition to the large tables fixed to the walls on both sides. I was used to hugging my father or shaking his hands x% henever he returned home from somewhere, but nowx even a handshake was impossible. xxh, I was heavv in mv head and felt that it was not worth visiting. When the offer xxwas ma( e to me, I thought I Would ha\ c an opportunity to see my father, to sit down with him and talk things out. I took money with me to Robben Island. The idea was to give it to my father. But getting there, I noticed very unfriendly guards that received us and the fact that I had no chance of gixing it to him, I returned with the money back home. I returned home with all other gifts I had prepared for my father, and this really broke my heart. I had a fiance, and in 1979 \\c decided to get married. I went to inform my uncle, Sam ''uhadeleni, and he granted me his blessing. Ho\ever, my mother strongly felt that we should find a \ ax to inform my father on Robben Island, because his consent was ver crucial. So, she struggled to obtain various permits to depart from Namibia and to visit Robben Island. By the time she secured these permits, it \\as already November, and our wedding was due in )ecember 1979. .\ny\\ax. she left for Cape Town while we got on with wedding preparations. The priest announced our intention to marry during Sunday service at our church at Endola. Once that happened, there was no turning back. iy mother \xas gone and we were home alone, how could \xc plan a \\ edding without Nlammv and Daddy? Days turned into \ ceks and Mammy had not returned. There xxas total chaos and panic Nx as all over the place. Our \\rcddings usually last for three days. On the first xxedding day, no one arrived, not even mx \lamnv. Then came the second wedding evening, and mx uncle, Sam Tuhadeleni, arrived. When I saw him I ran to him and cried. lIc comfortcd me and promised he was prepared to see me through this wedding \ hates er it took. So, a few other relatis es arrived and so mv hope \\as restored by I\ brave uncle. I Ic also hr ught me a c\, which he slaughtered that evening for iv \\edding. That same night of m\ \\cdding, m rnamnmv arrit cd from Robben Island. S"le Was ululatring and praising, the whole house responded, and then, a wedding mood pre\ailcd. Also, by the ceening, ny hushand-to-be's en\o', called celm/oko, arrived. In the morning, more people arrived and ever\one prepared thenmseh cs to escort me to church. The church \as very close to our home, so some of the people had to return home in order to cook the food for the \\cdding. We got married and this \\as a happy occasion. I \% as escorted back home hv a very thrilling group of dancers, singers, and ululators. \Vhen \\ c got to the field, the \\edding procession was directed to go into the shade (if the \larula tree, where a number of speeches \\ere made. Then the wedding party proceeded to the house, where \ arious types of food awaitcd us. As soon, as \\ c stepped into the main reception of my father's house, \\ e heard zooming sounds. 'Ai, \\ hat is it?', were the words on everyoe's lips. Then looking further across the os/kala, we saw cars speeding toward our house. \l mother said, 'Be calm c\ cry one, this is my war no\\.' Ish, people fled the scene, they ran for their lixves. Three cars full (if Borl, and two black policemen arrived, in full military uniform and with guns, and strangely enough they had no dogs. War \\ as upon us again, and we had nothing to defend ourselves. I was nearly deserted, and left with my husband, our bridesmaids, and very few people. \ly mother ordered everyone to sit down. She wx as the only one who stood, and so they came in. They walked straight to the olupale where we wvere seated. Nl\ mother demanded, 'What do you \\ant from us, what brought you here?' The policeman said: '\Ne received information that a terrorist was getting married and that all the other terrorists would be here to attend the wedding.' .I\ mother asked whether 'terrorist' implied our house (ir \ hy they specifically came here. Later on, the police wvent outside and \wc continued with our wedding. My mother advised that food be served immediately, as it was cr difficult to predict what the police's next move would be. When they saw that everyone was then eating, they also came back into the house and asked for food. My mother warned that no alcohol should be served for as long as those Boel were around. They ate, and with their stomachs full to capacity they left, no one was harassed, but they really ruined our wedding day. Some people ran away and neser returned even after the police had left. I suppose this was the price one paid for being the daughter of Kaxumba. Winning the Hearts and Minds Meme Ndaambe Nakale, a teacher at the Ongwediva Teacher Taining College from the 1960s until 1974, recalled a political campaign that was launched after the attack on Omugulu gwombashe. Around January 1967, the South African Police, \h h1 Occupied our area, started a political campaign against S\VAPO. This campaign was targeted at the educated Nanibians, especially those at boarding schools and training colleges. Letters wvere issued on the letterhead of the South African Government, and were distributed in secret at tile various boarding schools at Oniipa, Ondangwa, Ong\ edi\a, Oshakati, Engela and (kahao. Public opinion had it that a helicopter distributed these fliers during night time. This was how they wx ere discovered at our college. l ma, t. ltIi h t (imr in, t ii mm ar pemple fid norm kc p letter, >r piper, of !'plirical nimur lic hccmmiti peim fimcnentl wc'ar, m l -.pl'N hmlmlu'ni, ind paper, imt h -il icr immlilnd in . ili eicc, ~old i.1mdi \mIl. .. i c ke limi imnm tble ih ml1c mplmce 5.,,. "..m i ui1ic1 m i l pIm i,, crmmc ' ticrc cmlcr lm, ,,1 ndier ic -r.m.m.d o r dclcci 'd imlni-llmclm lhcr mIimill lAc ummcn,.. \.mm\ c,1m Iän immcp l cm mcd. clhumicdi llmc mhiumi' llcir h(,lmllc mmciii Im ml mmci i mc, r e lri mi xlmi4H' behr, Thlc\ bmi hllricd l ... . cl n Ic ... mli k hc" .lmrl im,1d ejmc i t[lmcmmm mmi J dc ll and fi il mluw rl lic ,n,ial Jy cl", uM n., h 1C h 1 ....ll lp rcc, mmli r hem~re li [l ' l hc c mml illi Ic mi lic mc litcr imli re'I/Icmmrihm'mcc )li mrflm4', college stuidents \\oke me uip, the\, m ere knmocking vigorommsly at my door and 1Ilim, I 'cach e ear. 'l iecher', 1 rm thcir knouking I Luspcctcd soomething m as yron g or that cIix \m re dcli\ er m, an ilportant and lirgent nessage. guot up from iiiv bed and opened the doorl. olie stimldents f1\i ted themselhes int m'\ single-romm hotnse that did not hasc a sitting imll l,-() 'm c \m el e thcIl all sta vildin inr I\ small room m ookinig at each other. Tihen line of then said: "Vc bIi mi-ht \y)Ii this', ha lFin iie a cop\ of a piecc of paper. 1 nticed it had an official letterhicad, a \ itten text, Imt it did nmt ha\ the namc of the sender. I read the text quickly and flr :a mm men l did nIt knm \ \\ hat tom dmo or sa\.I otld not beliex e the content. The students sp ie again: 'Wc picked this up among several of them readilx available all ox er the cmlcgc Cmm p n1d.' l \5 as not the colllge principal, but 1 got reall\ s iorried and did not know Vm hat tom dm. The principal's housc m as a bit far from the college. I therefore sent these students tm go- and fetch him and ad ised them tm take along a copy of the letter thev had just shmx' n me. lle m as alsm (liitc disturbed about the matter. The prinuipal \vas quick t act in response. ]le came over \ erx fast. There m a nothing m e cmold do about the matter and ftond this incident impmssihle tom belie'e. Wc w cre m orried by this incident, and were not sure w\hat might happen next. \Ve rhrethc re ad'iscd the 'tudents to remain in their roorms m hilc Nie obser'ed theciruation. The classes started later that morning and not at the usual We read the cmtent (mf these letters m er and over and cmuld clearlx 'ee that it mxas politieally ,mmti\ ated tm defame \WA( ). .'i , all the teachers started arriving fmr dutx, Ave fotnd ourC cs standin, in the mcllege c.mpound pondering and watching these papers fl\ ing left and right, up and domwn. These letters Vmetc thrm n everx here in the boarding compound. and no teacher (mr student in our college knexx hm they got into our college compound. ILater that morning, \e established that other bimrding schmols at Oshakati and Oniipa xxere faced \\ith a similar dilemma. When dai\'n cane, all we samx in the college vard were white papers flx ing in ex 'rx directimn the w\ind blex. Student, and teachers x\ere curious t find omit abm it the cmtentn, ande eerx (nc read fmr themseh es. The contents mf the letters xvere as fmmllm s: 'S\Ikl) is mmmnism, commmunism is S.\PO. Bevare, bexare mf S\VAPO, it is xmorking hard tmm mring cmmmnnimnm into our cmuntrv. SWA() is against the traditional authoritv and hasa prmgramme to kill all the hcadmen and chiefs and torn us all into slaxes of Russia. S\O() xvill bring cmnfim int mmir societv. It xxill destrov famil vailues and marriages. There \ ill be nm homnestcads as \ u ha\ e them nmx, nmo hIiisbands. mxi\cs and children. )m nomt allm S\\t() t get pm er in this chuntrc. ln thcir gmx ernnent, mxomen x ill be x ithout hsbands, children xvill nt kum mx lim their parents are. There xxill be a big camp in xx hich xx'men mwill be kept and men \vill gm to that cam1p and chmmse anx \mian the\ like. When children are bmrn, thex can stav xxitli mmthers, but as somn as they x in, SW\AI() Gmoernment xill take them a\\xa\ tm a humge childrcn's home x here the\ xx il grom xxithmut knowing who thcir parents are. omu do nmt xx ant this somcial disaster in Smuth \est Africa, keep S\VAPO m ot m m mur hoies, do nomt gi\ e them \\ ater or fod, d( nmmt ffer them mmonex or shelter. Report them to the police, xou mm i 1 be rexm arded.': I xxas a S\M() mmlber at the time, hut I kept mx membership a decp s'cret. Although l knex\ xer little about SWA\I)., I \x as shocked to read such incredible propaganda based on ()h\ iiis lics. 1 \ as \x rred hm the students and teachers x ould reaIct to this. It xm as x hispered tom mc liter in the da\, that ,omme SW\APO members xere planning a get tigether quickly to \work out a stiatc.gs' to coulnteract thesc lies. I wanted to attend the mecting, htt I did not know ht\\, because unlike other teachers N ho Iived in pri\ ate hi nes, l w\as staying at the board ing school. lh c in cetiog took place in onitc of the teacher's hi ses. It sÅ as th ii difficult for ne to lea\ e the boarding school at night to attend this meting. l \va afraid tf leing seen lea\ ing the school, aln0 l also did not knotis ulho \sas NN ,tching ox er the boardimo st hi.id dtlring the night. Ases ening came, I gi ot the stren 11th m\ mind wvas imade oIp and I N a reads to gi to the necting and l \w ent. The meeting started at abooit 20>.0<), after the cenin mceal. I was surprised that 7ili' Kainba ined us at th>is Incting. l le ads ised the necting that wc shi uld gis e the impresstor to the person reading ( ) mcetings, and they ahs avs took place during night time to as oid being dectected by the pilice or their infitrmers. The next night we met again to apprve the content

)ne niigl, not long after the m arning, Kaximlba arrived at our home in Ongssedi\ a. We recci\ ed him sell and h kncsw he cotd coli nt on us. Wc had a special thatched room for him in our hoie that was alh'a's reser\ ed for him. That same niight, we diseussed the seunrity sitiation around ()ng\vedis'a and informed him ahout ex cr\ possible opportunlity, as well as sfic risks in\ ok ed. Wc madc a separatc entrance to our hotsehold for Kaxumba to get in and out casih' \I ithout being noticed. 'l'he entrancc m as done in such a \\a\, that ssithout bing told that it m as an entrance, it could hardlh be noticed. Wc had to advisc Kaxumba to a\ oid being seen entering our housc during daytime, and he could not allom any person in our hotchold to notice his presence. \1\ wife prepared his meals carl enoogh, so that b\ the timc we left for school, hc had caten and could stas on until e\ening. His water and i,,shikiiiidl bottles sserc filled up every morning to avoid him coming into the house for a drink. Kaxumba, despitc heing a ssanted man, \as still exploring the possibilitv of holding public rallies. Wc did not successfulls con\ incc him that public meetings ssere too dangerous, and hc often slipped otlt at night and tra\ elled to some \'illa.gcs far from Ongsvediva for his meetings and returned only the next night. ()ne time, when he did not return on the second and third nights, \\c got really ssworried. It was absolutels necessarN to a\ oid public meetings and other open activitics that ss ould expose his presence to the public and police. We kness he had to change his strategy oif reaching oit to the pcople from a public to an underground activity, because public meetings had becone a dangerous option. The crux of the matter was that ss e lost nearls all our leaders from inside Namibia to the South African jails, such as 7itc ya'l'oivo, lax\swilili, and others. We could not afford to hear that Kaxumba had been arrested. Ve needed him to keep up the spirit of the liberation struggle. While at our home, Kaxuimba spent most of his davtine reading and planning his undercover actis'itics under the tree in the field. When tired, hc \vould secretly slip into his room to rest, but most of the time hc rested under the tree covering his mouth and chin Ns ith a book. This is what most students osed to do when studying under trecs, although Kaxumba did it to avoid being recognised. For identifying a person, mouth, nose, and eves must be scen together. Kaximba m as a verv si iciahle person, and asking him tu spend the ss hole day lonelN under the tree, or hidden in the room wvas contrars to the nature of his personality. I felt sorrs for him and hoped the police sotld stolp looking for him and things ssotld return to normal, but this nes er happened. Even his meals ssere taken to him discretelv, to avoid ansvbodv in our househlod s Aondering to \\ hom the food s as taken. This msas a verv unhealth\ situation for Kaxunba to livc jn the iutskirts of the comiinilnits. It ssas important to kcep Kaxtmba ()lit of the Iomuse during the das, hecause ss e had a Nerv btisN home. Pcople of all sorts visited s on a dails basis for various reasons. We had parents ssho cotild not afford to pas college fees for their children coming to ask for financial help and advice, as swell as student teachers asking for tutorial advice. In addition, we bad relatives aud friends cnminl for visits. Wc also had children \ ho were N isited b' their friends. This made it ver\ difficult to kcep Kaxumba in the house during dasytime, because of these unannotuced visits. Tle times s Cre hard and the colonial gm ernment ss'as using all sorts of tactics to crtish any persons associated ssith the liberation struggle, and to hnt Kaxumba dosn. B[ing suspected if hiding a s anted man bs the police, nade it difficult for is to have completc trust in the people \sho s isited our home. It msas no longer possible for me to lise a normal life, to have trust in othcr pciiple, to Ii\ e a normal communal life of openness and brotherhood. l had tu change my life and be more reserved. Other people's hearts became islands to me; there Nk as al\\ a s a question mark to an\ \ isitor sswho entered our home: could thes be an infrmer ir es en a pilice officcr? 1 bad no \xas to find ott.

Kaxumba had already made good news that circulated orally in the community, and anN new information would just add taste to the Kaxunba mythology already held by people. Even if a person seeing Kaxtumba at our home did not directly report him to the police, he or she might be excited to share the new information with other people. Such information would go from mouth to mouth and might end tup with the police. It was, therefore, necessary to a\ oid the possibility ofcoughing in the room, because doing that would make people wonder who was coughing or sneezing. Some people are curious, they could just pop in to see who could be sneezing or coughing in the small room, while we all sat outside. \Ve carried a minimal risk by having Kaxumba outside the house, tinder the tree, ,\here he could be mistaken for any student. Very often, when the police came to arrest someone, they came in cars, which could be heard from a distance. Secondly, they came straight to tile house to search for evidence, and to arrest the culprits in the house, not tinder the trees. Being Linder the tree, outside of the house, gave Kaxumba a much better chance to escape, as he would also hear the police cars zooming from the distance. Tat, Shoombe and I managed to convince the management of the boarding schools around Ongwediva to issue instructions that no student should take shade under a tree if they saw that another student was already there. And, that the schools or colleges would deal with any two or more students found studying under one tree, just to make absolutely sure of Kaxumba's safety. Very often, students did not study much in groups and much of their time went to chatting and laughing. Although this instruction was intended to prevent Kaxumba from being discovered, it also helped the students to concentrate fully on their studies during study time. It ssas obvsious that Kaxumba loved his country more than he valued his own life. He had such a lot of trust in people, that he often failed to understand or see that he could be betrayed by some of the very same people he was fighting to liberate. The police had placed a lucrative price tag to be given to anyone who could inform them about where to find him. There was that temptation, and in those days, R1,000 was a lot of money. We just had to warn him that his very own people might be tempted to sell him to the enemy. It was difficult to keep Kaxumba out of sight of the people for whom he made a sacrifice to fight and die. KaxUmba had a big gun, which he carried around at all times, like a woman carrying a baby. His gun was called Pepesa. The public opinion about Pepetsa was that it was one of the most sophisticated guns the world over. The gun was so dangerous that if shot in one of the oshanas, the whole of Ondonga would turn into a desert and all the pregnant mothers in the area would give birth prematurely. I was not a military man and had never held a gun in mv life, not even the ones used by hunters. I did not know a thing about guns. Like other community members, I truly believed Kaxumba's gun w as dangerous. And for most of the time, we were afraid of the safety of his gun and spent a great deal of time hoping that it would not detonate by mistake. Kaxumba always kept his gun hidden close to where he \as. One day, while he rested under the tree, we noticed that the cattle were grazing close to x\ here his gun was hidden, and we feared that the cattle with their heavy weight could just walk on it and it might detonate. \W'hat a disastrous situation. I feared the gunshot would attract the police to our home, and I Would have no words to explain it to them! We had some visitors in the house at tile time and that worsened the already difficult situation. Wc made a quick plan that my wife would take the baby carriage and baby blanket to go and \\rap the gun in, put the wrapped gun on her back, and carryit in. It was to be done in such a \vay that it looked as if she wvere carrying the baby and not the gun. She was also to do this very fast before our baby woke tip. We were luck\, the plan worked. \V werc scared of guns and did not know how to handle them, we did not kno\ where to touch or where not to touch. Kaxumba \%as a man of high moral and an inspirational political commissar. He wanted independence ftr his people and he strongly believed that independence was coming and that Namibia would be free. I c \\as not a man who believed in the use of force in conflict resolution, but he fully supported the peace talks. One of his admirers said that even in the worst of times Kaxonmha would say to them: \\c \\ ill fight the /Iojzm We \\ill heat them \WC ,hall fi,ht them We are ti me( to the teeth WC \\ill defeat them in ()shakati We ill \\ ipe then ()ot otllume1cb \nd ( )ta\ i and Giootoutecin \We shall dCtat them in ( )kalandja And march to \ ictory in \\ ndhoek. the capital city R torv is ours, the land \\ ill be free '['here shall be peace again and respect for human diLnity. Kaxumba was spiritually very uplifting, lie had the voice of a commander, a man of authority, set was \ ery pleasant to listen to and to be with. Kaxumba was a very straightforward person; diplomacy was something \ cry unknown to him. He was sensitive to others, but took no nonsense from anybody. One time, Kaxumba got ill while still hiding in our home. He had a very severe case of malaria. He was sweating like a small baby, and his body temperature was very high. Neither mv wife nor I were nurses or doctors. So, otr heads were really spinning around in total confusion, not knowing what to do. We were suddenly confronted with lots of questions to be answered. To which hospital could we take him? We asked each other knowing very well that hospitals could nt treat a patient who N as left at home. In which \\ay were we going to save his life? What could xxe do? We realised how difficult the situation was that we wvere in. We had only two choices, either to take him to the hospital and have him exposed to other patients and hospital staff, when wc did not know whether they could keep the presence of a wanted man a secret, or they \\ ould go for the money instead. Or, to keep him home to sciffer without medical treatment. ,\ain, thinking about the severe consequences of malaria drove us out of our own home to confide in the bushes. We finally decided to take the risk of having him treated. At that point we also remembered an acquaintance of ours, Ih'me :\inna Noodi, a nurse who lived \ er\ close to our home. We decided to go and talk to her or even to beg her to help us. Our request was not a surprise to her and she was willing to help, but did not know ho\ because in our culture there is a saying that, o0 anga i/aiendeleepwl 'anr, meaning, a medicine person does not visit for no reason. She had a concern that her presence at our home might attract public attention. She interviewed uis about every possible symptom that Kaxuimba had, and when she was satisfied with the information, she said: 'To avoid an\ suspicion, I will go quickly to the hospital to fetch the medicine xx hile you wait for me here at my home. I will then explain to you in detail how to administer each of the medicines. I \\ill give them to you so that you can treat Kaxumba vourself rather than having me come there.' While she was gone we decided one of us must return home to check on Kaxumba. but also to make plans for any eventualities.

In a N er\ short time ,lleme Anna returned, and she gave medicine to um wife and explained using \ crs simple and clear instructions how to administer each of the medicines including an injection. She drew a human buttock and drew a straight line in the centre and another across, dividing one buttock into four equal halves. Where the two lines crossed each other. that was where to inject. She took a lot of time to rehearse with my \\ fc on ow to mix the medicine and how to inject a patient until she was 100 per cent satisfied. She gav e her all the necessary advice and precautions, and requested that if there \\ crc any complications she should return to her immediately. This was a big relief, after spending two sleepless nights hoping and praying for Kaxumba to recover. The medicine started to work and we could scc progress. He was quick to recover and normal life returned once again to our home. It was mind boggling just to think \\ hat could happen if KaxuLba died in our home and in our hands. How werc \\e going to conduct the funeral, how could \\c tell his family, what would the police do to us? I low and \\here could \\e hav e the burial? At some stage, I thought \\c would have had to bur\ him at night, but again what if we were found digging in the graveyard during night time. How would \wc face his wife and children and break the news to them? Thank God, he recov ered completely and the nurse who assisted us kept her mouth sealed. There were vet\ few people to talk to about these things. In 1966. just after the Omu1gulu gs ombashe attack, we held many meetings with Kaxumba and John Nankudhu during night time to avoid public attention. These meetings took place inside homes but, after an incident in which the police launched an attack on comrade Patrick Lungada, at his brother's homestead in the Okahao area, wc had to change our strategy by shifting our night meetings from homes to the oshanas. In the oshanas, wre had the possibility of seeing the enemy from far and to make it to safety on time. This plan would also prevent putting the family of the host into possible danger of an enemy attack. Most of us were not armed; we relied for security and protection on "l ae Nankudhu and Kaxumba. I for one did not even know how to handle a gun let alone how to shoot. At these meetings, we planned the text for papers that wcre later circulated at boarding schools and colleges to inform the people about SWAPO and urge them not to believe in the South African propaganda. We felt duty bound to write back using the same medium to inform our people about what SWAP( stood for and what it wsas. Even the logistics of the attack on Oshikango in 1966 was planned during these night meetings. However, after the arrest of our paper distributors, the police found out that the papers were printed b Shamena and Shoombe right here at Ongwediva and not from Windhoek as was assumed. We were tipped off by someone, that the police had received information that linked both Shoombe and myself to the SWAPO activities; that they were about to arrest uIs, and that both our houses were probably tunder police survcillance. I Infortunatels, Kaxumba had to leave my place to find a new home to the cast of ()ndonga, where he was detected and arrested by the police.

V The Legend One of the stories that was repeated by every person I spoke to during the interviews, was the perception about Kaxumba that he turned into objects. I wanted to know exactly how Kaxumba turned into objects. Tate Paavo Kanime of Onghuta village said: Kaxunmba used to come here and hold meetings with uIs under that Niarula tree, but, after the ()mugulu gwombashe attack, his meetings took a different dimension. This was understandable, dute to individual traitors that w crc paid to inform the police about Kaxumba, as he was a wanted man hs the police. No\%, lie only met with a few SWAP(O members to discuss his politics, and left it to local structures to take action. In 1967, he was unexpectedly spotted at the village in full daylight. Wc wanted to hear whatever message he had to tell us. He agreed to talk to the few people who \\cre around at the time. We \\ere all very happy to see him, especially when we knew he was a wanted man b\ the police. \Ve felt very happy talking and being closer to our hero. \Vhcnever he held meetings with his people, Kaxumba used a slogan to demonstrate a common vision of power to the people of Africa. KaXumlba: Africa. The People: Oove. He saluted the slogan at the beginning and at the end of his meetings. Many people expressed concerns about his survival, because the apartheid regime was olt there hunting for him - dead or alive. What we learned from him during this meeting was that a true leader could be defeated, arrested, or even killed, but he would rise again if the mission has not been fulfilled. We should not be worried that he might be killed or arrested, because the defeat of a leader does not imply the defeat of the ideal he represents. Kaxumba advised us that \\c should be brave and be prepared to stand ip and continue the struggle until victory. We had been worried about what could happen to our people, our country, and our future but after listening to Kaxumba telling how other countries such as Tanganyika and Zambia had also struggled and won their independence, we felt spiritually uplifted. While the discussion was still going on, one community member suggested going to ask his wife to prepare food for Kaxumba, so that by the time the meeting came to an end, the food would also be ready. We all felt what a good idea and how absolutely necessary it was. As soon as the meeting ended, Kaxumba was escorted to the homestead where his food was being prepared. I was one of those few people who escorted him. When we arrived at this homestead, \wc were advised that Kaxumba be taken to the rest- room for the special guests, because he was tired and still had a long \wa\ to go. We were also advised not to keep him surrounded by crowds, because this might attract informers to the place. He was therefore advised to go and rest in the guest room, while his food \\as still being prepared. We did not object to this arrangement, and wc thought it \was in the best interest of us all. As \\c sat at the main reception area of the house, \we heard a sudden noise. We all rose to pay attention and sa\ three cars racing at full speed towards the homestead where we had just arrived. \ big stone of fear dropped into my heart. I immediately guessed it was the police. Yes, it was the police. They stopped their cars and moved fast to surround the house. They wxere armed to the teeth and accomrpanicd by an army of dogs. The dogs were the first to invade the house, sniffing at ex crvone and everything. The police fired some shots in the air. \\e got scared. I w\as trembling like a soaked chicken. The police fired some more shots and then they very quickly moved into the house. The dogs terrified us, and before the police could say anything, the owner of the house jumped Lip to say Kaxumrba \\ is there, in the thatched room over there. 'hey proceeded to the room \\-here Kaxumba was resting with their guns pointing towards it. I could see from their faces that these were aggressive men read' to kill. I was heartbroken and disappointed. I feared to see Kaxumba in the hands of such aggressors. While the other policemen went for Kaxumba. three of them remained with us, looking at us like hungry dogs looking at a person chewing a piece of bone. They gave us a few kicks and asked us to move \\ ith our hands on top of our heads. They directed us to walk into the field, and there wc stood inder the hot sun with our hands on our heads. They also ran their hands (\cr our bodies touching us eery\where, even in private parts. I tell you, those policemen had no manners. We heard more shots coming from the house, and I became even more frightened that Kaxumba might be killed. We waited tinder the sun. The three policemen left us alone to join the others in the house. Suddenly we sa\ all of them coming out of the homestead; they looked all around in all directions and on the ground. I wondered what they were again looking for. They then returned to their vehicles and drove off. We did not see Kaxumba. As soon as they left, we ran back into the house to find out what had happened. People from the community rushed to the scene carrying worries on their faces. We all wanted to know what had happened. The owner of the house told us that they could not find Kaxumba. He xxas not in the room, where he xx as supposed to be resting. There xw as no trace of him. He was nowhere to be seen. The police searched everywhere, while the dogs sniffled at everyone and everything, but there wx as not a trace of Kaxtmba. I was relieved. Kaxumba had escaped without being noticed. No one could understand what had happened. How could the police in Ondangwa know that Kaxumba was at this village and in a particular home? We xw ere even more puzzled as to how he had escaped. The apartheid government and its puppets regarded Kaxtmba as a rebel, it even called him a terrorist, but he remained our hero and our champion. He was a fighter for justice and a leader of the anti-colonial resistance. 'lo us, he was a man to be admired, helped, and supported. His initial resistance xxas against social injustices imposed on our society by foreign conquerors or oppressors, and against the forces destroying the traditional order of things, such as land distribution and the demarcation of land between the colonisers and the colonised. He was concerned about the exploitative contract labour system, which took men axay from the land and turned them into industrial workers where they received meagre salaries and were treated like slaves. We were xery sad that our son Kaxumba, the spokesperson of our people, became a victim of injustice through being persecuted by the authorities for some acts which they, but not our people, considered criminal. On the other hand, the people believed that KaxumLba x'as invisible and invulnerable. They also believed and xxere convinced that the people's champion could not be defeated. The next morning, while most of us able-bodied men in the villages were busy watering our cattle at the available traditional water points called omifima, Kaxumba made a brief appearance. He did not talk much; his intention was just to hear that everyone was okay after the incident. I was glad to see him unhurt. I was frightened bv the previous day's incident and was becoming suspicious of other people's intentions. My son ran to fetch oshikundu for him; hc drank it all up, thanked us all, urged us not to giVe ip the struggle no matter what it took, and continued his journcy. Kaxumba, son of the Namibian soil, blood of our people's blood; a man who in his determination had shown that bravery and selflessness could one day bring liberty, equality, and fraternity to those who paid the price of liberating their motherland. I was hurt to see him confined to the forest and that the forest was the only place where he could live, walk, and talk froels. You has e no idea how much this feeling hurt, because this was a man who was fighting for our land. After Kaxunba had gone, wc continued watering our cattle and when we had finished, I went straight home. I was disturbed and did not feel well, because also when I listened to the radio, the apartheid government was making public appeals to help find Kaxumba. It was maybe two hours after Kaxumba had left that the police arrived again. They stopped at the local school, went to the clinic, looked around the church, and spoke to some people whom they found on these premises. I wanted to find out what the police wanted this time. I ran to the church where they had parked their cars and were talking to the people. As I arrived, a neighbour w hispered to me that the \\cre still looking for Kaxumba and someone had told them that lie had been there that morning. At the time I arrived, this is what one black policeman, a 'sell out', was telling the people: "Kaxumba has witchcraft in him, chasing him is like chasing a ghost, and I do not understand wh\ our waases continue wasting our time sending uis around to arrest a man who is invisible. The other day we were chasing him and he ran into a big oshana. YOu can imagine a sophisticated army like this chasing one man in the osh/ana of all places. We were just about to close up on him, when suddenly all \\e could see was this huge tree in front of us. None of us shot at him; we all felt this was unnecessary. We could just grab him by the hand. We looked in the tree branches and everywhere, but there was no trace of Kaxumba and no footprints anywhere. What we are sent here to do is an impossible task. We have already lost a police car like this once while chasing Kaxumba somewhere near Odibo. Our boys were tipped off that Kaxumba was addressing a group of people at a particular place near Odibo. They planned to ambush him in the hope of arresting him before he got to the meeting. It seemed as if he detected them timeously and changed direction very sw iftly. Thes ran after him with cars, dogs, and police. They were just about to catch him when, suddenly, a termite hill appeared from nowhere and hit the car. It was too late to stop the car, which was running at full speed. The driver nearlh lost his leg and was bruised by glass splinters from the swindscreen. The car got stuck in the termite hill. The villagers got so scared when asked to help pull outt the police car. The driver was pulled out, but the car was left there stuck under the termite hill. A bulldozer was sent to pull out the car and it was not an easy job. This man syou see is not alone; he has some supernatural powers in him, that is why it is so difficult to arrest him.' \Ve listened to every word the policeman said, and in a matter of days this information was on the lips of c\ cry person I met here at the village and beyond. It was amazing how people related the story to me again when I \\as one of the few wvho had heard it from the policeman's mouth. The police, after nearly a sear of failure in arresting Kaxumba, looked for justifications to cover their incompetence. YOu have to understand, that all the people gathered were in one was or another victims of the colonial injustices, and they regarded Kaxumba as a symbol of resistance to the system of oppression. In Kaxumba they invested their hope of overcoming the colonial powcr. I'he policeman had just confirmed their belief that Kaxumba was invisible. It is not possible for us to forget Kaxunmba kaNdola, his role in the liberation struggle, the challenges he posed to the apartheid regime, and stories people told about his encounters with the colonial oppressors or their rcprescntatives remain strong in the collecti\ c memory of many Namibians. Kaxumba is known and remembered for his refusal to submit, and Ile stood out from his fellow men and women. tte was an ideologist and had a vision for social and political change. I am personally very glad to hear that in Windhoek, President Sam Nujoma built a monument to the menory of those who made sacrifices for the struggle, and that Kaxumba was one of those remembered. I am happy that Kaxumba is remembered today as a symbol of resistance to colonial oppression. Indeed, one could argue that c\ cn the circulation of stories about Kaxumba's defiance of the colonial authorities was in itself a powerful act of resistance within the community. We live here and \re know what we saw and what we heard. So do not be misled, because today even those who were against KaXsumba are trying hard to prove that they were on SWAPO's side. Kaxumba gave his life to the struggle. He was a man who affirmed his life for the struggle between citizens and foreigners, between the colonised and colonisers. He demanded social justice, land, and freedom. Kaxumba was a people's person; a man of honour whose standing in the liberation struggle was a unique, shining example of self-sacrifice and devotion. Kaxumba looked, acted, and spoke as a true liberator of his people. Before the Omugulu gwombashe attack, and before Kaxumba became a wanted person by the police, we held many meetings which the police came to disrupt or to arrest our leaders, especially Kaxumba. While some of us ran away at the first bullet shot b\ the police, Kaxumba did not run. He just stood there. He would start lecturing the police that SWAPO was coming, like it or not, freedom \as coming. Kaxumba pointing his index finger vigorously towards the police: 'You colonisers, do you really think that we are just going to sit around and watch you in silence suppressing our people and exploiting our labour and our country's resources? If you think jailing me will solve your problem, you are living in a wild dream.' He was a man who, when faced with some act of injustice or persecution, did not yield meekly to force or military superiority, but took a path of resistance and justice. That is why you heard people remarking, 'oh, shin'va oshikulo s/a daiwa kwiina anue' [oh, he w as a fighter, though born of his mother and father]. He was a man w ho established the right to be respected by standing LIp and fighting. Kaxumba was a man of peace who ncesr advertised his toughness, but had earned respect by his actions. If you ask me about the Kaxomba kaNdol legend, I can tell you that these legendary stories ,,rc\\ from facts and realities of his life style, dreams, idealism, unselfishness, and his social consciousness to live tip to his social role and responsibility to the people. Kaxumba was a verv articulate man with a remarkable power to persuade. He was a good man, brave and pure by nature. His devotion and courage were a source of inspiration for many of us. By his purity, simplicity, courage and devotion Kaxumba was fitted to become a legend. He lived and died poor, and until today his wife lives as a peasant at Endola, in northern Namibia. Kaxumba was not just a man, but also a symbol. The memory of a purely oral culture perpetuated his fame, and Kaxumba's heroism has survived for forty years, beyond the life span of a generation. The legacs of Kaxumba emerges as a man with a myth and historical symbolism. This is the type of history that is still not so much on record.

Kaxumba is a ss mbol of courage and determination, a voice of the downtrodden, a just hero, and a man \% hose etforts brought independence and social justice to his people. As a man of the peoplc, he operated as an undercurrent force of resistance within the existing social and political structures of the communities. He was a barefoot soldier. The traditional community, with its strong, traditional roots of collectiveness and brotherhood, embraced his ideas of liberty, brotherhood and social justice. If we talk about heroism, Kaxumba is surely a legendary hero. A hero needs bravery for his role, and Kaxumba had proven it. He needs victory, and Kaxumba won many struggles. He needed luck, or in mythical terms, invulnerability, and no man without remarkable natural aptitudes would have survived nearly a year of systematic manhunting by the police, dogs, army, and their paid informants, Kaxumba \\as a man who escaped ambushes and attacks, and the mere fact that he was able to escape and survive against the concentrated army of apartheid and its police, was victory enough for the people. What most people remember about Kaxumba is the exemplary manner of his actions rather then their effects. The 1971/72 Workers' Strikes After the Omugulu gwombashe attack, public meetings calling for resistance to colonialism went quiet, but they surfaced again in 1971/72, when the contract workers led one of the most effective industrial actions that brought about some meaningful changes in the history of the labour system in Namibia. Meme Priskila related her observations of the young workers who downed their tools in demand for their rights and fair labour practices. In 1971/72, the contract workers in many factories and mines went on strike. As a result, many workers were deported to Ow ambo where they continued with their resistance against the contract labour system and demands for the abolition of SWANILA. Some got arrested and jailed. During the same period, many cattle vaccination points in Ovambo were burned down. Many of these young men organised themselves and demanded political, social, and economic changes, in addition to the abolition of the contract labour system. They organised and held public meetings at which several people vere killed when the police disrupted their meetings, for example, the Ondobe killings. Those who escaped were followed to their homes. Many women were fearful for their sons, because several arrests were also made in our neighbourhood. 'Let those cattle vaccination points be burned down, we do not know where the vaccine cornes from, it does not work well with our cattle. Their medicine is killing our cattle. We have some doubts whether our cattle are dying from the vaccines or from the diseases. They said that they are helping us. Yet, our cattle continue to die despite the vaccinations,' said these young men as they travelled through our homes and villages. They also demanded the abolition of the contract labour system and better pay for the workers. It was during 1972, that a lot of women from the community started visiting me again, bringing me their worries about their sons being arrested by the police. I just saw lots of police passing across the osha,ljs near our home during 1972, and saw plenty of men, black young men of all sizes and heights, tall men, short men. They came in one long line, from here up to there. They rode bicycles, all of them. The bicycles were decorated with colourful materials and shining objects. They had several bells and lights. When they arrived at a village, they were beautiful to look at. The hair of these voting men was combed into eshuku, a hairstyle for men with long hair, others wore leather hats similar to cowboy hats.

The wvay they travel led w\as highly imprcssi\ c, all in single file folIwing the leading bicy cle man in front. l'hev only travelled during the da\. If you saw them at night then you knew they were going to burn a cattle vaccination point some'wherc, or that they were heading to a puppet's house. We also learned from experience, that if you saw them travelling around during the night, then yot knew\ already that the police would arrivc the next morning at the village for questioning and arresting. I lowever, what was surprising about the 1971/72 strike, \as that the police seemed to be very well informed about the activities of these young workers. They went around looking for specific persons and households. If the\ asked something from anyone, it was merely the directions to a certain household. Did Kaxumba Have Enemies? Kaxumba did not have many enemies, but there were people in the community who accepted colonialism, exploitation, oppression, and subjection as a norm of human life. Some of these people, though very few, tended to regard him as a disobedient citizen, and treated him like an enemy of the apartheid authority. Some of these people supplied the police with information about the activities of Kaxumba in exchange for money. I was interested to find out whether Kaxumba had any enemies in the community. However, all my respondents became very uneasy and uncomfortable when I asked them whether they knew of any collaborators with the South African apartheid regime, or any informants who were paid to report on Tuhadeleni's activities. I was told to let bygones be bygones, because some of these enemies of the liberation struggle were still alive. I was told that releasing such information was contrary to the policy of national reconciliation and that we must leave the past behind us. I noticed that people were more comfortable talking about issues of common understanding and not about differences, and were very careful not to heap shame on those who collaborated with the colonial regime. However, one day, while on a field trip, I offered a lift to some elderly members of the community going to the clinic to receive their pension pay. While I waited for them to get their money, I chatted to several people. A community member walked to me and said: 'If you still need information about Kaxumba, talk to Tate so-and-so, he was known for reporting Kaxumba to the police, and I am sure he has a lot to tell you" I went immediately to introduce myself to Tate Kalyamupombo,9 and suggested to him that I had a very important matter to discuss with him. He agreed to talk to me after he had received his pension money and bought his groceries. Our discussion was as follows: 'Tate Kalyamupombo, I am interested in the life history of Tate Eliaser Tuhadeleni, and I thought that, as an elderly member of this community, you could share what you knew about Kaxumba with me. I need this information for pure personal interest, because I want to know more about the early period when SWAPO was formed, who the role players were, what their ideas were, what inspired them, and what actually happened: 'Oh, my child, Kaxumba was a great man. I do not have the right words to describe him, but I have not known any person that I can equate with him. He was a man who knew what he wanted, and how to achieve his goals. He was a man of admiration. Ifs ou heard him talk, \'oil could not stop listening. He was an amazing person.I 'Please tell me what you know of him with regard to SWAPO activities?' 'Ooh yes, we started here; we all started here at Ombili. Kaxumba organised meetings for us, many meetings. First it was OPO and later S\VAPO meetings. We went to his meetings, and Real name withheld, e\crone supported him. Most of the meetings were addressed by Kaxumba alone, but he sometimes brought along 7h';c I lcrman, Nlaxwilili, Kaukungwa to talk to us. These were men of great minds.' 'What did Kaxumba say at these meetings?' Thcse things happened a long time ago, and I cannot remember ev erything. He told us to join the struggle and w h\ it \\as important to stand up and fight for our rights. He told us not to he afraid of the Rocs but to join hands in the struggle to liberate our country. He also told us never to forget the Bible story of faith and courage, about David and Goliath.' 'Did everyone join hands in the struggle?' 'I think c\ crvone did, but Nx c were afraid of the white man. You see, Kaxumba had travelled to distant lands. tie had seen many things xw c never sax\. He met people we never met. He knews many things we did not understand. \\e all wanted to support him, but some people were afraid and could not come to terms with the idea of fighting against a white man's guns in the battlefield. It \was not everyone w ho \was ready to die for the struggle as Kaxumba \\as. It was not everyone who could take action against the South African Government, when such actions involved major risks. 'he police did not reward x on for being or joining SW 'AMO, the\, punished you sc\ c eh. It was an act of patriotism but it was not rewarded, and Kaxumba spelled out clearly that the struggle needed sacrifices.' 'I am told that there were people who tried to destroy what Kaxumba was doing, and always reported his activities and his whereabouts to the police. Is there any truth in this?' 'Yes and no. You see, my child, the 1950s and 1960s were very hard times for very many people. The authority misled some people in order to help them destroy what Kaxumba was doing. They did not know any better and did not understand what they were doing. We had our kings, great kings of this land, but the white man wiped them out. Our land was conquered. Our society was left without a leader. Our leaders were killed in the white man's N\ ars. Some chiefs tried, after the death of Nlandume, to continue the resistance, and as a result they were replaced by those who were willing to go along with the South African Government. Those who continued the resistance maybe did it in secret. The exemplary leadership was not there. The other thing, we were a law-abiding people, we listened to what the authorities were saying, and sometimes by the time we realised the consequence of our indifference, the damage \ as done. But despite all this, we tried alxway s to support Kaxumba whenever \c could. Some people only realised \vhat Kaxuiba was trying to tell uIs in the 1970s, wx hen many young Namibians left the country to go into exile. There \\as a time wxhen in every household there \\as a child who had crossed the border. Our priests were the first who started to pray for our children who had crossed the border, and even they had to do this discretely. Some people onkx saw the light after independence. YoU must also remember that some people were selfish in nature, and not prepared to make sacrifices. If Vot, went along with the South African Government, nothing happened to you and your family. In some cases, people xwcrc paid money to work against the struggle.' 'Were you here when Kaxumba was arrested?'

'Yes, I was here, but you must remcmber, Kaxumrna was arrested mans times and ,lleme Priskila and her children suffered a lot from the police. She wvas beaten, pushed, and asked many questions about her husband. Even when the\ arrested him, they still came to her house to harass her.' 'Did the community help Meme Priskila and her children during these difficult times?' '1 can sas that everyone wanted to help, but mans were afraid of being seen at the house of someone labelled bs the government as a terrorist. They feared to be reported to the police. Those who had guts, helped her secretlh. It was only after Bishop Dr I)umenf's visit to the Tuhadeleni's home in 1974, that the fear of the police subsided a bit. ,leme Priskila is a \ ery strong woman, she sowed not to run from the police and if they dared kill, they could do it in her home. 'l'he struggle had made a man out of this \woman.' Tate Kalyamupombo added: 'The details regarding the programme, vision, ideas, plans, and strategies of the decolonisation process championed by Kaxumba were not made public. Only a few people had access to such information. This \\as necessary, because you cannot win the war by placing all your tactics and strategies in the open, especially when fighting an enemy like the apartheid regime. There was al\\ ays a danger that the enemy might get hold of your military plans before soi even started putting them into action. In most cases members had to memorise everything by heart, and wrhat thes could not memorise, they had to forget. \Ve were not encouraged to put things on paper, because a written text could land in the hands of your enemy and bring you trouble. Today, when I recall what happened in the 1950s and the 1960s, I have to scratch my head to call back memories of this period. The incidences of the police invading people's homes, and conducting searches without telling us what they were searching for, taught us many lessons. The police took with them anything they wanted, especially written documents, letters found in the searched homes. Any written information about the struggle had to be accounted for to the police.'

VI The Hero Falls into the Enemy's Net Kaxuniba's arrest was a subject that all the respondents were eager to tell me about, especially the circumstances leading to his arrest and why it occured. However, I could hardly find anyone willing to take me to the site of the arrest. I believe people knew the house, but for some unknown reason they would not release the name of the household owner or the name of the village to me. I had respondents promising to take me to the site, but every time I tried to go, I was given sickness and funerals as the reasons for not going. As these reasons became too many, I decided to find this information from documentary sources instead of depending entirely on human memories. I turned to the lengthy court records of the Pretoria Supreme Court of 1967/68 on the Tuhadeleni trial. According to these records, Tuhadeleni was arrested on 7 March 1967 in the house of Tate Jairus Konus (now deceased) near Ondangwa. Once I had the name, everything else was easy, and several people offered to accompany me or rather to ensure that I get there and back safely. I had to disappoint a lot of people by turning their offers down, but I was grateful to the councillor who took me personally and introduced me to members of the Konus family and their neighbours. Hush-Hush How did Kaxumba get to the Konus family and how did he get arrested? Tate Andreas Shivute, headman of Okaloko said: I did not know Eliaser Tuhadeleni well, but I have impressive memories from a brilliant meeting he addressed with the workers in Walvis Bay, in 1959, after his return from South Africa and the many stories I heard of him from other workers. Johannes Nakanvala, popularly known as Shitorondo, is the one who brought Kaxumba to this village and to me personally. So, one day, I was preparing myself to leave the house and that was when Shitorondo, my neighbour, arrived at my house with a face full of mixed feelings. He told me he had an urgent problem, one which could not wait. So I staved on to listen to him. 'I have a problem on my hands,' he said. 'Kaxumba is here and he has been around for a while. NMx concern is that friends have sent me a warning that our secret is out and that the police have a suspicion that Kaxumba is at my house. What can I do if the police come and find him there? I cannot fight the police and do not even have means to do so. If I keep him further, the police might come and find him in mx house. I do not know where and how to hide him, advise me what to do.' In my response, I said: '\i, this matter is a tough one, because the political situation is going from bad to worsc, and is even made more complicated by the emerging black Boers who live amongst uIs. Wc see the police helicopters constantly patrolling our area as we are only four kilometres awN ay from the town of Ondangva.' I therefore agreed with him that he should not keep KaxUmba any further than he had already risked, and that we find him a place which was a bit isolated from the social interaction of people. The plan was to move him away from those busy places. And so, Shitorondo returned home, but came back in the evening. He had found a okalum/o, a female-headed household, which looked a bit run-down and did not have much status. This okaumbo w uld not attract anyone's attention, let alone the idea that Kaxumba could be hiding there, because it had the appearance of absolute poverty. One would immediately think that the residents w ould not have enough to eat, let alone be able to feed other people. This okaumbo was situated next to my homestead and Shitorondo N\as concerned that they may not have enough to eat, so, he asked me to help out. I could not help Shitorondo an further, because I was already on my way back to Walvis Bay as a contract worker. So, I left him alone to take care of Kaxumba's security. I was afraid to inform e\ en 11N, wife, bCcause I was worried that women like talking and that she might tell her friends and things would get out of hand. KaXumba came here from the southern part of Ondonga. Vc knew where he \\as through people's talking, because he was much talked about. If \M1 went to any CLca shop at the time when Kaxumha was a wanted man by the police, you just had to listen to the people talking: 'Kaxumba is a supernatural being, he is just there at Ashixugo village, but the police are wasting their time looking for him, because they can never find him, he changes into objects.' So, we who knew deep down that Kaxmba was human, just like everyone else, did not try to correct the myth, because it kept alive people's hope and belief that their leader's supernatural powers would eventually overcome the colonial power. Since Tate Shivute was not actually around to witness the events around Kaxumba's arrest, I also spoke to his wife, Meme Loini Shivute, to hear what she remembered of Kaxumba's arrest and this is what she said: 'Mv husband left for Walvis Bay as a contract worker without telling me that Kaxumba was in the neighbourhood. He knew for a fact that people in the community were already talking that Shitorondo was hiding Kaxumba. He would not trust me with this information. I still can not understand why he did not tell me. He later admitted that he feared that women had soft hearts and would speak out, but as the events hasve shown, this \was the biggest mistake he made. The man whom they trusted, and who supposedly had a harder heart than women, took all the information to the informer, who in turn reported Kaxumba to the police, while the women knew, but kept the secret. So, when my husband left for his contract work in the south, here at home, I kept on running into people asking and inquiring, 'Ya, we hear that there is a stranger hidden in your village by Shitorondo and Kapugulo. Who is this person?' At that time I had no idea, although from Shitorondo and my husband's movements, I noticed that they had kept silent in ny presence and were deeply conversing as soon as I left them. So, after being openly asked these questions, I decided to go to Kapugulu at the old lady's house to find out the truth for myself, and there I found Kaxumba. He was confined to a small hut where he spent most of his time during the day. I spoke to him. This old lady lived in absolute poverty with her nephew Jairus Konus [Kapugulul and could not afford food. Kapugulu \\ as kno\ n around here as a SWAPO man. It was because of his SWAPO political work that he was expelled from his contract work in Windhoek, and deported to Owambo withott his belongings in 1966. He was banned from entering the south. So, they told me that Kapugulu took Kaxumba to Shitorondo's house at Okatale every night for meals. I thought this was too dangerous and immediately offered to cook their supper ecery night. This is how we stayed with our Kaxumba in silence, while people rumoured around speculating on his whereabouts. When I saw Kaxumba at that house I felt heartbroken, his clothes where beginning to wear and tear off, and seriously needed to be replaced. We could not go to Endola to fetch his clothes. So one evening, Shitorondo and KapUguli went to Okatale to buV him new clothcs. They returned with the normal shirt size, but the trousers were too big. In the end, they approached one of the people they trusted, a shop owner at Okatale, for some clothes. lie seemed very glad to assist, because he apparently had a very high regard for Kaxumba and demanded to be taken to him immediately. He insisted he wanted to see the people's person. lie was brought to the old lady's house to see Kaxumba that same Ck cning, upon his Own insistence, and fron there he did not go to sleep. He went straight to ()ndangw a to report Kaxumba to his uncle, who was working as an informer for the Boe,,s. In the morning, the war started. The Boeis arrived with cars and helicopters. I heard the shooting and then silence. Kaxumba was arrested and then we heard that he had died. This question of our society believing that women cannot hold a secret was unfortunate. We \\cre not really countcd, you see, women were equated to children. Now if someone compares you to a child and \(u know as a mother that the child will bite you on the breast while stickling, you will stop feeding it or gi\ c it a slap on the bum, then it will start crying and run to \'O, even if it was soU who has just beaten it. So y ou see, they did not trust me because I \\as a wonian, they went to trust the man who reported Kaxumba straight to the police. The man who reported Kaxumba is still alive and around. His name is Sherry. We can direct you to his shop or house. But I tell you, as I stand here today, I fail totally to understand the nature of this particular man. He pretended to be SWAPO, attended all S\VAPO meetings, vet he reported any SWAP() person he came across to the police. The year \lartti Ahtisaari [Special Representative for the I 'nited Nations Transition Assistance Group, IN'IAGI came here, Sherry was one of the SWAPO delegation that went to meet him, wasing the SWAPO flag up high in the sky. Nowadays, young people tell him straight, 'You are not a true SWAPO you are a fake.' There were also black policemen recruited into the South Africa Police Force, who did not believe in apartheid. It \sas these policemen that revealed the informers, because to report a SWAPO man you had to leave your full name, identity number, village, and name of your headman with the police so that they could trace you later. This ssas how we found out who reported Kaxumba to the police.' Tate and Meme Shivute led me to the house of Tate Jairus Konus where Kaxumba was arrested. This house is now occupied by Kuku Helvi Namupala, who was a caretaker of the old lady at the time when Kaxumba was there. She too had something to say. Kaxumba was arrested at about 8.30 on that terrible morning of 7 .March 1967. We were busy in the field wceding our omahagu, when a black policeman arrived breathless on a bicycle. This is what he told us. 'I was at the police station this morning, when a man came in to report that Kaxumba kaNdola lives in your home and that he was here. The police sent a telegram to Grootfontein requesting more police, the army, and helicopters. The man is still at the police station waiting for the reinforcements to arrive from Grootfontein and to bring them here. If Kaxumba is really in sour household, you must advise him to leave without delay.' The policeman got on his bicycle and left. Shocked by the news, we rushed into the house to inform Kaxumba about this terrible news. Unfortunately; before Kaxumba could cross the omahanu field, the two helicopters were already flying overhead and the police cars were zooming in all directions. The whole thing happened very fast. We went on our knees and started to pray, \\ c prayed for Kaximba's life. This was one of the most devastating experiences I have ever known. Why should it be our home that should end the life of Kaxumba? There \ crc so man\' worries and so many questions that we had to carry for so many scars.

The helicopters landed in thc olm;ahani ,u field, our crops where bhos n out of the soil and started flying in different directions. The police cars wcrc running over our field. Therc \\ as nothing for us to say or do. We were scared and terrified. Our mouths went dr\; no one said a word. The soldiers, police, and dogs ill rushed out to where Kaxumba and Kapuugulu were standing. Kaxnmba made a symbol of power with his ptpca across his chest. \c feared what would happen. They jumrpd on Kaxtunba, took his Pepci'a from him and asked ficccly: 'Where is Kaxumba? Show us \\here Kaxunba is.' One policeman pulled out a photograph from his pocket saying, 'Look this is Kaxumba, a giant ofa man, huge and tall, not this skinny, little man.' The\ did not want to belie\c that lie s\as the Kaxumba, so they attacked him physically and kicked him around. The werc looking for Kaxurnba himself, the giant of a man as their informants and photographs told them. They did not want to belie\ e that this tall, slender man was indeed Kaxumba. Other communit\ members arrived afterwards, and this included our priest. We prayed andi prayed until there was just silence. The police returned to Oshakati in a very jubilant mood. Kaxuniba was taken to Oshakati police station where lie \\'as interrogated and tortured. 'You are the leader of all these people who were at Ornugulu gwombashe: they are your followers and xour children. No\ that we have got you, sse shall show xou that here is not child's play. It must be clear, daiij', weet. hieris nie .iou ma sefriike s/aapkamer ,iie (N ou should know that this is not \'our mother's fucking bedroom).' The arrest of Kaxumba was a big victory for apartheid. Radio stations were filled with the best propaganda available, that a leader of SWAPO had been arrested. White families were apparently flow n in from Tsumeb and Grootfontein to come and s icw the 'terrorist leader' held at Oshakati prison. Kaxumba was ptt on exhibition for days. Upon arrival at Oshakati, he was immediately taken to the torture chamber and swas given electric shocks. The black policemen who saw Kaxunba after he was tortured, brought terrifying news to the communit about his critical condition, and expressed doubts whether he was going to survive the torture. His body, especially his head, was swollen to a size difficult to explain. His tongue was swollen due to the electric shocks and could not fit in his mouth. It became like a long black thing sticking out of his mouth. He could not talk because his tongue was swollen and dry and had changed its colour to black. He also had long hair and a long beard at the time of his arrest, because he had no opportunity to shave. To the colonial officers and their families who came to view Kaxumba, this sight represented a perfect image of what they called 'a terrorist'. The white officials and their families seemed amused and took pleasure in viewing the exhibit, insulting, and cursing him. The black policemen told shocking stories at their homes about the torture Kaxumba and his comrades vent through, and the physical and verbal abuse. Suddenly, there was silence about Kaxumba. He was secretlx removed from Oshakati, but no one knew where he was, not even his family. Memories and Remembrance Kuku Helvi Namupala continued: We did not want to forget Kaxumba; he stayed on our minds till the day he was released. During the UNTAG days of 1989, Kapugulu went to all meetings in an attempt to find Kaxumba and to bring him home here, in the hope that when we saw him alive our hearts would rest. Unfortunately, Kapugulu died without bringing Kaxunba home. What we have in memories of Kaxumba is that Nlarula tree over there. It was the first thing that had grown out of the soil in our omahangu field after Kaxumba's arrest. So we named it Kaxumba. This tree, as you can see, grew into a very huge and shady tree, and to us this \\as a sign that the spirit of Kaxumnba was as strong as ever. This held our belief that Kaxumba was alive, despite what was much rumourcd that the police had killed him, which helped us cope with our everyday life and to rcconcilc with our inner spirit, which constantly pondered about Kaxumba. Can .ou imagine how devastating it would have been for us if that tree did not bear leaves or fruit or if it had hoarfrost? This was our secret that helped us cope firstly, with the fact that indeed a fellow Naitibian reported Kaxumba to the colonising army and police, and secondly, the shock of the police, cars, dogs, helicopters that stormed our household that morning of the arrest. Anyway, as \otu can see for yourself, this tree is still going strong and it is called Kaxumba to this da\. When the police rushed in here to arrest Kaxumba, they also took Kapugulu with them. If grandmother and I had been men, they would most probably have taken us with as well. But since women were anyway not regarded as anything, they did not even ask a thing from us. So anyway, Kapugulu went and returned the next day, and when he got home he was so angry, so sad. He took a spade, went to the spot where Kaxumba stood when the Boers grabbed him and started digging a w atcr well. He dug and dug until he reached the water level, then he fenced off the well, fixed the door and left it alone. This well is called Kaxumba; unfortunately it was only Kapugulu who understood the symbolic meaning of this well. He called it Kaxumba. He looked after it, he weeded any grass that grew there, he looked after the fence. When his ban to the south was lifted, he would go on contract work, and upon his return, this well was alwvays the first thing he attended to. No one drew water from it, but Kapugulu made sure it had water at all times. Kapugulu died in 1997, but the thorny bush fence around the well is still intact to this day 2002. I do not look after the well, but I just feel that it should be left as it is, because it is carrying our Kaxumba memories. I am now very old, but I hope whoever comes to live here after me will remember to retain these heartbreaking memories of this homestead. Meeting Shitarondo The journey continued to the house of Tate Johannes Nakanyala (Shitorondo), where we found his beautiful wife, Ndamono ya Shimwandi, waiting for our arrival. This was how she welcomed us, in the full colours of the Kaxumba kaNdola cultural group, of which she is the leader. She chanted his name 'Kaxumba kaNdola', and ululated and danced skilfully. I wished I had had a video camera. When she chanted to an on-looking audience, she was having a very deep personal conversation with Kaxumba himself; we were the background scenery. This moving scene happened just as we arrived and I did not have my recording equipment ready. So by the time I dug out my tape recorder from in between my books and papers, this is what I managed to record: \VI1,IIIIAIl[ 1,I 1. J \VIL I,11I111II11 ()onbalc dhiihaka inzipasa lils.tagula son)Okashandja ntnankulo ( ii rh ig\N Lipo kuNelhale I )hunka k()katale kuJohni yaKito ()niv dh1a thig\sa po ku\,inolo ()ndola ndjio J)h i ninge dha\ lartina ()inangala opombandai ()onmcnmc I oshilongo shctu lilala vio(iombuli N. oh)bhab dheCi I\ tn Ondola ndjoo N"Ka ksvaniilwa \Wililililili'" ( )l,axrnba ka\dla. Asongif praisc oKaxiniba After being received so majestically, we were taken into an aged building where we found Shitorondo koNd,lj sung in pocri- f-rm. waiting. He told me the following:

Eliaser Thadeleni was a friend of mine. Actually our relationship w as much stronger than the word friendship, because it was established upon real social and political challenges that we shared. We both believed in bringing about political change to our country. Even when Kaxumba went to ()muigulhu gW0onmbashe, he visited me regularly. I was scheduled to go to Omugulu gwombashe for training after his group graduated. The week xC ' were supposed to go for our training, I went to Ondangwa to look for some household equipment. As soon as I arrived at the cuca shops near the main entrance to Ondangwa, I noticed Kaxumba and wodered what he was doing there. I immediately went to talk to him. I was shocked to hear from him that Omugulu gwombashe had been attacked and that the loer- xxere searching everywhere for all the survivors. We heard on the radio that OmugulIh gwombashe had been attacked, but weren't sure. I was saddened by the news and did not know what to do. Kaxumba told me that he was going with Ella to Iimpompo village, where he would stay for a while to think through what had happened and what further action could be taken. So, I returned home not knowing what to do or say. Several months passed and I did not hear from Kaxumba and Toivo yaToivo got arrested, but local people kept on saying that Kaxumba was supernatural and that the police Would not find him. It was in February 1967, I was at my cuca shop at home, \\ hen Kaxumba suddenly appeared. I recognised him immediately, so I brought him into the house before anyone could recognise him, because he was not only a wanted man by the police, but also on e\ crv1body's tongue. Every person in our community knew Kaxumba, if not by physical appearance then by name. After several months of living here and there, moving from house to house, village to village and being systematically hunted down by the police, Kaxumba decided to come to me. I accepted him wholeheartedly and we discussed some security arrangements. In the homestead, we had a brick house built with a \ery strong wooden ceiling. So we made a plan that Kaxumba should stay there between the roof and the ceiling, because there were too many people around our house, mainly because of the cuca shop, but also for other social reasons. Kaxumba stayed with us for about a month, when rumours started to go around that Kaxumba was in my house. People whispered to me that I should be careful; the police were after me, because they suspected that Kaxumba was here. I was beginning to worry and decided to find another place for Kaxumba. S(o I approached Andreas Shivute, our headman, but a SWAPO member as well. We pondered about sex eral options, but I later found a solhtion, that we take him to the okaumbo of an old lady, the mother of Jairus Konus [Kaptgulu], where no one \ould suspect anything. In the evening, I took Kaxumba to the house of this old lady where he stayed for about three weeks before he got arrested. The plan was that he stay there during the da, but walk over to my house cvery night for super. This was what we had been doing day in and day Out until ,/nme Loini found us out and offered to assist. One afternoon of the same week that Kaxumba left, the police arrixed at m\ house looking for me. They asked me: ')o you know a man called Eliaser 'lihadeleni?' I said, 'No'. 'You do not know him?' 'No', I said. While two policemen were busy asking me these questions, others went around my house, from room to room, searching maybe for Kaxumba, because they did not tell me what they were searching for. 'Ilow is it possible that you do not know who Eliaser is, when it is you who are hiding him around here?' 'I do not know him', I maintained. 'Oohoo, Huumm.' And so they left. That night, I did not wait for Kapuguh and Kaxumba to come, I went there myself and warned them to be careful, because the police had come to mx house and inquired about

"l A,/ /o l," , L .\blI A', I , Ii / All i!, z.liil ak;l I, I /ILt A X l l /, I / him. So, we were being watched, I told them. We continued with our lives, and so we planned to get Kaxumba some new clothes and went to Ondangwa, but bought the wrong trouser size. Kaxumba realised he had a friend, Sherry, who owned a shop that sold men's wear. So, Kapugulu and I went that night to fetch the trousers from Sherry, who insisted on coming to greet the people's person, as this was apparently very important. So, he came. When we entered the hut where Kaxumba was staying, Sherry refused to sit down or talk to Kaxumba, and left without explaining why. And so, as we later learned, he went straight to his uncle, who went straight to the police and reported Kaxumba. In the morning, the police, army and dogs arrived, and Kaxumba was arrested. Interrogation Kaxumba in one of his recovered notebooks wrote: I was arrested on the 7 March 1967. I was taken to the police station at Oshakati. A huge compound that was fenced off from the rest of the community, it had a big gate that opens and closes to control the movement of cars and people going in and out. Inside the compound was a brick house where the white policemen lived and nearer to the gate was a small zinc house for black policemen. There was a barrack-like construction for the prisoners, with an interrogation room and a torture chamber where I was interrogated and tortured with electric shocks by very brutal policemen.

It is sery difficult to describe the electric torture the. applied in Oshakati, because the first thing I felt was as if someone forcefully hit mny head with two big objects, all hitting at the same time from left and right and at a very fast speed. I just heard po\s from the left and pow from the right side of my head and then do- do-doo and oy whole body just felt frozen. This lasted for maybe three minutes and then they stopped and said: 'Speak or die, we are not here to play with you, old man.' They applied the electric shock again and I cannot remember what happened. I just woke Lip to see that I was lying on the floor, while I had been tortured seated in an electric chair. I do not know \what they did to me while in a coma. I only remember waking up, feeling dizzy, and under a lot of pain all oer my body. I was under a lot of pain and by the following morning ever\ part of my body ached and was swollen. They did not give me any medical treatment although they could see that their torture was giving me health problems and I was in pain. I \\as flown to Pretoria in a military Dakota plane where I was jailed and kept in solitary confinement until the trial. At the time of my arrest, I had long hair. During the police interrogation in Pretoria, they' would tie my hair to the rope that was hanging up on the ceiling of the interrogation room. This was done so that the hair was tied to the rope while my body hung up in the air. The police formed a circle around me and begun beating with fists, hitting, kicking with shoes, and boxing my body especially at soft parts, for example, the stomach was their faVourite place. When they were done with me, they would just leave me hanging until the hair or the skin broke off and my body fell to the ground. There were several hardships that we had to endure while in prison. Tuhahadeleni was kept in solitary confinement from his arrest on 7 March 1967 until the 15 June 1967, when he appeared in the Magistrates' Court and was taken to join his comrades." As a man who was used to being amongst people, one can understand him when he wrote: I found this prison very depressing, because we were kept away from any normal social environment. There was no noise except the warders moving, there was no noise of children or people laughing or talking politely, but only insults from the police. I left Pretoria without hearing the noise of birds. Isolation is very lonely and quiet, and the quietness was \ery disturbing for me. There was no one to talk to. When food was brought in, it was pushed in through the door and there was no talking. There was no toilet but a bucket was put in the cell. The prison cell was very small, it was impossible to sit properly and stretch my legs. This isolation period was one of the severest of all the hardships endured by us. Even after these conditions were lifted, I found it difficult to walk properly after being put in a small cell for weeks. I also had problems recovering my voice after several days in isolation without anyone to talk to. I felt as if my voice was not coming out. During my research, I spoke to ten survivors who were with Tate Tuhadeleni in Pretoria and in Robben Island prison, and this is what they told me about their interrogation and torture. The police who interrogated us sometimes arrived drunk. They would beat us on the feet, because the feet were stubborn enough to walk a long distance from Tnzania to Namibia. Some of our comrades such as, Jonas Shimweefeleni, James Hamukwaya and Efraim Kaporo were beaten so badly on the head that blood and later on pus sas coming out of their ears. It was frightening to look at them. If you refused to talk or give the information they wanted they Would say to you: 'We have an I1 instrument that can help you to remember everything.' They would blindfold, handcuff, and NAN. V 60,s rcai, ias ask you to walk. So you walked and walked and walked, sometimes it felt as if you were 1967/(,S, Box 4. 5 . w alking on a sloped surface. You couldn't see where you were taken. They untied your hands, ordered \oun to remove all \'our clothes, and to sit down. There they began applying electric shocks, sometimes the\- applied torture on oOur toes, penis, anus, and fingers. It was difficult to know what else they did, becaulse this type of torture always knocked ron out, and when Ou woke up you didn't know \\- here you were. The beating and kicking were also a normal greeting during the interrogation. One of our comrades, Jonas Shimweefeleni, lost his life due to kidney failure resulting from the beatings and kicking. His metabolic system became completely dysfunctional and the prison authorit\ refused him medical treatment until he died. It was difficult to understand w hv there was so much hatred. \Whcn our trial was drawing closer, the torture ceased and we were allowed to wash and talk to a law\ er. Our trial was called Die Staat Teen Eliasel Tiuhadeleni ell 36 An1der [The State versus Eliaser Tuhadeleni and 36 Others], Tuhadeleni being the number one accused in our indictment trial. The Trial I could not interview Tate Kaxumba about his trial due to his sudden death in 1997. I therefore discussed the trial over long hours with comrades who were arrested, deported, tried, and sentenced together with him. What is reflected in this section is, therefore, Kaxumba's experience as told by his comrades who were tried with him at the same 1967/68 trial in Pretoria. I conducted several interviews and greatly benefited from the recording sessions and group discussions with the Namibian, ex-Robben Island prisoners during 2001. My information was collected as follows: I had one-to-one interviews and follow-up interviews with Tate Andimba Toivo yaToivo and Helao Shityuwete. I attended a two day workshop organised by the Robben Island Committee of the National Museum of Namibia in August 2001, where the ex-Robben Island prisoners told of their personal experiences and in some cases also made reference to Tate Kaxumba. I stayed for one week on Robben Island during May 2001 with a group of fifteen Namibian, ex-Robben Island prisoners. They shared their arrest, detention, torture, trial, and imprisonment experiences with me. Thay also gave me a personal tour of the former jail, explaining and showing where they had been kept, when and for how long, their daily routine in prison, what work they were forced to do and where, the food they were given, the rights to receive visitors, and the treatment they got from the prison authorities. Below is a shortened version of the account, as told to me by the Namibian, ex- Robben-Island prisoners. 7 ite Kaxumba was arrested in Nlarch 1967 and kept in detention until June 1967, when we made our first appearance in court. We did not know anything about human rights nor had \wC understood properly the importance of legal representation. \Ve were born and raised as colonised people. \Ve had no experience of life in a free society as we have it today. We were given hell in the South African apartheid jail, where they locked us incommunicado from the rest of the world. The police did not want uIs to see or be seen by anyone, but themselhes only. Our first appearance in court since our arrest was on 27 June 1967, when we were summoned to the Nlagistrates' Court in Pretoria. You must remember that some of our comrades had been arrested in larch 1966, and had been detained in jail under very harsh conditions without trial. At this first trial, we did not have a lawyer. So we informed the court that we had been arrested, illegally deported to South Africa, where we did not know anyone, kept incommunicado, and given no opportunity to even contact our faimilies and friends, who could ma\ be help uIs arrange legal representatives. We requested that our trial be held in Windhock, but the magistrate said that the South African (oernment's order to hold the trial in Pretoria could not be challenged or changed. So the trial proceeded and was heard by a judge w ithoit a jury. After the trial, we were brought back to prison by a \or\ jubilant police force that mocked uIs that we \were all going to be hanged. This same message became a new song of our prison guards who also reminded us daily of our fate. One day, a man by the name of Advocate Joel Carlson was brought to uis. lie said that he \\ as a lawyer and that he wanted to represent us in court. After we had been held under x crs harsh conditions by the \\hite policemen and \\,ere being tormented by them for long and lonesome days and months it was difficult to trust another white man offering a helping hand. Although \\e did not ha\ e anv choice, the decision to accept him and to trust him with who we w ere, and for him to represent our lives that \\ere hanging on a very thin thread, was critical and complicated. \dvocate Carlson \ as determined to do his job, and he must have realised the dilemma we were in determining whether or not he was genuinely on our side. It did not take us long to realise that Advocate Carlson was genuine. He spoke to us with respect and with human dignity at all times. He w as open with us, and told us what he knew and did not know of our case, and that he was willing to work with us and to represent us in court. He started working with us both on the legal side, but also on our spiritual side. He \Nas the first non- aggressive human being to speak to us since our arrest. He spoke to us as a group firstly, and later on an individual basis. On 7 August 1967, we made our first appearance in the Pretoria Supreme Court, and this time we had our lawyer, Advocate Joel Carlson. On the day of our trial, each and everyone of us was given a big placard that was pinned onto our shirts on the chest. The placard bore a number big enough to be seen from a distance. These numbers replaced our names, for example, Tate Kaxumba, being accused Number One, carried a placard with a number 1, Nankudhu, Number Two. They were called by that number instead of by name. So we were taken from prison, bundled into a mesh-wired san and escorted to the Supreme Court in Pretoria. The prison authorities and the court referred to us by these numbers and not by our names. The prison authorities told us that this was the formality for the non-% hite accused. So we were in a van that was escorted by two armoured cars with soldiers armed to the teeth. When we arrived at the Supreme Court, wc were ordered out of the \an and escorted into some kind of a cage that was placed in the yard of the Supreme Court. As we looked around the courtyard, we saw more armoured cars, soldiers, policemen, and dogs all over the place. Just before the court proceedings started, we were directed to walk through a corridor of lined-up dogs, and armed guards, policemen, and soldiers. We did not understand the reason for the display of military power, and wondered whether this \was just the apartheid way of sending a chill down the spine of their opponents? Every morning we were brought into the courtroom handcuffed. As wc entered the courtroom, a very unfriendly crowd of audience greeted us by shouting at us that 'terrorists must be hanged'. We were not terrorists, but we were fighting for the independence of our country. Inside the court itself, we had to walk again through a corridor of lined-tip military personnel armed with guns loaded with real bullets. The South African Government organised its supporters to attend the trial and to condemn LIs. So the whole court was packed with people who were there to insult us, and in so many words to demonstrate to uIs that they hated and despised us. We were in a foreign country where we did not know anybody. We were not

12 Since June 27, and until Noember II, L Vfarcarried exten'iie article% about the trial if the 37 Namibians% n trial in Pretoria, Although it a, nit possible to can through all the South Afrcan new spapers to read what they moite about the trial, Tht SNtl newispaper %% rote extensiveli about the trial, highlighting the physical appeirane of the accused, thc ...iestiin , 4 the legitimacy of Siith Africa toi tr\ the actused, the defence team. the court priuccdings and the judgement. allowed to write letters home to our country and to people to tell them where we were and what we were going through. Wc \\ere not even allowed to invite our families from Namibia to attend our trial. The only hope \wc had was in each other. Our lawyer was a gift from God. I Ic tried to play the role ofa social worker in order to help us cope with the insults and abuses froll) our hostile captors and their mob. Our charge sheets were read and the trial begun. Our lawyer tried his utmost to prevent us from being sentenced to death, because this was what the prison guards hammered into our heads e crN day in prison. The state lawy 'rers also threatened that they had over 200 state witnesses from Namihia who were ready to testify against us. We were not treated as political prisoners, although the circumstances that led to our arrest were political in nature. The Terrorism Act, Act No. 83 of 1967, the law under which they tried us, was passed one-and-ahalf yrears after the arrest of many of us. The court called uIs terrorists, although we were not terrorists. We were freedom fighters, fighting for the independence of our country, and fighting to restore the dignity of our people that had been taken away from them by the apartheid South African Government. Appearing in court \\as not an easy thing for us, and apart from the fact that the court referred to us as terrorists, we were presented in court in the most dehumanising manner. We were bare-footed and wore torn clothes. Appearing in public with torn clothes was culturally very humiliating to us, because this was a reflection of a person's mental state. We realised that our captors deliberately brought us to court in rags, because when they arrested us, they found us properly dressed and in possession of decent clothes in our bags. They took them away from us, because they apparently were not part of the prison uniform. We felt really uncomfortable to appear in court and in public \\earing torn clothes and no shoes. This kind of appearance was intended to be a projection of our inner spirit, and we were not comfortable with this. The way we were dressed, and our general appearances represented to the spectators the terrorist picture with which we were labled. lowards midway in our trial, everything was getting hea vy, both for us and for our defence lawyer, but we did not want to overburden Advocate Carlson, who was also struggling to raise money for our defence. After the death of one of our comrades, Comrade Efraim Kaporo, on 12 October 1967, we were surprised when that evening the police came to our cell with new clothes and shoes. They handed them to us saying that our lawyer wanted us to wear them. This was a boost to our spirits. We \\ere excited to wear these nice clothes and shoes, and to appear in court the next morning dressed in a presentable manner. The court authoritN and the audience watched us with mouths wide open. They appeared to be surprised with discomfort towards us. The audience had always gazed on us very aggressively, but that morning their gazing \\ as aggrevated by some kind of anger. The atmosphere was electrified and it felt as if they would jump on us and eat us up alive or tear us apart. Our lawyer was summoned to explain from where we got the clothes. He told them: 'It would be better to ask the defendants directly, so that they can tell the whole courtroom from whom the' received the clothes.' We told them the prison warders had handed uIs the clothes. They got very upset and left our lawver and us alone. We no\- understood more clearly that we were brought to court purposefully dressed in torn clothes. The court proceeded. The next day our lawyer showed uIs the newspaper, wre saw the people attending the trial appeared shocked with mouths wide open and a quote from one of them saying something like, 'those terrorists wcrc dressed decently and looked like real people." 1 (4(

The other thing that hurt us most \\ as that we were put through the trial, as if we did not have roots in the communities we had come from. Eight of us \\crc under arrest since NIarch 1966, soon after our return from abroad, and wc \ cre kept in detention without trial until Jtne 1967, when we appeared in the Mlagistrates' (Court for the first time. \t the time of our trial our relatives did not know\ where wc wCrC, and w hether \vc were dead or alive, imprisoned, or in exile. We \were not givcn any right to speak, \\ ritc, or phone anv of our relatives, nor could our relatives attend our trial. lan\ of us, who were arrested upon arrival in Namihia. had no opportunity to visit any of our relatives to let them know ofour return to the country. Our relativ es thought that vc \\ere still in exile. Even during the trial period, we could not speak, write, or phone home to Namibia. The trial was very tough, but our lawyer tried to s.i c us from receiving the death penalty, because this \as what apartheid w anted, to hang us in silence. In his book, No Neutral Ground, Advocate Carlson devoted a whole chapter to the trial of the Namibians in which he writes: Eliaser'luhadeleni w\as the first defendant named in the indictment trial. He was a thin, wiry man in his fifties, who had acti el\ participated in the guerrilla camp that had been raided by police helicopters. He had managed to escape and spend the next year avoiding the police net. Finally he was caught and brought to Pretoria for interrogation. When I saw him, he too wvas convinced that there was nothing he or I could do to avoid the death sentence being imposed on him. One morning speaking through one of the teachers, he took me aside to tell me that the guilt of all the defendants was on him. He wanted to take the blame for all of them and he was prepared to be hanged immediately. He asked me to tell this to the security police so that, having hanged him, they Would then free the innocent men among the thirty-six. He insisted that this was a Christian wav and that he wo-as prepared to carry this cross... He was a simple man, a peasant, who had only completed fourth grade. He was always very serious and concerned., The ex-prisoners said: Our comrade, Efraim Kaporo, who died during the trial, was removed from the courtroom to the hospital, probably already dead. We were later told of his death. The court hearing proceeded as usual, and ironically we were not even allowed to give our comrade a proper burial, or at least attend his burial. We had to stiffer grief over our brother in humiliation and in a suffocating environment. They could have at least allowed us to escort otr comrade to his final place of rest. It is not clear what the apartheid government did with the bodies of our comrades who died in jail in Pretoria. We are very grateful to our lawyer, Joel Carlson, as well as the observers from international organisations and the churches. We believe that our sentences \ ould hav e been far worse if the efforts by the churches and others had not been made. Before Advocate Carlson \ as brought to talk to us the South African Police and prison warders threatened us daily saying that: 'You are all going to be hanged.' The way the police treated ts, especially after the death of Verwoerd, was very interesting. They said: 'Vcrwoerd who was protecting you is now dead, we shall now deal with you accordingly by hanging all of you.' So we can say with 13 complete confidence, that without the presence of the international organisations as JoelCarlson(I973):N,,\Ncutral observers at our trial and sentences, we probably would have been hanged in silence. Ground. Lndn, p.171f The International Community and the Tuhadeleni Trial Given the international prominence of the Namibian case, I tried to find out what the international community said or did to restore the rule of law in the then South West Africa, and to rescue the Namibian defendants in the 1967/68 trial in Pretoria. I did some reading, and came across numerous writings by various groups and representatives from a number of international organisations who sent observers to Pretoria to observe the trial. Richard Falk, of the International Commission of Jurists based in Geneva, was one of them, and here are some of the observations he made about the trial: Each trial da' the prisoners werc taken back and forth from the Pretoria Jail in a large van. This van delivered the defendants to a cage that had been placed in a small enclosed courtyard next to the court, a converted old Jewish synagogue. The defendants were brought to this cage about thirty minutes before the court \% as scheduled to begin its session. They were crowded into the cage. It was mid- summer in Pretoria, very humid and uncomfortably hot. OuLtside the cage wvere a large number of Uniformed policemen carrying Sten guns or holding onto aggressive police dogs. The dogs were trained to bark furiously at the smell or sight of Africans. The prisoners were led through a gauntlet of police and barking dogs from the cage to the courtroom about ten minutes before Justice Ludorf was due in court. The lawyers for the defence told me that many [if not all] of the defendants were terrified by this daily experience. I stood in the yard and was \ cry frightened by the generally menacing quality of the scene. In the courtroom very elaborate secutri arrangements prevailed. There were between t\xelse and fifteen uniformed police carrying Sten guns. In addition, several of the prominent members of the Special Branch were in attendance, including those officers who had used brutal means to carry out the interrogations during the periods when the prisoners had been confined to prolonged solitary detention. The atmosphere of the court was x ery much dominated by these security features which appeared to have some intimidating effect on the defendants and even on their counsel. During the trial itself the defendants, or most of them, had no sense of what vas taking place. The trial was conducted in English and Afrikaans, whereas the defendants only spoke native languages. There was an interpreter present but he translated what was being said in court only if evidence in the form of testimony was being presented or the defendants were themselves being addressed. The legal argument and procedural exchanges were not translated. The failure to provide defendants on trial for their lives with a continuous translation of the full proceedings seems to be a cruel and scornful ingredient of such a prosecution; an incomplete rendering of the proceeding might also produce substantixe injustice to the extent that the opportunity for a defendant to react to accusation, evidence, and testimony is seriously hampered. The full consequence is to limit seriously the advantages to a defendant of an open trial. It is essential to understand that the South African Government denies black inhabitants of 14 South West Africa any opportunity for personal development or meaningful participation in Ric rd V Falk (1968): planning their personal and collective destiny. There are no realistic possibilities to work for The Observer's Report. The State peaceful change in South West Africa; any political activity, especially if it includes challeng, Wuhadeleni ,.d Other,. ing prevailing racial policies, is soon branded as 'Communistic' and is subject to suppression In: Erosion fthe Rulcof .... as criminal conduct. The three so-called 'political prisoners' (Nlaxuiuiri [sic]. Otto, and in SUth Africa Geneva, Il UtumbUlua) are clear examples of African opponents of South Africa's racist rule being Intcrnational C,iniwo of treated as 'Communists' and as criminals.'1 J urists

On 16 December 1967, while the trial was in progress, the UN General Assembly, by 110 votes to 2 (South Africa and Portugal), condemned the illegal arrest, deportation, and trial of the 37 Namibians in Pretoria. On 25 January 1968, the UN Security Council unanimously called upon the Government of South Africa to discontinue forthwith the illegal trial and to release and repatriate the South West Africans (Namibians) concerned. Below is a statement by the United States during the plenary session of the United Nations General Assembly from 5 to16 December 1967, regarding the law under which the 37 Namibians were tried. The legislation [the lerrorism Act] has retroactive effect, permits the police and prosecution to strip the accused of rights, which are essential to proper defense and fair trial, and thus 'iolates the essence of due process and the rule of law. Moreover, by its wide and loose definition of offences, the Act shuts off avenues of peaceful dissent in South \West Africa and thereby generates the very beha\ ioUr it seeks to punish .... s a Member of this international community, however, we havc a right and a responsibilitr ... to call upon the South African Government to provide us with complete and straightforward answers. We have a right and a responsibility to call upon the South African Government to halt those prosecutions, to release and repatriate those South West Africans and to cease the illegal application of that Act in the Territorv. This we do with all the vigour at our command. An additional voice came from the Rule of Law Research Centre at Duke University, and the National Council of Churches that sent Dr Arthur Larson to Pretoria to observe the trial. In his report Dr Larson wrote: A superficial observer, looking merely at the external appearance of the trial and open court, might conclude that the forms of a fair trial were being observed, the trouble swith this observation is that, first, the whole frameswork of the status itself is so shockingly violative of elementary principles of justice that even the most scrupulous observance of legal forms in carrying out the act cannot result in anything but a monstrous travesty of justice. The second point to note is that, before the trial even took place, the greatest part of the irreparable damage had been done. Much of the evidence presented at the trial had been procured by the arrest of the 180 witnesses and the holding of them in solitary confinement for unlimited periods. There was a considerable amount of torture of prisoners and witnesses. Some of the police testimony was so obviously perjured as to be ludicrous, as in the case of one officer's testimony that each of the accused he caught voluntarily blurted out a full confession, after having been assured of his legal right to remain silent, each confession being practically identical to every other confession. When asked \ hat happened to the written statements of confessions he said these prisoners signed, the response was that it was raining svery hard and all the written confessions got soaked and disintegrated. For these reasons, it misses the entire point to say that some or even perhaps most of the defendants might have been guilty of some kind of offence against the state in any es ent. This is what due process is all about. (uiven the background and procedures in this affair, one simply cannot assume that anything in the record is reliable, whether purported confessions or anything else ... If the churches had not raised money to aid in the defence of these prisoners, and if others on the outside had not also aided in this process and continually' reminded South Africa that the world was closely watching these proceedings, I suspect that all of these accused \\ould have been quietly tried and hanged long ago. If this was not the intention of the statute, it is impossible for me to understand wvhy it was thought nccessarv to pass a special retroactive statute at all. In other words, if the government had really been \N illing from the first to go through with a full-scale individual trial of each person, there is no reason why they should not have been tried for treason, since the judge said repeatedly that they were all guilty of 101 high treason. I suspect that the go erm ent really wanted to provide a quick and easy wa' of hanging people \\holesale tinder an act which specifically permits this on the principle of guilt I)v association." Dr Larson's report was taken very seriously and discussed by the Executive Committees of the World Council of Churches (WCC) in session in Geneva from February 20 to 23, 1968, and by the Commissions of the Churches on International Affairs (CCIA) and the Lutheran World Federation (LWF). Based on Dr Larson's report, these organisations issued public statements in support of the defendants." These public statements were in addition to meetings, hearings, articles, statements, and letters of protest written by anti-apartheid activists such as Bill Johnson, Elizabeth S. Landis, Sean MacBride, the Special Campaign Committee for the Release of South West African Political Prisoners, and many others in support of the 37 SWAPO men accused in the Tuhadeleni trial. Despite this international pressure, the South African Government argued that UN Resolution 2145 was invalid. It declined to accept these criticisms and continued with the trial and sentencing of the 37 Namibians to prison on Robben Island. The Day of Judgement While the international community came out in support of the prisoners in their struggle against the prosecutions by the apartheid state, they too grabbed any opportunity possible to fight for their survival. On the day of judgement, 9 February 1968, before the judge read out the verdict, Herman Toivo yaToivo and Eliaser Tuhadeleni each made a statement in court. Tuhadeleni's original statement was in the Oshiwambo language. It has not been possible to obtain the original version from the Supreme Court in Pretoria. However, below is a full statement of the translated and published court proceedings. I only reached Standard 3 at school and I was convinced that neither I nor my people could progress without education. And so in 1949 1 went to the Transvaal to try to gain admission at Stoflhcrg College. I failed to do so and I went to work in (,ape Tobwn. \Vorking in this great city showed me how backward my people wvere and how urgently they needed education and progress. I \\as determined to work for this progress. I returned in 1954 to ( )samboland [sic] but spent some 2 years in hospital with TB. I left hospital with the situation of poverty and ignorance in my mind and in 1955 when the late Dr Verwocrd visited Ov ambland I thought here is the man in charge of our affairs: here is my opportunit to take our problems to this powerful man. I found, however, that we Ovamlos were ignorant of procedures and poorly- educated and this handicapped us. I spoke to the Commissioner and told him that the Ovainbos needed education and training. I belie'ed that this \was the kex for our future. The Commissioner agreed and I was encouraged and hclie\ cd that this progress would come. is Arthur Iarn, D)partment of 'hen came bitter \cars. I found that the chiefs and headmen who control us were not interItcrnati,,nil \,or, Nati,,nal csted in discussions at tribal meetings and not prepared to lead the people towards education. (:,,nmoi i f(;horch,, Mach N, ''hose who spoke out at tribal meetings of iur poxerty and ignorance were branded as agitai,,,s tors and victiniscd and not needed. And in this the chiefs and headmen had the support of the (ommissioners and the government. i Public tatcmcnt b\ the world Instead of leadinrg us to independence the South Africans were making us part of South Council of( ;hurchc ,,,,,n n Africa in which the white man is master. (Gcn, . , 20-23 I cbrtir\ 19rIs

That we could expect no progress from those who ruled us and that mv children could expect no better from life than I had. I thought that wc would onI gain respect when wc ruled oursel ves andi that We could onil make progress when wc controlled our own country. I knew that our people were poor but I also knew from the histor\, of my people that thex would struggle to better themsch cs. A peaceful struggle was not possible. W\e of S\\AP() \were not allowed to hold meetings and our leaders were \ictimised. I believed that we must take up arms for the freedom of my people to liberate it from poverty and ignorance. \nd so I went to the bushes with the others. The decision to take up arms against South Africa was a troublesome one to me. I am proud of being a South West African and I am especially proud because of the history of my people. My people have a tradition of peace, both in its own affairs and with its neighbours. The place or area settled by a clan or group of families is called oukituda which means it has been discussed, and the area settled bv a tribe is called os/ilongo, meaning it has been done. That is how we have conducted our affairs, by discussion and agreement. But we find ourselves a conquered people, and the master does not discuss with the slave. And so we shall free Ourselves and then discussion wvill again take place between equals. Our struggle against South Africa is an unequal one. I have seen the power of South Africa at Omuguh gwombashe. But David slew Goliath because he had right on his side, and we Namibians have faith that we, too, have right on our side." Included in the court records is Toivo yaToivo's statement, published innumerable times all over the world, in which he said: You, my Lord, had decided that you had the right to trx us, because your Parliament gave \ ou that right. That ruling has not and could not have changed our feelings. We are N'amibians and not South Africans. We do not now, and will not in the future, recognise your right to govem us; to make laws for us in which we had no sax; to treat our country as if it were your property and as if yoU were our masters.'" The court records revealed that on the 9 February 1968, Judge Bruno Ludorf told the court that his judgement on accused No. One, Eliaser Tuhadeleni, was based on the fact that: He was an executive member of S\APO in Ovamboland [sic]. He continually assiciated with accused Nos. 2 and 3 after they had returned to SW\ after completing their training abroad. He received training as a terrorist in the camps of SW\ and he was one of the leaders in the camps. He had recruited several persons in Ovamboland for such training. 17 Before us there are various documents of which he \\ as the author and which were clearhx ,tatcnent c. Eliaser Tuhadclni intended to encourage a spirit of hostility between the white and non-white inhabitants in during the i967/68 trial. the territory of S\\A ... He \\as the person who gave instructions that ()shikango should be attacked and burnt down, and he suggested that the Bantu (Commissioner should be inur- is dered. li N I I crman a a I i ,. in his statement during the i ui,7/ris rial, As a result of these findings, he was found guilty of the main charge. So despite the pressure from the I Februar' 1964, Pretoria international community, Judge Bruno Ludorf issued his sentences as follows: Supreme Court

! Name of the Accused I. Iliaser 'luhadcleni 2. Johanncs ()tto NankudhLu 3. Sirocon Kamlno Shixungileni 4. Julius Israel Sarnbeni Shilongo 5. lInimauiel \ ,,ltulsShifidi 0. Kaleb Kcnimuini 'I'jipahura 7. Rudolf Martin Kadhikwa S ,.\bcI lialuteni 9. Bctuel Nunjango 10. latias Elia Kanyuele 11. lalakia Shivute Ishona 12. Johannes Samiwel Shiponeni 13. Petrus Kamati 14. Phillemon Shitilifa 15. Simeon Namunganga Hamulemo 16. Shinima Nailcnge 17. Ndjaula Tshaningwa 18. Sakeus Phillipus Itika 19. Rehabeam Olavi Nambinga 20. Ephraim Kamati Kaporo 21. Lazarus Nghidinua Zachariah 22. David Haminime Shimwefeleni 23. Joseph Helao Shitvuw'ete 24. Eino Kamati Ekandjo 25. Festus Nehale 26. Nghidipo Yesava Haufiku 27. mIivo Herman Ja Ioivo 28. Naftali Amungulu 29. Petrus Simon Niilenge 30. Jonas Nashivela 31. Nathaniel Lot Homateni 32. Imanuel Gotlieb Nathaniel Nlaxwilili 33. Johannes Guaniipupu Otto 34. Jason Daniel Nlutumbulwa 35. Matheus Joseph 36. Michael lfingilwa Moses 37. Simeon ipinge Iputa The Namibian, ex-Robben Island prisoners at the recnrding sessions organised by the Robben Island Museum held on Robben Island in May 2002 said: On the 9 February 1968, the same day of our judgement, thirty of us were handcuffed, chained together in twos, hand-to-hand, and put in leg irons. We were ordered to get into the back of a mesh-wired van with very sharp spiky wires built on top. The van drove off with us. \c were not told where they were driving us to, although we suspected that they might take us to the infamous Robben Island. From Pretoria we drove without a stop until we reached Life Imprisonment. Life Imprisonment. Life Imprisonment. Life Im prisonment. Life Imprisonment. Life Imprisonment. Life Imprisonment. Life Imprisonment. Life Imprisonment. life Imprisonment. Life Im prisonment. Life Imprisonment. Life Imprisonment. Life Imprisonment. Life Imprisonment. Life Imprisonment. Life Imprisonment. Life Imprisonment. Life Imprisonment. D)ied during trial. Twenty Years Imprisonment. \enty Years Imprisonment. Twenty Years Imprisonment. Twenty Years Imprisonment. Twenty Years Imprisonment. Twenty Years Imprisonment. TFw enty Years Imprisonment. Twenty Years Imprisonment. Twenty Years Imprisonment. Five Years. Five Years. Five years, of which four years and eleven months were suspended for three years. Five years, of which four years and eleven months were suspended for three years. Five years, of which four years and eleven months were suspended for three years. Acquitted in November 1967. Found guilty but not sentenced. Acquitted on 26 January 1968. Judgement

Krugersdorp, where \\e were ordered to get otit. The dogs and armed policemeln welcomed trs to Krugersdorp. Apart from the dogs that barked at ,s aggressi\ el, thc presencc of armed personnel vas intimidating. At Krtgersdorp we were paraded and displayed to a cros\vd1 of military personnel, w\ho came to amise themselhes bs \vatching terrorists from Namibia, and cLriously inspecring ts as if \e w erc animals in a zoo. The journey continued throtighout the night. The specd at which the \an wsas driven wsas very high and the road was bumpy. In the ian, we vere sqtashed on top of one another and we wvere handeuffed, tied togetber, and in leg nrons. We could not sir freelh. ,\Iso, wc vere not given the opportunits to help ourselhes and there wvas no toilet in the \an. On the 10 Februars 1968, s c arris ed at \ lurray's Bas 1 larbour in (ape 'lb n. E\ ers:ne had backaehe. We were taken straight onto the boat and directed to the hold at the bottom of the boat. As soon as we got into the hold, t\so swater pipes, opened to high power, svere inserted into the hold, making trs all w et. We got soaked and thonght that our enemsv swouild throw is into the rough sea. We struggled to hold >nt( the s'ood, but the space was too small and we sere mans. We wvere handcoffed, svet, tied together, and in leg irons. The journex to Robben Island was arduous, and by the time we arrived on the island, wc were extremely exhausted.

VII ROBBEN ISLAND The survivors of the 1967/68 Tuhadeleni trial in Pretoria said: On the 10 Fbcruary 1968 wc arrived at Robben Island harbour. \Ve were ordered to disembark from the hold and to line up two b\ two. As wc walked out from The iLaz boat that had brooght us, \\c \\crc again splashed with high-pressure water pipes. This watering was accompanied by insults. The guards reminded us, that we were vuilgoed [filthy stuff] from Suidars [Southwestj. They also said that wc were hardegat [obstinate]. They reminded us that wc were their captives and \\c were brought to Robben Island not on holiday but to be punished. Nany warders came to recei\c us. They formed two lines. Wc were ordered to walk in the space between them. As we w alked through this corridor of lined-up warders, they pointed guns at our heads, some hit tIs on our heads with their guns, saying: 'Welcome to Robben Island'. WeV were directed to walk towards a very high wall that somewhat seemed to separate the harbour from the rest of the island. We walked through a big gate. We walked out of one corridor of armed guards into another that marched on with uIs until wc reached the prison door. As the sandwiched and marched around us, they also abused us and hit us on the heads with truncheons, saying: 'Welcome to Robben Island', until wc arrived at Zinc House. What is referred to as Zinc House \\as a house built out of zinc sheets both on the roof as well as its walls. It had a cement concrete floor, and this was where we were kept from 1968 to 1972. Zinc House \%as formerly a shelter house for patients with transmittable diseases, such as tuberculosis and leprosy. The prison au, thorities handed us each two khaki shorts, two short-sleeved shirts, t\o sisal mats, one canvas acrylic jacket, and two blankets. They did not give us any underpants, socks or shoes. Zinc House was \ ery cold: we did not have enough clothes and had to sleep on a concrete floor with only two sisal mats. Robben Island is generally very cold and wet. There \as no fresh water on the island; when we were allowed to wash, \\e used some brackish water. Our drinking and cooking water was imported from the mainland. During the day, we \ cre made to work outside no matter whether it \was wind, rainy, cold, or sunny. The first work they gave us, w hen we arrived at Robben Island, was to clean tIp the dumping ground. They did not give us any tools; we had to clean the rubble with our bare hands. We really did not mind working, it kept us buss and warm; the problem was that we had to work \ ith our bare hands. We wvere given no gloves and had no shoes on our feet. Later \\c worked in the quarry. The limestone quarry was the hottest place in summer and the coldest in \\ inter. Man\ prisoners lost their eyesight here, because we were not allowed to wear sunglasses, even if someone would donate them to us. The prison authorities said that wearing glasses was not part of the prison uniform. The fine dust of the lime quarry was also unhealthy for some of our comrades like Tt IlTuhadeleni, who developed asthma during our second year on the island. On the hottest days, we were brought to work at the lime quarry to dig the gravel for building roads. \When we started, we had blisters on our hands, but we could not stop working or complain. When we did, the guards told us, 'This is not Namibia; y ou just dig the same way you walked all the way from Tanzania to Namibia'. Zinc House \as surrounded bx a ground full of chopped stones. They were vcry sharp, and when the sun \\as hot, they really burnt our feet as we walked over them with no shoes.

Our food conditions were also bad. We \were givcn mealies for lunch, and porridge for breakfast and dinner, with nothing else to go with it. The s\stcm was out to bring us down toi our knees. The apartheid regime had no mercy for its Opponents. They wanted to dcmoralisC uLs and break our spirit. We held together in the true spirit of brothcrhood and solidarity, and for our belief in o'ur struggle for freedom and independecrcc While at Zinc I louse, wc were not allowed any \ isitors except the Red Cross and a la\\ scr from the lited States, \ in Catte to see is. We refused to talk to them both, because \\re dIid not have an\ trust in anyone brought to ts by the South African apartheid regime. We were separated even from seeing our \N( : I'frican National ( :ongress] comrades, who had arrived there before us. \Ve worked out a strategy to meet with them, and they advised us to talk to the Red (Cross. So when the Red Cross tried again to talk to us, we agreed to meet and talk to them. We told them about our conditions: no shoes, no socks, bad food, not enough clothing, no beds and bedding, and that the place was cold, which resulted in one of our comrades, Tm' Kaxuiiba, becoming an asthma sufferer. He \ as refused treatment. At Zinc House, we had a warder who did not like to be looked in the e, and if you dared to look at him, you were punished usually by being stripped off all sour clothes and beaten on the buttocks. The guards were very abusive and aggressis c towards W. When we coinplained about these unhealthy conditions, \\ e were ordered to undress and to lie down on a bench, and after that, the guards whipped us on the buttocks. After the meeting with the Red Cross, there were soime changes. We were given shoes, but no socks, and our meals changed to also include boiled meat, eggs, and fish, and we were permitted visitors from Namibia. We wvere later given the privilege to reccive one visit per scar of a family member from Namibia. We were also allowed to write letters home and to receive letters. But our letters were given to us censored and sometimes without content, or with content, but the address of the sender \\ as cut out b the prison censorship office. We were allowed to write home, one letter per month, but our letters "were opened and read by the police. The prison authorities did not allow us to inform our relatives that we were imprisoned, and if we \wrote about prison life, the text \as cut out before postage. The letters we received from Namibia were opened by the prison warders and read by them. We received letters with plenty of holes. In some cases, a W hole paragraph or sentence ss as cut out or scrubbed out with a black pen. Anx thing they did not want us to hear or sax \\'as cut out. Also, beating and torture \were minimally administered at Robben Island prison, except in some cases, where the guards Would beat op one of us, or put him in isolation, or punish hili) by cutting down his meals, or giving him the worst food, if thes felt that his bliaViour towards them \was improper. There \\ere no standard fornuilae for what constituted proper behaviour. Refusal to address the guards as /aas, or answering them back as equals aiLid looking them in the ce were punishable offences. The judgement with regard to the punishment sw as left to the guard on duts and could last for a \\ cck or dax s. But Once the punishment \\as over, the person was returned to the others. While at Zinc House, wc were woken up e\ cry morning at 05.00 by a siren-like sound that ran through the walls of the house. Everyone had to get up, get dressed, fold their mats and blankets and stand on their feet on a cold concrete floor with no shoes or socks. E\ en the sick ones were not allowed to lie down. E\cn on those daxs w hen we did not go outside to work, \ve just had to be standing with our neathl folded sisal mats. This \was the prison order that had to be obeyed. The apartheid laws followed us to prison, where even our meals were classified according to our ethnic group. The text below is copied from the 'D' Section of the Robben Island Museum: I Indcr apartheid, South Africans wcrc classified as '\Whites', 'Coloureds', 'Asian', 'Natives' (subsequIently termed 'Bantu' and later 'Blacks') by law. These laws regulated all aspects of people's lix es according to the population group to which they were officially assigned. Apartheid was also applied in prison where meals were determined on racial lines. Political prisoners resisted all such discrimination practices. It was only in 1979 that prison authorities finally issued a standard diet for all prisoners. Prisoners' Diet Scale Food Item Coloured/Asian Blacks Nlealie Mleal/Mealie Rice/Stampmealies 400g 350g Bread 250g None Nleat/Fish I I(Jg (4 x week) 60g (4 x \ eck) Dried beans 125g (on meatless days) Same Vegetables 250g Same Sotup/l)rotone/( ra\'vy/Powder 20g Same Coffeel'/Ta Twice a day Once a day Phusaimanda None 55g [powdered drink made from corn] Salt 15g Same Sugar 60g 45g The ex-Robben Island prisoners said: In 1972. we were told to pack all our stuff and march out of Zinc House. We were moved to Nakulukutu, the solitary confinement section, also referred to as the Nlandela Section. While \xre were at Makulukutu, the guards stormed in one night while we were sleeping. They ordered everyone to strip naked, put our hands up high and place them against the wall. They searched everywhere in our cell. We were even asked to open our mouths to be searched. \c did not know what the search was for but the warders insulted us and made remarks about 'hierdi hardgeats van Suidwes' [these obstinate people from South West Africa]. They beat us up while wvc were standing. Some of our comrades were beaten up so badly that they ended up seeking medical treatment. In 1974, x\c were again moved from the \lakulukutu section to the 'E' Section, because we werc apparently spreading a bad influence on the other inmates. The prison authority referred to us as 'very bad and dangerous people'. We were apparently thought to be capable of escaping from Robben Island. We were brought here, all of us from Namibia, with only one comrade, Novula, from South Africa. We were sleeping on the floor with only two sisal mats and two blankets. The prison floors were xxet and cold, and these conditions were not good for our health. While at 'E' Section, xwe decided to organise ourselves and demand changes to improve the conditions imposed on us. \We made a decision to write a petition against (1) the behaviour of S.E. Marais, and to request (2) study privileges and, (3) beds and bedding facilities.

It was possible to write the petition, because we were kept in one big cell and Linder ful light at all times. Our lights were not switched off whether it was day or night. We had anmongst us 7Tte Kaxumba and Julius Shilongo, who continued to preach that the struggle must continue even in jail. So \\e wrote our petition. Then we heard that Captain Harding, the Commander of Police, was visiting Robben Island and would come to inspect our conditions in jail. Comrade NoV Ula volunteered to hand over our petition to C;aptain I larding in person, should he visit our prison cell. The petition Was handed to the (ommander of Police without the accompanying warders realising or noticing the handing over. We \\ere glad that (Captain Harding left Robben Island With our petition in his pocket. One day, while we were out chopping firewood, an army of policemen and guards marched towards us. We noticed them, wondering what the\ were doing, but ignored them and continued with our work. To our surprise, they surrounded us and ordered us to line up in twos and march back to prison. When we got into our cells, we found our belongings upside down. The warders had searched our things: we did not know what they had searched for. We were taken to the charge office one by one and charged with writing a petition. We were subsequently punished by the removal of all our privileges for about a month and given bad food. Our cell was monitored more closely, and we were punished even for coughing. We were prohibited from receiving an\ news. This was ridiculous, wc slept on a wet and cold concrete floor with only two sisal mats, two blankets, no socks, no pants and they expected us to keep quiet about this. It puzzIles us survivors of Robben Island everytime we come here, as to how we survived twel e cold winters on this island sleeping on the floor. God must have been on our side. I can still recall, that if you did not bring y our mats out for a week, they developed some mould and that the moisture got to y'ou when \so were sleeping. We were moved again in 1976 from the 'E' Section to the 'D' Section that came to be known as The Namibia Section. This is where \we wcere kept until our release in 1985. Life in the 'D' Section was eventful. Firstly, we were joined by many young inmates from South Africa. Although we did not ask for their ages, we could see that their age was that of schoolgoing children. This is how we discovered them in our section. One day in 1976, or around there, as we returned from work in the lime quarry, we found kids in our cells. They were brought in while we were out working. As we moved closer to them, they got really very frightened. I went to talk to them. They were busy sharpening an object with a stone. Wc were all curious to find out how they got here. So I asked: 'What are you busy with?' 'We want to make this thing very sharp so that when those other people come to attack and rape us, we can defend ourselves.' 'Which people are those?' 'Those people from Leeukop prison where they kept us.' 'You were at Leeukop prison?' 'Yes, we were arrested during the students' demonstration at Souseto, beaten up, tortured by the Boers and taken to Leeukop prison. There we found prisoners who attacked and raped us. We have to defend ourselves. If they conie again, \\c will kill them with this.' I moved a bit closer to them and they moved awas in a wa' as if to protect themselves. So I sat down and spoke to them from a distance. I told them we sere Namibians who were brought here against our wishes. I explained to them the circumstances that brought us to Robben Island. They eased up a bit and spoke a bit more relaxed. Tare Kaxumba who also had children back home told them: 'I am a father of seven children, some of whom are \our 117

/// , / \.i\ R/, "TJN : ,I' i , al I h ,. N/ X I;. :h h ..... ' ,/ i, ph I',I I / /1,h ..h,/41101;...... I , / ,//. //i// ", /1,,. i . . i,'/si /. i./,, / ,I , , I /h. 1 if ti U~L,/ I 2u, t-.lpx,/,, _' . I(U:': I , Additional inmates from Namibia were brought in and our number swelled to about sixty Namibians. Although we were in jail and were not at all happy to see more of our people arrested and brought to this jail, we nevertheless welcomed them warmly. We were happy to see people from our country that we missed so much. We wanted so much to hear what was going on with politics at home. This is what they told us: 'The war is going on and real battles are taking place inside Namibia between us and the South African occupation forces. We are determined that we will win the war and that "victory is certain". Our people at home are thinking of you, they pray for your freedom and return, even in the churches, the priests pray for your release and wellbeing every Sunday.' 'hese comrades from home also told us that our people back home were missing us. When they saw six comrades who were detained with us, but released three months after our trial, they composed a song in our memiory that called for our immediate release as follows: FaJ 'lhn \ I( )rt[ i \i t2 \ 1 I'lillI l\ 'I xu i li ( )x ~ c i c i ii Ix1 x/ .xl ix )ni: ixc i a i-l tel-i iii~ll ix. \\oa-\x\x hlh \ ;.inaii (. )\ , 11 I)C II i ilx i iI .c \lo\,ai1III)JJ (1l \J linc. \laxx lili and Nlhiruxhulxxa allt JIh \I Otto We S'M \NC \\ a i)[ to ,cc 'Thc thirtx \hcrc aic the\ Retirn them! III \,I ia. xxe x c nt to see tcm 'I he toriden is hea\ \ ( :aIlling fr dedicated men \Vhci e ,hc r \ h. Return them! ho \imihia. \c xx ant to ,CC them. age and older. I can never hurt \,ou. It would be as if that would be done to my own sons. None of us here has any intention to hurt you. We shall protect you if any such things happen to you here. We are your friends and comrades, and you our heroes. You stood tip, not only for your rights, but for the rights of all your countrymen and women, that was a brave thing to do.' They eased Up and started to talk to us more freely. '0ow 1 1 -QW4;

They also tatight tis new reN,oltiti(>narNI songs that were composed after our arrest. These songs were very important for our spiritual and inoral upliftnient in jail. Vi\amibia Vlikm cm Oshike hano nma mmena Eshi Iranm kmidjite embukt 1 , 11 filýýlil)Clli atilshelli 1 , ti tei 111() c1111)11111 m edu Ictu: Cliortis: I )jej mo nw\miiiblzl Sbunerii oku mma dja \1ýlllll)tlltl Djei 111(o' djel 1110 'ýhuncni oku vnmýi dja. Nalmbia c(111 Lettl Ii pcua ktikaltinga ,kl e Ii peu a tu kalc nio Tuha pikm e ttilia pangek\ e K\amibia Shunerii okti mma dja Marnbidu Djei rn,,, djei nio> Shuneril okti ims a dja. MN ana \a han_4 na YA1 kil mil kurnaida '1,() Suna shaXjujmna Na Max\k ifilj taa popi Nondoka vaye y(miwkaroya: Choru,ý: Djei nio m(Nan-iibia .Shuneni okakve ku mana Marriblikl Djei nio. djei nio Shurieni ()kli nix% a dja. Ow., arnba wedit lerii kOlangc okaNve kil manc kil pitla kOrnha\ -ceshi pula dmffl\ e VAiikl ernbiflu fikarneni. Ch o r t is: I )Ici rm) iiioNamll)izi Shtineni okti rnwa dia \1,11111x1111 Djei v-no, djei Im> Shuneni ()kli rnwa dja. M h\ arc \()[[ qille[: WIm Lire \ou 111)t fi-liting the I et Iis all stand 111) Chase the PY)cu mjt (4* our land: lwrti": Get mIt ()t, _\zllnibia RectirjiNNlicrc\o[i(ýýiiie frimi 1"(ý' i ý (jet otit, ,,et wit G(p back m here \mt camc fnini. N..11IIIbla 1-, mir Ialld GJ <,a\ c it to tis Ti Ii\ e in it 7ý"()t n) bc ()ppres,,ed and Suppre,",ed Bv the floci in mir 4m ro land: Get mir (d Nanlibill Rutlirn m here \om C3111c foron) Get mil, get mit G(i back \\ here \,)u canic from. The United Ný1(101111 Tried to a(AN ise vou Together \\ith Sam Xtijorna And, NI.lx\%,ililj m itli hi,, mx n \ <)itc Speaking k\ ith his um ro N mcc: lorti,,: Gcc otit (d Nanubla Return m here vmi carne frmii "er (>lit, ,ci: i mit ;(y back- m here ymt caille fn>m. The riclics (dmir 1,11111 I )Ianiond,,, lo\ crtl()Ns in ( )ranjemund ()pper 1% plentemis In TIlmneb 1,,11 V, abundallt 111 Wal\ P, Bl\ Pt,,/ ()ppresm n"s' get g0111"ý. 1(>rus: Get mii 4 Namibill Return \x here vmi camc frmli 1,1e47X Get (mt, get mit G5 back mlicre \mi canie frorn.

Church Service There was an c angelist \\ ho came to gixe us a church service every Sunday soon after our arrixal at the )' Section. This evangelist usually read to us something from the Bible, prayed, and sang some hymns, but he also taught us some other songs. One of the songs he taught us was 'Mx heart is full of oy, jo\, joy, Io.' This song had a beautiful melody and we sang it in the first, second, and bass x oicCs. One day as the c angelist led us into the song, Kaxumba made a sudden interruption of our singing, saving: 'NIx heart is full ofjov. Nly heart is full of joy. What joy is this? Where is the joy? We are held on Robben Island and not in Namibia N\here our people are. What joy do we have here, isolated from our societ and people? Our family members, wives, and children cannot visit us as they wish? Wc are Namibians tried in a foreign court, imprisoned in a foreign prison, against our wishes and the customs of our people. The judge did not speak our language nor did he trx to understand our political and social culture or the sufferings of our people due to apartheid. Since our arrest, wc have been treated in the most dehumanizing way and denied even the most primitix e human conditions. We are here as prisoners and not as free citizens or guests in a foreign country. I do not see any joy under these circumstances.' The priest sat quietly, he did not argue, but listened attentively as Kaxumba spoke. He seemed not prepared to deal \xitl- these questions posed to him, but he waited for Kaxumba to stop talking, then he asked us to join him in a very long prayer and left. We all knew Kaxumba as an outspoken person, but X\ c also knew him as a \ ery religious man, it took us by surprise that it was he \\ ho had to make this intervention. As soon as the priest was gone we all asked him to tell us what happened. So he said, 'I am fed-tip: joy, joy, Joy, what joy is this?' Visitors to Robben Island Prison The Namibian survivors of the Robben Island imprisonment told me during our group discussion at Robben Island Museum in May 2001: Prison is a strange place, not just because it is a place of punishment, condemnation, rejection, captivity, and containment, but also because of our status, being prisoners of war. We were sentenced to a most isolated island surrounded onIy by water and in a very cold and rotigh ocean. The harsh treatment x e received from our guards, the unwelcoming weather, and isolated nature of the island made it very difficult to be a prisoner on this island. If any of us received a letter from home, oh, that letter was read over and over and became a sign of hope for all of us. And, when a visitor from Namibia \\ as corning, the visit filled our hearts with so much joy, although such visits were sometimes made difficult or even impossible by the Robben Island weather, which is rough and unpredictable at times. If there \\as a visitor for you, the guards Would inform you in person that you would have a visitor. They would tell you to prepare yourself expressively and mentally. They would tell you to dress up in a clean prison uniform and to look presentable, so that you left an impression on your visitor that jail was not so bad. Actuallx'. these instructions did not bother us very much, because the most important thing was that someone had risked their lives and had gone to such a length to come here to Robben Island to visit us. Oh, this feeling was so deep and so personally gratifying. It happened quite often that, one of us would be told that he would have a visitor that day and the person would go to such a length to prepare himself to at least look presentable, because this we would have done anyway, even if the guards did not tell us. In some cases, the weather changed for the worse, the sea got rough and the boats could not travel as planned. The visitor was stranded on the mainland, w hile you were in the jail and had no idea about weather conditions outside the prison walls. YoU waited and waited with tremendous anxiety. And, before nightfall, when your anxiety had almost destroyed you with agony, the guard would tell you: "lou zou /t inh'tgekwoi nit'' IyOUr w\rife did not sho% tLip]. This was te most painful thin, to swallow. So in cases \where the visitor finally arrived, we would he called to the waiting room, \%-here we again waited for our turn to be called to recei\ c our visitors. While in waiting, the guards warned us not to sa\ anything about life in prison, but to talk only about famil\ matters. Then they ranted uIs to speak in either Afrikaans or English. \We refused, because many of our people couldn't speak Afrikaans or English. l'hey also did not alh w us to talk bv signs. There \\as a recording room, where all these conversations were recorded and later sent to Windhoek for transcription and translation. The guards warned us that someone who understood our language would monitor our conversation, and that if we said anything political or about prison conditions, our conversation would be terminated and that visitor would not get a visa any more to visit us. So, these were the conditions under which wC \were visited. These statements are supported by the recordings of the prison guards available at Robben Island Museum, which further stated that the translations and transcriptions of these records were sent to the security police, as well as to the South African Intelligence Service. Meme Priskila Visits Robben Island Meme Priskila told me: The idea to visit Robben Island was brought to me by Bishop Dr Leonard Auala in May 1974. I left home one early morning to spend the day with Kuku NlwateuIvi. Upon my return, the children told me that I missed a very important visitor, Bishop Dr Auala from Oniipa. The children told me that the Bishop asked me to go to his home at Oniipa, so that he Could deliver his urgent message to me. I was disappointed to miss such an important visitor. What worried me most was the anxiety of not knowing what it was that he wanted to tell me. If he had walked all the way from Oniipa on foot to bring me a message in person, it must be an important one. I found it difficult to sleep that night, pondering what the Bishop had for me. I did not waste time, and started preparing for the journey on foot to Oniipa, which was about seventy km from Endola. The following day, I was on the way to Oniipa. This is what Bishop Dr Auala told me: 'We are aware that the South African Police took many of our people from our country and keeps them exiled and imprisoned on Robben Island. Your husband is one of those people who are held on this small island surrounded by the cold water of the Atlantic Ocean. ELCIN [Evangelical Lutheran Church in Namibia], together with other churches in Namibia, has been trying to put pressure on South Africa to grant the right to our people who are jailed on Robben Island to be visited by their families. I have reason to believe that this possibility will be granted soon. I would like to hear your views and opinions on this matter. I specifically want to know whether you would like to be included in this visit, should wc succeed with our negotiations.' I was overwhelmed with joy to hear that my husband was alive, despite all the other stories I had heard. I was so thankful and grateful. I told him immediately that 'this is an opportunity

I cannot miss. I want to go and see for myself that my husband is alive.' I accepted to go and I made it clear I was ready to go at any time and at any cost. I was sitting in the Bishop's office going wild with my thoughts. You see, Kaxumba disappeared from home in 1967. Since then we had never heard anything from him, although wxe heard some people saxing that he was arrested, while others maintained that he had been killed and others maintained that he had crossed the border to go into exile. The police, on the other hand, ne cr stopped the search for Kaxumba, even after we were told that he was arrested or killed. They never stopped coming to our home, beating us up and forcing us to tell them \%here to find Kaxumba. This helped my family to hold on to the idea that Kaxumba was alive, although we truly did not know where he was, except that we heard he had been arrested, or been killed or had crossed the border. Some people said that Kaxumba went to Zambia, but every night he was seen home with the kids and me. I am his wife and I never saw him since 1967, when he left home for the last time. I was pondering in a mixture of joy and disbelief, I was overwhelmed by the news. 'he Bishop told me that they would go ahead with their plan and that he would come back to inform me about any progress made. Before I stood up to leave, he said, 'One more thing, I know your heart is bold, but I want you to know that, please, this is highly confidential information meant only for your ears. I hope you understand what I mean.' The Bishop stood up from his chair, opened a small cupboard, and pulled out an envelope and handed it to me. I opened it and there was R400. He told me that S\\APO members in Windhoek had collected the money, and had asked him to kindly hand it to the "lihadeleni family. I was overwhelmed, first to know that there were fellow Namibians thinking about us, wishing us well and wanting to assist us. I was grateful and touched by the kindness. He wished me well and promised to pray for us, and said that I w ould hear from him. I returned home full of hope and excitement. I silently started preparing m children and myself for the possible forthcoming visit. Two months later, Bishop Dr Auala sent me a letter through our church saying that their negotiations had gone very well, and we were authorised to visit our people held at Robben Island prison. He asked me to prepare myself for the journey, and to report to his home with all my things by a certain date. I would join other people going on the same journey. I prepared my children, and told them the truth that their father was alive, but in jail (n Robben Island. The Church had organised a trip for people who wished to visit their relatives in that prison. I told them that this was the reason Bishop Auala had come to see me. The children understood me very well and wished me luck. I had to leave my children alone at home, because I had no one and nowhere to leave them. They fully understood this. I left them the best of what \%as possible in terms of food and money, and advised them to ration well w hatever thex had so that they could survive until I returned. I left for Oniipa, where I found other people going on the same journey. The church officials briefed us about the logistics and administratixe matters. A car and a driver were prepared to take us to Windhoek. I realised I was the only one who did not have an Identity Document [ID], needed at Oshivelo to authorise my entry into the Police Zone on the wax to Windhoek. I was rushed to the Civic Affairs Office at Ondangwa to get an ID. We found a long queue, but I was given priority to jump the line and go straight in for my ID. As xwe passed through the lines of people, thex, whispered to me: ',leme Kaxumba, may God bless you, ,lleme Kaxumba go well.' I looked through the line of people queuing. I did not see any person I recognised, but theN were \\ ishing me well. I felt reall\ touched by their kindness. I got my photo taken, got mx ID. and \ e started our journey.

In Windhoek w\e were taken to the EI,( IN guesthousc in Katutura, where wc stayed until our journey by train to Cape Town was confirmed. \\c waited for over a week before we could get our journey confirmed. The day of our departure from \Windhoek \Nas emotional. We found fellow Namibians waiting for us at the train station to bid us fare\cll. They brought us food or the journey, such as fried chicken, osh/i//ma-e m'anda [thick porridge and spinach]. Traditionally, this is a safe-jnorney wish. We felt really good about this commitment show n by our people, and really felt that our journey would be blessed. So rnany people said they would pra\ for us, and swc beliescd they did. We ate oshnfima-nrvanda. hile \wc waited for the train to get ready, and took a lot Of food with us. Off wc went with a very long train. '[he journe, took us four nights and Ifour days. The Church paid for our trip, and the\ booked us in a % cry comfortable train cabin, where it was possible to at least get some sleep during the journey. On arrival in (:ape Town, Rev David Haufiku met us at the train station and droVse us to Cowley House, a rest house that belonged to the Anglican Church and offered accommodation to families of ex-prisoners, while \\ aiting before and after their visits to the prison. This was the place where we, Namibians, who \ isited our family members on Robben Island, spent weeks and months waiting. Included in a conversation with three people I met in the dining room during my visit to Robben Island Museum, was a former worker at Cowley House, who knew a number of Namibians who had tried to visit their relatives jailed on the island. I asked him to tell me what he knew about the Namibians housed at Cowley House, because I recalled Mrs Tuhadeleni referring to it during our interview. This is what I remember about his response: Namibian visitors often staved between three to fise weeks with us in Cape Town, at Cowley House, without being given a permit to visit their family members on Robben Island. The disadvantage these people suffered was that many of them who came here spoke only Oshiwambo and Otjiherero and very little Afrikaans. The guards at Robben Island monitored and listened to all the conversations of the prisoners and their Nisitors. They had no guards who understood the languages spoken by the prisoners and their families coming from Namibia. Some of the Namibians sadly returned home without seeing their family members on the island, or they had to wait until a security officer, who understood his or her language, was fetched from Namibia to come and monitor their cons ersation.' Meme Priskila continued: So, we spent the first three weeks in (ape Town without going to see our people. We wsere only permitted to see them on the first or second day of the followving month. I was shocked to realise that we had to stay for three weeks in (ape 'I'ow n without seeing our people on Robben Island. We had visas for visiting Robben Island, so why couldn't we -o there, we asked one another during these long and frustrating three weeks. Since the day Bishop Auiala told me about Kaxumba and the \isit to Robbcn Island, and \\ hen wc got our visas in Windhoek, where we were informed that our \ isit to Robbcn Island w old last for two months, I got really excited and looked for\ ard to being with Kaxumba for two months, giving him all the support he needed. My children needed their father home most desperately, and I knew my husband and other comrades did not deserve to be in jail and a foreign jail for that matter. So I was longing to see him, touch him, and feel for myself that yes, indeed, he was alive. I could just visualise what this union was going to be like, and how I \ iUld return home to Endola with Kaxumba. I knew I was close to finding out the truth. Iii 'his sias not a planned in ter\ ic\, but an accidental chat \ith peipc I fiond in the dining Uoon. There ii as no time toi % rite d,\ n their detaiis beire they i :t the island fior ( .ape i n.

TIhis aimless xaiting \Nas devastating. The worst things were firstly, that we could see Robben Island from ( :()\ Ic I louse, but we \\,ere not permitted to go there, but to watch the island from the mainland. So c\ ery day and night, I watched the island, wishing I was a bird and could fly there. Secondly, xx were not told the reasons why we had to wait in Cape Town for almost four weeks, \\ hen our mission was to be on Robben Island with our husbands. Thirdh, xxe did not understand any language that was spoken in South Africa, and this presented a major problem to [is, because xxc could not communicate with local people, or with the police, or the workers at ( o\ Icx House without an interpreter. Our colonisers were really determined to make us suffer, and the only thing that helped us cope in the waiting process was that we were many Namibian women, and wc held together and helped one another with any problems. On the day of our long-awaited visit, officials from (o\ lev House took us by minibus to the harbour. I sat in that minibus with my heart singing xwith jox. At the harbour, xx e were told to board the boat that was leaving for Robben Island. Standing in the doorway were about five tunfriendl\ uniformed white men, xho ordered us to get into the boat in a very harsh manner. Upon entering the boat, armed guards met us and directed LIs to go downstairs, because at that time only \\'hites could sit upstairs. Wex were put into the basement of the boat. There were no chairs to sit on, we had to travel in a standing position, or sit on the floor and the sea was rough. \Ve were told this xs as the place where the fishermen kept their catch. We did not complain; all that mattered was to see our people. On the boat to Robben Island, I was taken a\ av by my thoughts. I xxas looking forward to this re-union, and tried to create a scenario of my husband's bodily and spiritual condition. I started visualising and thinking deeply about Kaxumba. How he was doing. Whether he xx as well and healthy. I just could not xx-ait another minute to see him. The anxiety was just too much. I expected to hug my husband, to talk to him and pour mxv whole heart out to him. I longed to share our family problems with someone who cared for uIs. On arrival on the island, more armed white men welcomed us with anxiety. I felt a violent pain in my stomach and a x avc of nausea rising up in my throat. Oh, these men reminded me of those who came to harass mxy children and me back home. They directed us into a building at the entrance of the harbour. A big wall covered the view onto the island, and we could not see the inside of the island. We xvere led into a room and told to wait. The officials told us that xxe x\ere allowed to be with our people for only thirty-six minutes. Deep in my heart, I felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on my head, and I refused to believe this. I felt as if I was going to faint. How can the world be so cruel, I thought. I could not understand \\hy these policemen were so mean to us. This was a very difficult moment for me. I could not complain, because doing that might have led to the cancellation of my visit. The thirty-six minutes were better than nothing. We were called out six at a time to see our people. I xxwas shocked to realise that we had to visit in turns. When I was called to go in, two policemen took me into a room that had about six partitions of small cubicles. There was a chair in each cubicle and a table-like object. The policeman or guard told us to sit down on a wooden chair. One policeman stood behind me. Then a window of A4 size opened in front of me. There was someone on the other side, but I could not see who it was. The policeman behind me told me that the person on the other side of the xx indow \as Eliaser, and instructed me to start talking. We spoke by shouting through the small xxwindoxx. Kaxumba started to talk, firstly by identifying himself. At first I was not sure xx ho the person was, and wondered whether this was another policeman. As he kept on talking, I recognised his voice and this helped me to talk back. He asked after all the children by name, and insisted to knoxx how each of them was doing. He waved his two hands and arms, his feet and legs, his face and ears, while explaining verbally that he was well and had all his body parts intact. I \\as disappointed. I could not see Kaxunba face to face, but only through a small window. The police who escorted us, treated us as if e were criminals. Theyc crc bullies and heavily armed. I was relieved to kno\ that Im husband \\as alive, and I could go home and deliver the good news to my children. As I walked am av tears poured out of my ecs like a flood. I wanted to touch mv husband or at least to hold his hands, but there was a prison wall between us. I could not see his whole bod, except the parts that he waved through the small window as we talked. I felt totall y oppressed. Kaxumba had a strong personality, he was only concerned about how we were doing back home. He did not say anything about his wellbeing or what he had been through. I was feeling really sad to leave him on the island. I wanted to take him home with me to the children. I cried deep inside of me. The disappointment was immeasurable, after waiting for almost four weeks in Cape Town to be given a permit to see our people on Robben Island. All the sacrifices that I had made, leaving my children home alone, only to be given thirty-six minutes to be with mx husband, and not to see him face to face. I left Cape Tbwn feeling suffocated and suppressed. Ndahambelela added: In 1974, when my mother went for the first time to visit my father, as soon as she had left the house, the police arrived. They parked their armoured cars in our field, walked up and down, but did not come into the house. We were terrified, but there was nothing we could do. We had nowhere to run and hide. Mama left us alone in the house, because apart from our paternal grandmother, who was also very old, she had nowhere else to leave uIs. Before Mama went to \ isit father on Robben Island, she informed our relatives about her absence and that we would be home alone. Her visit to Robben Island took about five to six weeks. For all that time she was away, I cannot recall any relative having come to see us during her absence. No one even passed bv to see whether we were ill or starving or had been harassed by the police. Mv mother went three times to Robben Island, and on all three occasions I cannot recall any person coming to see us in her absence. What mother prepared for us, is what we used or ate until she returned. These were very difficult times. The Police Tormented Me upon My Return Meme Priskila resumed, saying: It was not long after my return from Robben Island, when three white policemen arrived at our home. A small boy from the neighbourhood brought them. The aim of their visit was not clear to me, but this is what they said: The Police: So, you came back from Robben Island? 1einePriskila: Yes I am back. The Police: Where is your son Noah? Yl1eme Priskila: He is in Oshakati. The Police: Are you telling the truth? ,leme Priskila: Yes, I am. The Police: Have you seen him lately? Jlene Priskila: I saw him just before I left for Robben Island.

The policemen jumped on me. One held mv left arm, while the other forced my right hand to sign their papers by sandwiching my right hand firmly between his and the pen. This was too much. I decided to fight for my survival. I was filled with such an enormous anger and energy that I pushed the policeman LIN ay from me, while shouting really hard, 'Leave me alone'. The third policeman said to the others, 'Leave her'. They released my arms, but I was still very angry. I had just returned from Robben Island, where they had locked up my husband, only to return home and find the very same SASP asking me to sign papers. I wept for pity and helplessness. I saw them walking away to their car and they drove off. I was relieved, but still very upset. So, the police hunt of our house continued. They came during the night time, at around 02.00. They came into our home, dragged all the children out of the house into the field and bushes. There thex threatened to kill them, if they did not tell when the SVAPO men were coming to our home for their meals. They beat, svore, and threatened us in order to obtain information from us. As a mother, I really felt sorry for my children, because they did not have a proper childhood, because the police always hunted them. When they were done with the children, they returned to the house, demanding that I should tell them about the SWAPO men, because we had just given them food. Apparently, a reliable source had informed them that combatants always came to our home for their supplies and meals. Sometimes the police would lie that the children had confirmed the information. The children might have spoken, because of fear and pain from the beating and threats from guns pointed at them. The combatants had been coming to our home, they were part of our household, but there was no wax we could tell the police about this. We would land our home in very big trouble. Denial \\ as the only way. When I visited Kaxumba for the second time, we spoke to each other through a telephone, while we looked at one another's faces through the same small window. When the thirty-six minutes were over. they simply closed the window, disconnected the telephone, and instructed me to get up and leave. The heavily armed police guarded us throughout our stay on the island, and escorted us back to the mainland. I do not know what they were protecting us from and why we were guarded all the time. The Police: Noah is not in Oshakati. lem lPriskila: Yes, Ile is. The Police: No, no. lIe has gone to Zambia. .licmto Priskila: I am not aware of that. I only know that he is working in Oshakati hospital, is a secretary to one old \%,hite man. When did he leave for Zambia? The Police: \c also do not know the exact date of his departure. ,lh'mi Priskila: I ha\ c not heard of this, I thought he was in Oshakati. You know I do not live in Oshakati anti do not know what goes on there. I live here, in my home at Endola. Noah went to Oshakati to work and Noah comes home only \xhen he is on Icave. If he does not come home for holidays, I assume lie is in Oshakati. Tihe Police: No, he is not in ()shakati; he went to Zambia, this is why we want you to sign this paper. It is from the government confirming that Noah has gone to Zambia. Sign here. ,Jleue Priskila: Whx x'ould the government need my signature? The Police: We want you to confirm that your son Noah went to Zambia. ,hme Priskila: How do you expect me to confirm something that I do not know? I have not seen Noah going to Zambia. You brought me the story. How can you ask me to confirm a story you just told me? You must sign your papers yourself. ,-o

Ndahambelela added to her family's experience with the police: Before the war started, our house was always swarming with \ isitors, those who came just for a day and those who came to stay for days and cvcn weeks. We had children \ ho wcrc given to us for guardianship. When the war started, cseryoic walked a\ ay from us and visitors ceased to come. People were afraid to be fond in our iomc by the police. We did not want the police in our home, the came bv force, because, if they were to ask permission from us, we would not have allowed them in. During the 1960s, police cars did not make loud noises. 'Flhe\ xould just suddenly arrive on our doorstep. The only noise we heard was the closing of the car doors. Anyone of us who sa\ them, first gave out a signal to the others by saying, 'ododo' [the Boeis are coming]. The \ar tforced uIs to deselop a good hearing capacity, to the extent that when someone was about to approach our home, we could somehow detect the movement. We also learnt to speak very softly. The tones of our voices were always soft. We did not know how to speak loudly. Our laughing \\ as gentle and very soft. Whenever we were in our house, we always kept at the back of our minds the knowledge that the police could come at anytime. We were always on the look out. This was very unhealthy. As children, we did not have a national identity and sense of belonging to our country. The apartheid police took away our security, as they harassed uis in our own countrv and we were never secure in our own home. Our mother had advised us never to talk to the police. If they asked us anything, Mama told us to just cry, but never to respond to any of their questions. The other option was to run away from the house before they could see us, and to stay away from our house until they left. These acts of aggression against our home went on until 1974, when my mother decided she had had enough from the police and fought back. They put her in the middle of a circle. One of them would push her. She would fall onto the policemen on the opposite side of the circle, who in turn pushed her back. She stood firmly in the middle of the policemen and I heard my mother roar like a lion. 'Kill me, kill me, kill me now, just kill me, you have a gun, just kill me. If, ou do not want to kill me, take me to Robben Island where you locked up my husband, take me to Robben Island now.' At the mention of Robben Island, the police stopped short and behaved a bit confused. Standing motionless, they looked at each other's faces. There was dead silence and no motion. It took a while before one of them said: '\Ve have been informed about the house of a SWAPO man, Kaxumba kaNdola, who crosses the border daily from Zambia to visit his famil\ in Namibia. We were told that Kaxumba is visiting his wife and children every night and returning to Zambia the next morning. Every time we receive information that SWAPO men cross the border, we assume that Kaxumba is among them. We rush here to arrest him while he is visiting. This is the first time we hear that your husband is on Robben Island.' By this time, Mama had been to Robben Island and back, and \\ c even had letters from there. They asked my mother to prove that my father was on Robben Island, and she showed them a letter that Daddy wrote to us from there. They looked at it in amazement. This \sas the last time we received beatings from the police, although their movements within the vicinity of our homestead did not stop. Later on, it became clear to us, that when our fathers ssere arrested and exiled to Pretoria, and later sentenced to life imprisonment on Robben Island, their removal from Namibia \w as done under absolute secrecy. Their arrest and exile were even kept secret within the police.

Wc \crc all shocked, and wondcrcd how it was possible that the police were not aware that our father was on Roblen Island. Letter from Robben Island Ndahambelela related: In 1977, my sister Kandina and I parted from Mama. Kandina went to medical school at Engela, while I went to Ongwediva Teacher Training College. The so- called Bantu Education System advised the students after grade seven to go for specialisation, or to contitc with their secondary school. I went for a teaching career. At the college, things did not go \cry well for me. The white soldiers took over the education system. The armed soldiers took over the teaching of some of our subjects and made periodic appearances in classes taught by normal teachers. I had seen soldiers coming to our home to arrest my father and to ask for the SWAPO men. I li\ ed all my life haunted by soldiers and police and they were not kind to us. They threatened us with guns, and beat us up in our own home. I was very uncomfortable and under a lot of pressure during the lessons. I wanted to learn and study hard, but I was afraid. Having soldiers around petrified me. I knew what harm they could do to people, as they did to my family and myself back home. I did not do well at school during the first \,ear at college. I remembered a letter that our dad wrote to us in 1975 from Robben Island, a very short letter, but it lifted uip our spirits. He advised us to study hard and to take our education seriouslx'. I felt that I had disappointed my father by getting very low marks at the college. I tried to talk to my father from inside my heart. I wanted to make him a promise: 'I will not disappoint \ou.' I wanted him to know about the problems I faced at school. The college was very expensive and our mama could not afford it. She depended only on our oumahulnn{ field and some well-wishers for support. She could not afford our education. It was a struggle to get my school fees paid. Some students got scholarships from the government to cover their fees. I also tried to get a scholarship, but my application was rejected xx ithout being considered. The police blacklisted my familx name, Tuhadeleni, and hence disqualified me from receiving any benefits. The other thing was that our class had a mixed group of pupils. There were students from rich families, and poor families, from well- known families, and working parents, such as teachers, nurses, and the police. At the college I did not make friends with any of the students. I was afraid to approach anyone, and feared being rejected. Our teachers, especially the soldiers, thought that I had an attitude problem. They liked certain students and if one happened to be disliked, it was just too bad. I xx as (ne of the students who w'as not liked by the teacher, maybe because I was too fearful and suspicious of the soldier-teachers. I did not have anyone to trust. I failed my first year at the college. Visiting My Dad on Robben Island Ndahambelela continued: In 1978, I left the college and stayed at home for a while helping my mother with household chores. Being in the lo ing company of my mother gave me a relief from the fearful college environment. I returned to grade nine at OngwediN a High School, because I rcalised that at the college I was just hitting m\ head against the wall. Mv school performance improved until April 1980, when one day the school principal walked into our class. He announced that Elina Nambinga and myself should go to his office during break time. He told us that the ELCIN had rcqucsted, that during the upcoming holiday, we go to Cape Town to \isit our imprisoned fathers on Robben Island. The person who \\as sent by the Church to bring us this message, delivered it to the school principal instead of telling us in person. The principal could not keep this information to himself, but spread the information around the school like wildfire. As a result, a student from my class, who hated us, spread all sorts of stories about us, because of the political stand of our parents, and called us 'children of terros'. There was nothing we could do to stop this. My father is mx father, no matter \ hat label people put on him. During the holidax, we left for Cape Town to visit our fathers on Robben Island. In Cape Town, we were accommodated in Cowley House. There we met many people from other liberation movements in South Africa visiting their family members, also imprisoned on Robben Island. On the dav we went to Robben Island, Mr NMotseketse, a worker at Cowlev House, gave each of us two tablets to drink. He advised us that these tablets would protect us from getting seasickness, especially those of us seeing the sea for the first time. \\e were four Namibians on the trip. Three of us took the medicine, the fourth one did not. As we got closer to Robben Island, \wc saw a high wall but nothing on the inside. We sailed around the wall. On arrival at Robben Island, we had to pass through a line of armed guards and dogs. It wvas frightening. The guards who followed us, instructed us to keep quiet. They escorted us to a building adjacent to the ferry terminal. We sat in a big room where \we waited for our turn to see our fathers. The guards stood by throughout our stay. I \%as sensitive to uniformed men. They gave me stomach bubbles. I panicked and could not even cry when I saw my father for the first time in over thirteen years. I was confused and could not focus properly. My brain refused to function properly. I could not remember what I was asked by my familh to convey to my father. My brain was asleep. I tried N-ery hard to wake up, but I could not remember anything. With a pen and an exercise book in my hand, I w rote down what my father was saying. My luck was that my father talked and talked. He asked for each of my brothers and sisters by name. Slowly I recognised his voice. This helped me to wake tip a little and to wxrite do\n what he was saying. He did not speak in a straightforward manner. He was using idioms. For example, he said: 'Omu ekundu o/v'apva neeapeshe opo', meaning, in this place the aloe flowers are ripe and flowering all over the place. What he meant, was that the white police \\ere all over the place and this was actuall\ to warn me. When he asked for my elder brother, Noah, he said: 'Where is Noah? Tell him to go to the boys' seminar'.' The seminary he was talking about was SWAPO, meaning that my brother should cross the border to go into exile. So for most of our conversation, he spoke in a hidden language, as the police stood right behind me. \Ve left the island guarded by police, who forbade us from talking to one another throughout the journey back to Cape Town. As soon as we were left alone, [ told my colleagues that I did not understand what the matter with mix brain was. Suddenly, one of the ladies broke into tears and wept. We also noticed that Elina behaved like a drunken person. nlh'e Esther Nakanyala was the only person amongst us who behaved normally. She told us that she did not take the medicine wc were given before wc left (:owlc House. The ANC comrades, who went with us to Robben Island, told us that they knew people who took a x cry long time to recover after visiting Robben Island. Some school-going children, who visited their fathers in Robben Island prison, lost their senses when they returned, and were unable to continue with their schooling due to some disturbance. They advised us to be careful about taking any substances given to us by the police or their administrative staff. I survived this incident and resumed my schooling until I completed my matric. Disabled for Life Ndahambelela's story continued: I was interested in furthering my education. I joined my sister at the nursing school, because the only career options for black Namibians at the time were teaching and nursing. I enrolled in the nursing profession, because this was less expensive. I wanted a job that taught and paid, to enable me to assist my mother with the basic necessities, and still afford my tuition. It was not long after I started my nursing career, that I developed a leg pain. The pain got worse, and I had to seek medical treatment. I was a patient of one Dr Beukes. One day my doctor told me that he wanted to admit me to the hospital, so that he could do some more detailed examinations of my sickness. I was admitted for two weeks when, one day, I)r Beukes came to my sickbed and gave me an injection. He did not tell me what the injection was, for but being sick, I assumed it was to cure my sickness. I soon realised that I was feeling drowsy and sleepy. I slept. When I woke up, I realised that I was in the theatre and in severe pain. I tried to get up from the bed, but my sick leg was now heavy and I could not lift it up from the bed. I asked the nurses what I was doing in the theatre and what had happened to me. They told me that Dr Beukes had operated me and removed my lymph node, because he suspected that it was infected with cancer-related bacteria. I asked them to tell Dr Beukes that I would like to see him. I was also in severe pain and needed treatment. I waited the whole day and night, but the doctor did not come. A week passed and then a month, and there was no sign of Dr Beukes. The pain continued, but my doctor left me in the theatre and never came back to see how I was recovering, nor did he give medical prescriptions for the nurses to give me. The nurses were afraid to give me medication without the doctor's permission. This incident terrified me. I got worried and feared that I was going to die. I missed my mother and wished she had a way of knowing that I was ill and lying in the hospital bed, where the doctor did not care. Every day I thought of my mother alone at home, and my father suffering away in Robben Island prison. I was under a lot of pain and could not even walk. I cried for my hopelessness. My leg started to swell badly. It could not move left or right or bend in any direction. I felt awful. I was not used to laziness or lying around in bed. I also wanted and hoped to finish my studies, start work, and assist my mother at home. I became a full-time patient. My leg continued to swell. My mother did not know that I was ill; she thought I was just in school. I had no one to send home, and we did not have nurses from Endola. My thoughts were killing me, but there was no one to listen to me. Who could I send to my mother in Endola? What could I do? I suffered alone in the hospital, although I was a student nurse. I also wondered about the medication I was given when I visited Robben Island, and whether it had anything to do with my legache. Ever since I drank it, I began to feel like a lost person. I started having sleeping problems. I could not sleep at night and was tired all the time. I wanted to sleep and rest, but I could not. I could not understand why. I was later on sent to a rehabilitation clinic for mad people, where I was given some tablets that helped me to get some sleep. However, the pain and swelling in my leg continued, and to date my leg never returned to its normal sizc. It frightened mc that l)r Beukes operated on me and removed my lymph node \without discussing the matter with me, or with any member of my family. I was a trained nurse who worked with doctors in the same hospital, but I had not come across any patient who \\as operated on without their knowledge. I wondered why I was operated on without my consent. \h\'y had the doctor avoided treating me and talking to me after the operation? It was unbelievable. When I asked the nurses for )r Beukes, I was later told they had not seen him anymore. Some said he had opened a microsurgery clinic. I asked to be taken to his clinic. We found the clinic but )r Beukes was not there, I was told. No one could tell us where to find him. After two months of unbearable pain, other doctors accepted to treat me, but they too would not tell me \A hat had happened to )r Beukes. My pain got better, but the swelling did not go away. I returned to classes as both a student nurse and a patient. Most of my teachers were very understanding. This was one thing I was thankful for. Friends of my father living in Windhoek were very concerned about our family's survival in the north. This \was especially so during the late 1970s and early 1980s, when South Africa established the Koevoet branch, a special brutal unit within the South African Army, that was notorious for committing atrocities in the various communities of northern Namibia. In 1983, I was advised by some church leaders to move away from the north to Windhoek. I applied for a job in Windhoek's Katutura Hospital and my application was accepted. Around mid1983, 1 moved to Windhoek. In Katutura, people welcomed me with open arms and, as a matter of fact staying in Windhoek improved contact with my father who was still in jail serving his life sentence. Fortunately, I did not have to go back to Robben Island, because my father was transferred to Pretoria for health reasons. He developed asthma during the period of incarceration on Robben Island. This became a serious problem, and his comrades feared that he too might die, as had already happened to Tate Johannes Shimweefeleni, who died because the prison authorities refused to let him receive medical treatment. They had to sleep on cold cement floors with only two sisal mats and two blankets. ie developed asthma and was attacked by it from time to time. This led his fellow prisoners to pressurise the prison authorities directly and through the Red Cross, to transfer him to an inland prison where the climatic conditions were not hazardous to asthma sufferers. The plea was accepted, and my father was transferred from prison on Robben Island to the maximum security prison in Pretoria. In Pretoria, visiting was a bit easier because it did not need many days of waiting. Once you obtained all the necessary permits and visas before leaving Namibia, upon arrival in Pretoria, arrangements to visit him were made within a day. In Windhoek, I had access to a telephone and it was possible for my father to call me directly from the South African jail, although our conversation was monitored and my father had to speak in the presence of two policemen standing behind his back. The police could cut off our conversation at anytime they felt our conversation was not family related. This was nevertheless an opportunity that would not have been possible, if I was still living at Endola, because we did not have access to any telephone facilities. There were times when my father called me on the telephone, because he was confronted with difficulties resulting from false information presented to him by the police. I remember one time when he telephoned to ask if I could urgently go to see him in Pretoria. He could not tell me why he wanted to talk to me, but he emphasised it was important and urgent. I quickly put my money together, obtained the necessary permits, bought my tickets, and took off for Prctoria, where I found my father waiting. After chatting and the usual exchange of grectings hc told me that hc had a problem with a medical doctor, who kept on pressuring him to sign somc papers authorising the doctor to operate him. My heart was beating hard on hearing this, so I asked who the doctor was and interestingly enough, it was a Dr Beukes. Could it be the same doctor who had operated on me and left me in the operation theatre without further treatment and disabled for life? I wondered. I advised my father to refuse an, operation and to be careful with any medication from that doctor. I got so worried, and feared for my father's life in the hands of )r Beukes and the prison authorities. My father told them that if they wanted to release him, they had to first release all his comrades on Robben Island. It was not long after my visit that we read in the newspapers that all the SWAPO political prisoners held b) South Africa on Robben Island were to be released, and they were to arrive homc soon. A week later, my father called me again to verift the information given to him by the prison authorities, that all his comrades were to be released from Robben Island and returned to Namibia. I confirmed the information, based on what I had read in our daily newspapers. He was indeed released from Pretoria, and joined his comrades from Robben Island at the Windhoek Central Prison. I was also struggling with my own health, and the Council of Churches in Namibia [CCN] made me an offer to send me abroad for better treatment. Arrangements were made with the S\VAI)() office in London to receive me, and to assist me in getting my leg properly treated in England. I decided not to return to Namibia after my treatment. I decided to join mv comrades in exile, and only returned home in 1989 during the I 'N-supervised transition to independence. jh , /,i / h Aa 111l 4 2I 1

VIII Kaxumba Freed Ndahambelela narrated how it was revealed to her that her father was free. "Iis is not okau,/ilio, this is Inamutwvika's house. He is coming anytime, any day, today, or tomorrow. lie has done nothing w\'rong, he must be freed.' This is what my mother told us nearly c\ crday, as she reminded us that Daddy would one day return home and that he would be freed. When I was told that all the political prisoners would be freed, I did not doubt it, ill\ mother had predicted this and had reminded us day in and day out, that our father would be freed and would return home. One afternoon in 1985, 1 left work early at 13.00 to go and \isit my maternal grandfather, who w\as \ cry ill in the Katutura Hospital. I wanted to spend some time with him and to keep him company, knowing well that the hospital can be very lonely. I had just arrived at grandfather's sickbed, wlhen we heard noises. There were loud voices shouting, screaming and ululating outside the hospital. There were cars hooting and people shouting. My grandfather and I said to one another, 'laybe there is a wedding'. I stood lip and looked through the window. I saw rows of cars w ith big SWAPO flags flying high. The queIC was long, there were many people and they were rejoicing, carrying and wearing SW\PO flags. Then I thought, could this be the release of our fathers? I rushed out of the hospital and ran into the road. Cars were still coming. I asked a taxi driver to tell me what the noise was all about. He told me that our people who were held on Robben Island were released today. They left prison and were escorted by the people to the CCN. I was so overjoyed that I started screaming: 'My father is free, our fathers are back!' I was actually shouting to myself because, there was so much noise and shouting that no one could hear what the others were saying. I asked the taxi driver to take me to the CCN. We quickly followed them. We noticed the people were heading somewhere else. We were directed to go to Tate Kambangula's house, and there \\c found them seated in the middle of everybody, being greeted and welcomed. No one really explained what had happened. Some people said that the CCN was informed to go and collect their people from the Windhoek Central Prison. Then they quickly organised the community to give their support. The people came out in thousands to welcome their heroes. While ssc were working, people in Katutura were busy preparing to welcome their brothers. The nation \as concerned about the welfare of their people after their release. They rejoiced in total solidarity and brotherhood. A great number of people made their houses available to accommodate their brothers from Robben Island. My mother was in Windhoek a week before my father's release; EILCIN had organised her coming and her accommodation while in \Vindhock. I went to see her at Ttte Shikwambi's house, where she \xas accommodated, but she did not give me any indication that m father was going to be freed. Meme Priskila Meme Priskila told of how she was reunited with Kaxumba:

We were sitting the whole day at Shikwanbi's residence chatting to one another, when wc heard noises, lots of noises, cars hooting, people talking at the tops of their voices, and Luhlations. After a while the noise ceased. A box rushed into the Shikwanlbi's home, he was almost otIt of breath. tic broke the news to us: 'I am sent to inform yo that the people have come, the people from Robbcn Island arc here, the\ are at 7/to Kambangula's residence.' I jumped OLIt of m chair on hearing the news s. I could not believe my\ ears. Ni' husband free, was he coming home \\ith me to Endola? With a mixture of shock, joy, and disbelief we quicklx put on our Suinday clothes and set off to Tito, Kambangula's home on foot. We \% alkcd at a very fast speed, and no one uttered a \\ ord to one another. Finallv, we arrived at KIambangula's residence to see for ourselves. We walked on, right into the yard. There we found many people rejoicing, evers one w caring a smile on their face. I noticed the group immediately because the\' were specially placed. I walked straight on eagerly looking for my husband. I identified him at once, and jumped onto him, grabbed him, and held him for a long time. This was incredible and difficult to explain. I had no doubts in m mind that mx husband w ould one dax come home, but the day w.Ne were united \as impossible to describe. It was trul a dream come true. This was one of the happiest moments of mex life. The people celebrated, they sang SWAPO songs, Christian songs, danced, praised, and chanted at Kambangula's home. It was like a dream being amongst so many people with jox on their faces. As the sun was going down, wve were told that the comrades were getting tired and needed to go and rest. Several Katutura residents offered their houses to their brothers from Robben Island. Some people took one, others took Ip to three. Shikw ambi offered his home to Kaxumba, Justus Heita, and Shiponcni Shikonda. It was such a warm w elcome that could not easily be forgotten. people followed us to the Shikw ambi home to continue the celebration of their freed brothers. I \vas amazed to see men dancing and chanting. I saw for the first time one of our priests, Rev Ndiwa Kalunga praising and really dancing like a x\,oman. It was a joyful experience. LA~ 'bi <./<, //i , , / I I, ..",~l ,

M I! / , ' IIL ' a ' The night came and I found myself unable to sleep. I was too shocked with happiness that I had not experienced in the long time since Kaxumba went away. My mind was crowded with thoughts, after all these years of hoping and praying. Our prayers and hopes were finally heard, my husband was truly home with me by my side. I woke up in the night pondering. Everyone I met was puzzled by the same question, 'Is it true?' We hugged each other and cried for joy. In our society, one usually sees people crying when a person dies, but now we were crying with happiness. The day my husband was released from prison was the most wonderful and unforgettable day of my life. Being with my husband, and watching the community welcoming him joyfully, was such a cherished experience. This was the happiest moment of my life. Security Problems Meme Priskila continued: I stayed at the Shikwvambi's with my husband, together with three other comrades and their wives. Such solidarity has become a rare commodity nowadays. So when our people were released from the apartheid prison of Robben Island, we were all very joyful to see their return back to their motherland and community. We did not think about their security until one day, when we noticed the presence of the police and Koevoet standing outside watching over Shikwambi's house. They would not come in and were not talking to anyone. It was later discovered that the police and Koevoet were watching over the houses that hosted our comrades from Robben Island. They made their presence obvious, but when asked why they watched over these houses, they would not bother to explain what their intentions were. The host families got worried and scared, because apart from reporting these incidents to the CGN, there was nowhere else they could turn.

There were concerns that the police might raid these homes. This was the biggest worry for the host families, because they had nothing to defend nor to protect their brothers with, who had just been released from prison. \ lot of stress was felt in Katutura over the security of these people. Kaxumba made plans to return to Endola and rebuild our home, bt everyone around us strongly advised him not to take the trip due to securit\ risks in the north. Several people advised us against going to the north because there the police could just do whatever they liked without anyone documenting the event or making the \\ orld hear about it. There \\ere no newspapers in the north to cover atrocities. The place \\as almost isolated from the rest of the country and the world. We postponed our trip, but we later wcnt secretly for a quick visit. Kaxumba went to Owambo three times after his release, and on all these occasions the Church organised his trips. He had to travel through Oshix lo dressed like a priest. When he arrived home for the first time, we wanted to organise a elcoming celebration, but the idea was turned down over security considerations. A few of the neighbours were asked to come and see him quickly before he returned to Windhoek. Although these comrades were freed from Robben Island, the political problems that caused their arrest, and the same colonial government that threw them into jail remained in power. The fears over the security of our released brothers became eminent after Comrade Immanuel Shifidi was intentionally shot dead by the police during a SWAPO rally in Katutura in 1986. Kaxumba was later advised to leave the country and go into exile, as most people feared the same might happen to him. These were tough times in the history of our country. Even when we were seated in the house, our eyes were always on the lookout, knowing well that the police could raid our home at any time they pleased, and there was nothing we could do to stop them. We were overjoyed to see Kaxumba free, but our concern for his well-being and fear of losing him increased not long after his release, due to threats posed by the police and Koevoet. How could we protect his life from the police? This question was alhaxs on our lips. The CCN and the Katutura community provided all the assistance to our returning political prisoners from Robben Island. I personally am not able to find appropriate words to thank them. They made me happy and proud to be part of such a kind, generous, and loving nation. The anti-apartheid committees and the solidarity movements especially from the United Kingdom provided a lot of financial support through the CCN. The CCN had good contacts with the international community, through which they were able to raise the concern over the plight of the political prisoners. As things were, most of these men went to jail very young, and had no home of their own. And even those who had had homes, their houses had been destroyed by the war. After their release from prison, they needed homes to live in. They needed food and clothing. They needed money and had no jobs. The CCN wN as able to mobilise enough resources to support those families who were providing shelter to the released Namibians. The support was given in the form of pocket money, food, and sometimes they would deliver a whole goat or chicken to the hosting family. The only thing which the CCN and the Katutura community could not provide them with, was security. When Kaxumba returned from Robben Island, he immediately resumed his political career. This became necessary, because the social, economic, and political conditions in the country were as bad as, or even worse than they had been at the time of his arrest. He joined other comrades to organise and hold political rallies and meetings in Katutura. The scurity police were not very impressed with this. They apparently devised a plan to get rid of him. This information was whispered to his host family in Kattura, and they became really very wortied. SWAPO activists and some church organisations worked out a plan for our escape into exile in 1986. 1 7

Ålw-, lilhlý1,1,iii hl, hi, 1,

Escape into Exile Meme Prisikila continued her story: I was determined not to be separated from m\ husband again, and if Kaxumba was going into exile, this was a journey I would face even at my old age. I Would go with him, no matter what. Luckily for us, our going into exile was organised by the Council of Churches in Namibia together with the SVAPO Office in Windhoek. It was in 1986, when Kaxumba was asked to go to the office of the CCN. When he got there, he \Nas told that the CCN had received an invitation from .\WERAA [the Association of Western European Parliamentarians Against Apartheid] inviting it to a conference in Lusaka, Zambia. (CN was asked to identify a delegation of church leaders to go to this conference, and it asked Kaxtmba and me to join its delegation. Kaxumba told them immediately that \we were honoured by the invitation and that we accepted it. The Church organised all our travel documents, got uIs visas for Zambia, and obtained permission for us to travel out of Namibia. We left Namibia by a flight to Lusaka via Johannesburg. We were a group of about ten people, with Rev Dr Abisai Shejavali as the leader of the group. Upon our arrival in Johannesburg, Kaxumba and myself were separated from our group and taken to a room where we were told to sit down and wait. We were told that there were problems with our flight and that our connections to Lusaka might be delayed. We were not happy to be separated from our group and became very suspicious. Did they want to have my husband rearrested or what? I was very uncomfortable. The airport staff who had separated us from our group brought uIs to a lounge and served us some snacks. I could not enjoy this luxury, because my mind was troubled. I did not understand and did not trust their intentions. If there was a was for us to escape from the airport I would ha\ e done it. To think of this now, I think the airport staff were giving us preferential treatment maybe due to our age. Kaxumba soas also in ver bad shape, as he had just got out of jail. However, in wartime, even good intentions became questionable and subject to suspicion. After two hours of waiting, a lady and gentleman walked into the room where we waited. They asked us to followv them. We walked with them up to a bus. I was still \ery uncomfortable, although they said they were taking us to a plane. They told us to get into the bus. As we entered the bus, we noticed that our colleagues with whom we left Namibia were also in the bus. Re" Dr Shejavali came to meet us and found us places to sit down. \We soere driven to a plane and took off to Lusaka. We were now ser happy. President Dr Sam Nujonia and his delegation met us at the airport in Lusaka. It was such a warm welcome. We were received in frll SWAP() colours and gi en the highest honour and respect by the president and his delegation. President Kenneth Kaunda of Zambia hosted a welcoming reception for us at his residence in Lusaka. Wc were deeply touched by this hospitality. For the first time in m\ whole life, I traselled in the president's motorcade. I \as both excited and uncomfortable. I s\as used to uniformed men coming to harass me and ins children, and not giving me the respect \c were rcceivin-. The food was plentiful, the people were all very happy to see Lis, and wc felt rcalls \ ery wclcomcd. We ws ere entertained by groups of traditional dancers, s\ hile wc ate and chatted with our comrades and friends at President Kaunda's residence. We \ere later taken to the Nyerere House in Lusaka, where we stayed for three weeks. This \\ as the greatest honou,1r for uis to be accommodated in the house of the former Tanzanian president, s\ here he lived at the time of their liberation struggle. In Lusaka, we attended the conference on apartheid, after which

\ , dI KaXlomha and myself took another flight to Luanda, Angola to join other Namihians in exile. The SWAPO office in Lusaka made arrangements for us to go to Angola. In Luanda, we were again given a very \\,arm wvelcorme and we met a lot of Narnibians. We were shown that we were welcomed, wanted, and belonged. We immediately felt at home. We did not stay long in Luanda, and were taken to Kwanza-Sul as part of President Sam Nujoma's delegation. \Ve left Luanda for a transit camp near Luanda, where we joined other Namibians for Kwanza-Sul. We left the transit camp at about 03.00 by road with a big convoy of about fifteen cars. There were military cars xwith soldiers, S\WAPO soldiers with guns, and civilian cars carrying civilian passengers. The soldiers accompanied us in military cars in front, in the middle, and at the back. Also, in every civilian car there were soldiers with guns. Some cars did not carry passengers; they were loaded with maize meal, rice, fish, beans, and other food supplies for our comrades in Kwanza-Sul. Some soldiers travelled on top of the trucks that carried the food supplies. This was necessary to provide maximum security for the civilians and food supplies. \Ve travelled as a group and there was big solidarity amongst the people. The journey took about ten to thirteen hours. We arrived in Kwanza-Sul during the afternoon, at about 16.00 and were welcomed by a very excited group of young children. They were singing cheerfully and dancing crev complicated traditional dances. WVe arrived at the administration camp, where the camp officials warmly welcomed us. We were pleased to see our fellow Namibians. I was impressed by the way in which the activities of the camp were well organised and -well coordinated. Everything looked just perfect; the children, the mothers, the workers, and the general well- being of all the people we saw. They looked healthy, unlike a general picture given by the apartheid regime that Namibians xxere starving in the SWVAPO camps. We were made to feel wanted and very welcomed. I was highly touched by all this. U pon our return from Kxwanza-Sul, the SWAPO leadership informed us that they had planned to send us to the German Democratic Republic [GDR] so that Kaxumba could receive the proper medical treatment he So badly needed. Kaxumba suffered from asthma, that had started while he was imprisoned on Robben Island. Our tickets, passports, and visas were organised and we left for the G)R. Our journey took the whole night withoot a stop, and at sunrise we landed at a small airport. I did not knows \'hat cotntr this was. We \%-crc not asked to go out and e\eryonc in the aeroplane remained on board. Iiooking through the aeroplane window, I could see that the airport looked like farmland. I heard people referring to the place as MIlalta. In about an hour or so, the journey continued. It \\as around 10.00, when we finally landed in East Berlin. From the airport, wc were taken straight to the hospital by car. We got admitted. \ c were given our rooms and became patients of the GI)R Government. The doctors spoke to us for a long time, and then sent us for various examinations. When our examinations, X-rays, laboratory, and other diagnostic results came, the doctor discussed the results in detail ws'ith uIs. It was onhl after these thorough examinations, that they started giving us medication. I was puzzled and did not understand this. We staved for about three days in the hospital withot getting any medication, but going through examinations. The doctors also explained to us in detail what they were doing to us and why. In my country, I was used to going to a clinic or hospital and getting medication after a five to ten minute conversation with a nurse or doctor. ['sually; you tell your pain and get treated. There was no discussion. Although all this puzzled me, I felt good that they explained evervthing in great detail. It helped me to understand mv own body and even the food that I ate. While in hospital, many Namibians who worked or studied in the GDR came to see uIs, talk to us. and took us out for lunch at their homes. Miany of these Namibians studied various disciplines at \ arious institutions in the GDR. while a fewv worked at the S\WAPO mission and kindergarten. We spent two wecks in the hospital, after which we were discharged and referred to a hotel. We continued receiving medical treatment and resting. It \\ as very important for the doctors in the GDR that we rested according to strict instructions. The eating and resting instructions accompanied all medications. At the end of our treatment, I thought I had become a nurse myself. It was shortly after our return to Angola, that the VN negotiations on the Namibian made a breakthrough. We were told that we would be repatriated back home. Like all our comrades, we joyfully packed our belongings and returned home. Our journey was not without fret, because no one knew for certain about South Africa's seriousness about the implementation of the [ 'N Resolution 435. HowvcCr, we all took the risk and returned home. N.oat s /H ,u /Vil ,.I R,' . Ftstustih"A/j . fir/a / Iii/iaiAA /1/ . I,-n I l/, /" irw from Ic/f: BrII ,i. I i/hi/I.. I iuli,,ha A I 111'wad il I, I ,, AIA ~~f 1 ii' ],z, P~i//(//r f/f * z. _ * AaPh t/ -la //ph" ~, ,

IX THE RETURN HOME Ndahambela said: When man\, of us returnees arriv ed from exile in 1989, 1 noticed that most of my comrades, who had been with me in exile, \were quickly being integrated into society. They were fetched from the reception centres and returned to their parents' homes upon our arrival in Namibia. Many comrades were fetched from the arrival centres by their relatives. I also wanted to be fetched like the others, and realised the hard \way that my parents also needed to be resettled. Some of the comrades went to live with their brothers and sisters who had remained in the country. All of us 'Ihadcleni children, but one, went into exile. The other problem \ as that we did not own homes before we left the country so that we could at least repossess them w hen \\e returned. \W hen we left Namibia in 1985, our home was left in serious destitution. We could not find a person to be left in charge of our house. .1leme Kandina, who remained in the country was married with her own household at Engela. Our home \as left in the hands of two young girls, \who were given to ms mother w hile they were small babies, and my mother was the onh mother they knew. One of these girls died a vcry mysterious death shortly after my parents had left. The story was told, that this child fell ill while at school. She informed her teacher that she was ill and went to lie down tinder the tree. The teacher followed her to the tree and apparently started beating her up. After the beating, she was given an injection and died soon thereafter. The story \was never followed up bN anyone. People were scared of the Boel% and no one \\anted to be seen fighting for the rights of children whose parents were associated with SWAPO. There NwLs only one child left to look after herself and our house until our return in 1989. We\ were stranded and did not easily get jobs. We were also many. This made it difficult, if not impossible, for all the 1uhadelenis to be accommodated by one person. We therefore continued to be scattered here and there. One thing which I can recall with sadness, was the reunion parties. Many of our comrades, who were reintegrated with their families, received big welcoming parties to celebrate their return, and to welcome them back to the motherland. I attended many of these parties, but I often felt ashamed that I had no possibility to be Welcomed in this \\a, because ms family was badly affected by the war, and had lost most of what we had. There was no reunion celebration for the Tuhadeleni children. Wc had to struggle to get employment and to secure a place where we could all be accommodated. Some of our famils members were also involved in the election campaign for SWAPO in different parts of the country. In 1990, we were given a S\VAPO hotse in Katutura. This house was soon \ erv crowded, because my" father had a lot of admirers and acquaintances, who also needed accommodation. \W'hen they heard that Kaxumba had procured accommodation, the\ too came for shelter. N\I father would not turn ans.one away, whenever someone came to ask for accommodation. 'People do not have thorns, they cannot prick one another, let us all squeeze in here,' said rs father. I was the first one of my family to get a job as a nurse, but ms salary did not help much, because there were too many people who depended on it. It \was a drop in the ocean. \t the end of the 1989 election campaign, a message was sent to my father to vacate the house he was staying in because it was apparently put on sale. He was given an option to buy the house or to leave. This message came as a shock to mV father, and in a wa he got really hurt. Niy father did not have a 'ob. lie had just got out of prison, had gone into exile, and did not even hav e a red cent. ()ne day I o\ crhcard my father talking to himself saying: 'Where shall I go \%ith all these children, where can I send them, Wxhat shall I do? Please hear me God.' Luckily, he got some assistance from the ( ( N to sta\ in the house, but his lixclihood was drying up very fast. tie was sent another message to vacate the house before a certain date, unless he wvas prepared to bu it. le was still unemployed and there were lots of questions hanging in the air as to how he N as going to bu the house. I le did not have money or a job. At this time, I was employed but working in (irootfontein and not in \Vindhock, where the house w as. M\ father had been looking for a job since 1989 with no success. I think his age xvas against him. The problem of accommodation got so sc crc for my parents, and it brought me to a point \where I decided to applx for a transfer from Grootfintein to Windhoek, so that I could try to apply for a home loan and buy the house to keep my parents off the street and free from worries. Luckilx again, m\ application for a transfer was approved. A, soon as I arrived in \Vindhoek, I immediately put in my home loan application, but loans take long to be processed and approved. While this was happening, my father was asked b\ S\WAPO to join other elderly returnees in a S\W\PO house in town. Then they wcrc again moved from this house to another house in Khomasdal. While in Khomasdal, they \%ere again told to move. All this moving made him feel sad, rejected, and unwanted. He got heart broken. He decided to pack ip his bags and go back to rebuild his home at Endola. At our home in Endola, there was only one room left intact, and there was no secure place for shelter or to store our belongings. One of the teachers at Endola, Nir Shilongo, x% as kind enough to offer his home to my father to stay in and keep his things, until he finished rebuilding his house. He also assisted my father with some cement bags. Dad made his oxxn bricks, because it Was the cheaper option. The building work worsened his health, because I think he did not take into account his age and poor health. The other thing xxas that he xxas building in a hurrx. lie wanted to finish and settle. Thank God he finished the house and we, his children, started to have the idea of home. Also, community members who needed to see him could go straight to his home. This gave him a sense of relief. The building exhausted him, but it had also helped him by keeping him busy and his mind away from worries. I remember how he was in Windhoek, at the time of independence. He used to wake tip early in the morning, ever dax before those going to work were up. He \ as the first one to bath, dress up neatly, and sit in the sittingroom, waiting for his call for duty as a soldier or a cleaner, whatever his gox ernnent Could give him. He waited for his call to scr\ ice day after dax. He wxas always read\ for duties. This never happened, but inside him xxcrc the expectations of 'freedom and work'. After rebuilding his home, his next move \\as to get clcctricit. lie painfilly realised that he needed money to bu cables, so that lic could bring clcctricit\ to his house. In l 994, Nampower and Telecom Namibia took pity on him and supplied his home x\ ith clectricity and telephone connection free of charge. Nix father \x as a happy man. In 194, mv dad organised a reunion celebration for all his children, nearly five xears after independence. I is asthma worsened and he got really ill. I myself am a nurse, but could not help m\ father, lie needed the money to pay for a private doctor. We could not afford his treatment, lie also thought that he xwas going to die. It was painful to watch my father being sick without proper medical treatment, because we could not afford it. He decided to call his children together to gixe us moral strength to face the new Namibian society. Niy heart ached. As a nurse, I knew that m' father could bc helped, but help was expensive, and wC could not afford it. I prayed, 'God let me have mney to send my father for treatment.' Poverty is pits, I thought to myself. At the reunion celebration, my father said: ( )h (Cod, I am grateful and thankful, for you have saved my family. Please hear my sincere gratitude and apprcciation. I w as imprisoned and released. I went into exile and returned. All these s'cars that I \was a\\ a my \\ife and children survived under very difficult and humiliating circumstances. l 'hcs went through unspeakable difficulties and survived. My whole family went into exile, but most of them safely returned. I am thankful, I am grateful. I feel honoured to see my children and wife, as we arc sitting here without fear of being arrested, harassed, beaten, or sent to jail. We have the victory in our hands. This is what we fought for and wc won. I am sad that I do not know my children and my children do not know me as a father. When they were growing up, I was in prison. Mx wife did all she could single-handedly to bring them Up. God, YoU gaVe me a strong woman, I am thankful. Before my sons could grow into young men, the v were harassed by the police and forced into exile. Nly xwife was left without much help. Nxly family was denied the opportunity of knowing one another. Even those who \vent into exile, do not know one another. SWAPO was big and we were not all living in one place, some were in Zambia, while others were in Angola, and other places. I am thankful to see my children, my wife, and my people well. The liberation struggle w\as about getting our people free to develop their country and communities. I did not think that I was going to witness the independence of our country, Namibia. Our Independence is my joy and this is worth celebrating. We used to have cattle in this house; they disappeared with the war in 1966. We had goats in this house, they got lost in the war. Wealth can be lost and may be found again. Let us accept that and be grateful that most of us are ali e. This is the time of family reunions. Independence has brought us together. We must rebuild our famil, our community, and our country. We must learn to know one another and to understand one another as one family, as mother, son, father, daughter, brother, and sister.' He said this while holding our hands.Ve, the children, were also happy. We were pleased and thankful, for vc all knew we had survived an historical era that xs'as very difficult to explain. Luckily for us, our father recovered until November 1997, when he died in the Katutura State Hospital.

Laid to (XDF) MW -1,1~, Fildolll. T he alllil)lýill, 1)(»,mbv 11ý97.

Acronyms AN( African National Congress A\WEI AA Association of Wcstcrn European Parliamentarians Against Apartheid CAN I I (aprivi African National ( Tnion ((N Council of Churches in Namibia (I)\I Consolidated Diamond Mines ELCIN Evangelical Lutheran Church in Nanibia GD)R German Democratic Republic IC) International Court of Justice ID Identity I)ocument NLO Northern Labour Organisation OPC Ovamboland People's Congress OPO Ovamboland People's Organisation PLAN People's Liberation Army of Namibia SADF South African Defence Force SASF South African Security Force SASP South African Security Police SCM Students' Christian Movement SLO Southern Labour Organisation SWA South West Africa SVANLA South West African Native Labour Association SWANU South West Africa National Union SWAPO South West Africa People's Organisation LIN t Tnited Nations TNO United Nations Organization UNTAG United Nations Transition Assistance Group

Glossary Baas Bakkic Boels Cua shop Eendulne dolnomu/itu Et-wa Ekaekun va Ehitaga Epeti Eshiku Fiifil boys Harde.att Knopkerrie Kiku .llarw/a .!lbun vanana .lleeku/u .!Im'rou lzhiui'oi'epolzo Obi/hete Okaholo Okanhaululi Okaumbo Olupale Omaanda Oinahaizgu Omalenga Oina/odu Omaprako/a Ombala Ombonge Omifina Omukunda Omandi Ondjuwo Ondute yoinomufitu Onhala Ontsakala Oshana Oshiendedemba Oshifima-nevanda Oshikundu Boss Small truck Afrikaans-speaking %w hites Bar-curn-shop selling alcoholic beverages Men of the forest, freedom fighters Okay, allright Black soldiers in the South African Army, traitors Senior headman (plural: Ona/enga) Enclosure/kitchen in a traditional house Hairstyle for men Secret name for freedom fighters Stubborn/obstinate Knobbed stick Grandmother Tree and fruit (Sclerocarya birrea) Bend down to expose your bottom Grandmother Mother, also a polite address to a woman Madam Underground resistance movement Ticket, travel document Contract work/labour. Originally: aluminium tag. Contract workers wore a string around their necks with an aluminium tag. A dividing line/ an erected borderline between Namibia and Angola after the death of King Nlandume Female-headed household Sitting place/reception area Granaries, millet storage baskets \Millet Senior headmen (singular: Elenga) Fermented drink, home brew Elementary schooling Residence of a king Place where people meet to debate/hear/discuss Water holes District, area Jackelberry tree (l)iospyros mespiliformis) Bedroom A combatant of the hush, guerrilla fighter A hidden place Fruits used as perfume for women A wide area of land with sandy soil and little vegetation A cake-like mixture of pounded birdplum fruits and water Thick porridge and spinach Traditional non-alcoholic refreshment drink made from millet flour Grotp of young men and women who provide free labour for weeding or threshing the millet Country Church office Name of a gun (trademark) A whip Father, also a polite adress to a man Homebrewed beer Dirty stuff/filth OshlikulngwuL 1 OshilolI4o Oshil/vak~ PepesaI , jelmbok 7bilbo I "filloed

Illustrations Cover photograph: Eliaser Tuhadeleni in the late 1980s. Photographer: Unknown. Published in The Nanibiau in late 1997. In possession of the author. Frontispiz: Eliaser 'ILihadeleni in Zambia in 1986 or 1987. Photographer: Festus Esau. Published in the Namibia Review December 2001/January 2002, p.29, and again in the Vamibia Rn,iew, August 2002, p.10. Page IV: Ellen Ndeshi Namhila, June 2005. Photographer: Gerhardt Botha. In possession of the author. Page 23: Eliaser Tuhadeleni in Cape Town, 1952. Photographer: unknown. In private possession. Page 38: Priskila Tuhadeleni, probably in the late 1980s in exile. Photographer: unknown. In private possession. Page 50: Noah Tuhadeleni 2005. Photographer: Gerhardt Botha. In private possession. Page 52: Ndahambelela "lhhadeleni. Photograph taken by the Katutura Photo Shop, June 2005. In private possession. Page 72: Eliaser ibhadeleni in the 1960s. Photographer: Unknown. Seemingly published by cope, 1966. In private possession. Page 77: Kandina Tuhadeleni, date unknown. Photographer: Unknown. In private possession. Page 102: The Kaxunba kaNdola Cultural Group, Okatyali Constituency, April 1992. Photographer: Ellen Ndcshi Namhila. In private possession. Page 118: Former ex-Robben Island prisoners in Katutura, after November 1985. Photographer: Protasius Ndauendapo. Published in .\w', Era, Special Edition, Inauguration of Heroes' Acre, 26 August 2002, p. 32. Page 133: Eliaser Tuhadeleni in Windhoek in November 1985. Photographer: John Liebenberg.

Page 133: Cheering crowds in Windhoek on the day of the release. Photographer: John Liehbnherg. Page 135: Cheering and dancing in \Vindhoek on the day of the release. Photographer: John Liebenberg. Page 136: Eliaser'Ilihadeleni in Windhoek in November 1985. Photographer: John Liebenberg. Page 138: Eliaser'Flhadeleni in May 1986. Photographer: John Liebenberg. Published in The NVamibian, No 37, 23 May 1986, p. 1. Page 138: Eliaser Thadeleni in Katutura in 1985 or 1986. Photographer: John Liebenberg. Page 140: Eliaser Tuhadeleni and comrades in Angola, after 1986. Photographer: John Liebenberg. Page 141: Photograph of a photograph hanging in a private home and showing Eliaser and Priskilla Tuhadeleni in exile together with comrades. after 1986. Photographer of the image on the wall: Pierrette Schlettwein. Basler Afrika Bibliographien, Switzerland. Page 145: Funeral of Eliaser Tuhadeleni. Photographer: Oswald Shivute. Published in The Namibian, 9 December 1997. Every effort was made to trace the copyright holders of photographs used in this publication. We apologise for any incomplete or incorrect acknowldegments. Is

Bibliography Sources: Oral Recorded intcr\ic\ s with Priscilla Iluhadeleni, Rosalia Ndaharnbelela 'lhhadcleni, Noah 'lihadeleni, ,\ndimba y'1"oivo, I Iclao Shityuw\ctc, Vinnia Ndadi, Erastus Shamena, Johannes Stcphanu.S, Ndorotea Niikodcmts, Simeon Shixungileni, \Vilhelm HaimbangLu, Aina Tholbias-Shingenge, John Shiponeni, lsaak Shoorne ('7hese in.ter*ziears have been deposited at the National Alrhikes of Aamibia under AACRLS. 018 and A.A CRLS. 085 and at the Bas/er Afrika Bibliontphien). Discussions at the Robben Island Namibian D-Section Reference Group Meeting, 6-8 July 2001. (Iideo recordings of these ineetings have been deposited at the National A rhives of Namnibia underAACRLS.i'38). Sources: Archival National Archives of Namibia AcCESSION A.69o. ('Terrorism Trial court records). High Court of South Africa, Trans aal Provincial Division. The State vs. Eliaser Tihadeleni and 36 others. 1967-1968. (Photocopy of the original files held at the National Archives of South Africa). A(u:ESSION AACRLS. 104. CASSETTE B.0499. lntervie\w of Eliaser Tuhadeleni by Laban Shapange. University of Namibia Archives UNIN CoLLECTION NAM 5/1, 2: United States position regarding and responses to application of the 'errorism Act of 1967 to the international territory of South Wcst Africa and the detention and trial of inhabitants of that territor under that Act and similar legislation. Department of State, Dec. 29, 1967. UNIN COLLECTION NAM 5/1, 4: Particulars rcgarding the accused, South West Africa lerrorism Trial.

Tuhadeleni Family Eliaser Tuhadeleni's notebooks. Sources: Literature Angula, Helmut Kanguloohi (1990): The two thousand days of Haimbodi ya Haufiku. Windhoek: Gamsberg Macmillan. Carlson, Joel (1973): No neutral ground. London: Davis-Poynter. Cockram, Gail-Maryse (1976): South West African mandate. Cape Town: Juta. Dugard, John (1970): South West Africa and the 'Terrorist Trial'. In: American jourra/ of international law, vol.64, pp.19-41. Falk, Richard A. (1968): The observer's report. The State v. Eliaser 'Lihadeleni and others. In: Erosion of the rule of lawtw in South Afrint. Geneva: International Commission of Jurists. Falk, Richard A. (1968a): Justice South African style: An observer's impressions. In: Episcopa/ Churchmen for South Af ria, issue Michaelmas 1968, pp.7-15. New York. Letter from Robben Island (1976). In: Namibia news, vol.9, no,.9, pp.10-11. London: SWAPO. Lowenstein, Allard K. (1962): Brutal mandate: A journey to South \Vest Africa. New York: Macmillan NIbako, Simon Zhu (1989): Tell them of Namibia. London: Karia Press. Nibangula, William (1997): Ongulumbashe: Forest of giraffes and shelter for fighters. In: Namibia review, vol.6, no.1, pp.25-28. Nlifima, Solomon (1960): Letter dated 30.8.1960 to the Committee on South West Africa. Cited in: International Court of Justice. South IWest Africa case. Memorial submitted b , the Government of Liberia (April 1961), p.147. Ndadi, Vinnia (1974): Breaking contract. Richmond: LSNI Press. Petitions and communications relating to South West Africa dealt with by the Committee on South West Africa in its report on conditions in the territory submitted to the General Assembly at its sixteenth session. New York 1961. (UN document A/AC.73/4) Shilamba, Hilma & Bianca Gowases (1997): Ongulumbashe. Namibia honours its heroic figures. In: Namibia review, vol.6, no.1, pp.18-28. Windhoek. Shiyuwete, Helao (1997): Kahumba Tate Eliaser Inamutwika Noah Tuhadeleni (Kahumba-ka-Ndola). In: The Namibian, 5.12.1997. Windhoek. Stiff, Peter (1999): The silent war. South African Recce operations, 1969-1995. Aberton: Galago. S\VAPO Party (1997): SVAPO Party statement on the life, history and work of the late Comrade Eliaser Inamtwvika Noah Tuhadeleni 'Kahumba Kandola' during his funeral, Endola, 6th December 1997 The trial of 37 SWVAPO freedom fighters, Pretoria, 1967-1968. Issued by SCCROSWAPP - the Special Campaign Committee for the Release of South West African Political Prisoners. Dar es Salaam, 1968. Toivo yaToivo, Andimba Herman (1973): 1 am a loyal Namibian and I could not betray my people to their enemies [Speech from the dock, Pretoria trial]. New York: Episcopal Churchmen for South Africa. Vigne, Randolph (1975): A dwelling place of our own. Revised edition. London: IDAE Wilson, Francis (1972): Migrant labour: Report to the South African Council of Churches. Johannesburg: South African Council of Churches and SPRO-CAS. Winter, Colin O'Brien (1977): Namibia. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans.

In dex .\lfrican National Congrcss (\NC) 25, Index115, 129 Ahtisaari, Nlartti 98 (Names, Organisations, Places) Amathila, Ben 141 Amungulu, Naftali 112 Amwaahva, Johannes 31 Anglican Church 33, 35, 123 Angola, see also Lohito, L.uanda. Kwanza-Sul 26. 27, 33, 36, 39, 45, 46, 58, 64, 76, 140, 141,144 Ashixugo 97 Association of Western European Parliamentarians Against Apartheid (AWEEPA) 139 Auala, Bishop Dr Leonard 53, 54, 121. 122, 123 Australia 56 Beata 39, 40, 41 Berlin, see also Germany 141 Beukes, Dr 130, 131, 132 Botha, Gerhardt 50 Botswana 37, 58 Britain 4, 5, 26, 55, 58, 137 Cairo, see also Egypt 58 Cape Town, see also South Africa 1, 23, 25,26,36,46, 78, 110, 113, 123, 124, 125, 129 Caprivi African National Union (CANU) 37 Carlson, Joel 105, 106, 107 Carpio, Victorio 53, 54, 56 Cassinga 27 Castrolli 64 Commissions of the Churches on International Affairs (CCIA) 110 Consolidated 1)iamond Mines (CI)\) 12, 13,15 Council of Churches in Namibia (CCN) 132. 134, 136, 137, 139. 143 l)ar-es-Salaarn, see also 'lhnzania 58, 64 )c \\ct Nei 46 )uke [niversitv 109 I)umeni, Bishop )r 95 Eades, Harold 12 Eenhana 47 Egypt, see also Cairo 57 Ehafo 45, 46, 47, 64 I

Ekandjo, Eino Kamati 112 . ndola 4, 5, 6, 14, 15, 17, 19, 20, 21, 22, 37, 41,42, 44, 51,57, 59, 63, 65, 67, 68, 69, 75, 76, 78, 91, 97, 121, 123, 126, 130, 131, 135, 137, 143, 145 Engcla 12, 15, 49, 51, 79, 82, 128, 142 !thiopia 56, 57 Etosha National Park 7, 27, 28, 31 Exalc 27 Evangelical luthcran Church in Namibia (ELCIN) 53, 77, 78, 121, 123, 129, 134 Falk, Richard 108 Finnish Nlissionary Society 5, 75, 83 France 58 Frederick, Bishop Hendrik 138 Garoeb, Moses 140 Geneva 108, 110 German Democratic Republic (GIDR), 141 Germany, see also Berlin, GDR 31, 55 Ghana 57 Grootfontein 8, 12, 86, 98, 99, 143 Haimbangu, Wilhelm, see also HangulaHaimbangu 15, 16, 17 Haluteni, Abel 112, 118 Hamukoto, Valowa ya 33 Hamukwaya, James 103 Hamulemo, Simeon Namunganga 66, 112 Hamutumbangela, Rev Theophilus 24, 33, 34, 35, 36 Hangula-Haimbangu, Ndeshihafela 15, 16, 17 Harding, Captain 117 Hashingola, Ndemwoongela ya 26 Hatutale 6, 7, 8, 13 HaUfiku, Hidipo 77, 112 Haufiku, Rev David 123 Heita, Justus 135 Hellene, Commissioner 34 Hilja 77 Hilukilwa, Petrus 70 Homateni, Nathaniel Lot 112 lifo, Festus 72 Iihuhwa 69 Iilonga, Peter 118 limpompo 101 lipUmbu yaTshilongo, King 5 litengula, Ruben 118 Indongo, Petrus 70 International Court ofJustice (ICJ) 55, 56 lpangelwa, Joseph 118 Iputa, Simeon Ipinge 112 Itika, Sakeus Phillipus 112 lyambo, Patrick 59, 62, 73, 74, 87 Jardin, Dr 70 Johannes, Axel 72 Johannesburg, see also South Africa 82, 139 Johnson, Bill 110 Joseph, Matheus 112 Kadhikwa, Rudolf Martin 112, 118 Kalla, Katrina 102 Kalumbu. Justina 102 Kalunga, Ndiwa 135 Kalyamupombo 93, 95 Kamati, Petrus 112, 118 Kambabi, Eelu 35 Kambangula 134, 135 Kanandjembo-Shangula, Rebecca 102 Kanime, Paavo 88 Kaningwalenga, Ohalandifapo Oshiwana 39, 42, 43, 44 Kanvuele, Nlatias Elia 112 Kapolo, Haimbangu 25, 29 Kaporo, Efraim 103, 106, 107, 112 Kapugulu, see Konus Katutura, see also Windhoek 37, 52, 55, 56, 78, 118, 123, 131,134, 135, 137, 138, 142, 144 Kaukungwa, \1zee Simon 2, 18, 35, 54, 55, 75, 94, 141 Kaulinge, Vilho 5 Kaunda, Kenneth 139 Kavela, Nelson 59 Kayala 61 Kazu kaMangunda 64 Kerina, Nlburumba 36, 45 Khomasdal, see also Windhoek 143 Koevoet 131,136, 137 Kongwa 64 Konus, Jairus Kapugulu 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 101,102 Krantzberg 11, 13

Krugersdorp, see also South Africa 113 Kuhangwa, Jacob 58, 59 Kutako, Hosea 26, 37, 48 K\\'anza-Sul, see also Angola 140 Landis, Elizabeth S. 110 Larson, Arthur 109, 110 League of Nations 55 Leeukop, see also South Africa 117 Lesotho 58 Liberal Part, 24 Liberia 5 Liebenberg, John 133. 135. 136. 138, 140 L)bito, see also Angola 58, 59 London 132 Lowenstein, Allard 10 Luanda. see also Angola 140 Lideritz 6 Ludorf, Bruno 108, 111 Lungada, Patrick, see Ivambo Lusaka, see also Zambia 139, 140 Lutheran World Federation (L\WF) 110 MacBride, Sean 110 Malawi 5$' Malta 141 Mandela, Nelson 116 Mandume Movement 25 Mandume \ aNdemufayo, King 3, 4, 5, 25, 26, 94 Maxwilili, Nathaniel 35, 84, 94, 108, 112, 11$, 119 Mbako, Simon Zhu 17 Meeshaxa, Victory 59, 118 Meroro, Father 70 Mifima, S. 46 Mikael-Indongo, Hileni 102 \loses, Michael 112, 118 Motseketse, Mr 129 .hunguli, Sofia 102 Mupwilikine, Inamutwika Nutalc Inamufya 3, 4 Nusheko, Mike ya 41 Mutongolume, Maxton 141 Nutumbulwa, Jason Daniel 108, 112, 118 NIwateuvi, see Noongo Naholo, Rev Festus 141 Nailenge, Shinima 112 Nakale, Julius 58, 59 Nakalc, Ndaambe 79 Nakanyala, Esther 77, 129 NakanN ala. Johannes Shitorondo 96, 97, 1001 Nambinga, Elina 129 Nambinga, Rehabeam Olavi 112 Namibian l)efense Force (NI)F) 145 Namupala, lich i 98, 99 Namutoni 31, 32, 33, 54, 82 Nangornbc yaNlangundu 64 Nankudhu, John Otto 59, 62, 67, 68, 87, 105, 112 Nanycmba, \Velmina 102 Nashivela, Jonas 112 National Council of Churches 109, 110 Ndakalako 69 Ndauendapo, Protasius 118 Nehale, Festus 112 Nehale, King 31 Nehemia 46 New York 33, 36, 37 Nghatanga, Rev 69, 82 Nghipangelwa 10 Nghuw oepongo 36, 37 Niilenge, Petrus Simon 112 Ninda, Josephat 83 Noodi, Anna 86, 87 Noongo, Mwate,\ i 5, 18, 19, 65, 71, 121 Northern Labour Organisation (NLO) 7 Novula 116, 117 Nujoma, l)r Sam Shafiishuna 37, 45, 46, 61, 91, 119, 139, 140 Nunjango, Betuel 112 Nyercre, Julius 139 Odcndaal Commission 26, 31 ()dibo 24, 33, 35, 36, 49, 51, 69, 70, 82, 90 Olhalushu 2 Ohangwena 1, 2, 3, 33, 34, 37,3$. 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44,46,47, 48, 49,52 Okahandja 86, 138 Okahao 79, 82, 87 Okaloko 96 Okalongo 49, 69, 70, 71 Okashandja 102 Okatale 97, 98 Okatana 10(, 53 Okatyali 102 Okaukuejo 7, 31 Okavango 7, 31, 39, 45, 46, 64 Okondeka 7

()kongo 64, 65 ()maandja 13 ()mnafh 49 ()marmwandi 57 ()marurm 11, 12, 13 ()matangela 4, 5 Omiugulu gwobrnashe (Ongulumbashc) 61, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 75, 79, 83, 87, 88, 91, 92, 99, 101, 111 ()nundudu 5 Onandjokwc 77 Ondanm a 6, 7, 8, 12, 22, 23, 33, 53, 54, 61, 67, 70, 78, 79, 82, 89, 96, 98, 101, 102, 122 Ondjiva 58 Ondjodjo 23 Ondobe 92 Ondonga 27, 31. 49, 85, 87, 97 Onekwava 69 Ongandjcra 16, 63 Onghuta 88 Ongulumbashe, see Ontigul u gwombashc Ongwcdiva 1, 5.6,22, 35, 69, 79, 81, 82 83, 84, 85, 87, 128, 129 Ongwediva '"eacher 'Training College 35.83, 128 Oniipa 75, 77, 79. 80, 121, 122 Oranjernund 6, 12. 15, 16, 119 Oshakati 22, 53, 62, 70, 79, 80, 82. 86, 99, 102, 103, 125. 126 Oshikango 29. 61, 68, 69. 87, 111 Oshi\clo 8, 31, 32. 33, 82, 122, 137 Otavi 86 Otto, Johannes Gtuaniipupu 108, 112 Otto, John va- 118 Outjo 7, 8, 11, 14, 15, 63 Ovamboland People's Congress (OPC) 36, 37 Ovamboland People's Organisarion (OPO) 35, 37, 51, 52, 57, 93 Pandeni, John 118 People's lhiberation Arm\ of Namibia (PLAN) 56, 59, 67 Pohamba, lifikepunyc 76, 141 Portugal 26, 58, 109 Pretoria, see also South Africa 1, 36, 96, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 114, 127, 131, 132 Red Cross 77, 115, 131 Robben Island, see also South Africa 23, 72, 77, 78, 79, 103. 104, 110, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 120, 121,122, 123, 124. 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131,132, 134, 135, 136, 137, 141 Ruacana 43, 70 Rundu 64 Schimming, Mr 54 Schlettwein, Pierrette 141 Shamena, Erastus 69, 81, 82, 83, 87 Sherry 98, 102 Sheya, Joseph 13. 14 Shejavali, Dr Abisai 139 Shifidi, Immanuel 63, 112. 118 Shihepo, Aaron 141 Shihepo. Thomas 141 Shikesho, Nlengela 44, 45 Shikomba, Gaus 118 Shikonda, Shiponeni 135 Shikwambi 134, 135, 136 Shilongo, Julius 64. 112, 117, 118 Shilongo. Mir 143 Shimwandi-Nakanyala. Ndarnono 100, 102 Shirnweefeleni, David Harninime 112 Shimweefeleni, Jonas (Johannes) 103, 104. 131 Shingenge 78 Shiponeni, Johannes (John) SamNwel 112. 118. 135 Shitilifa. Phillemon 112 Shityuw ete, Helao 1, 23,48, 53, 55, 56, 104,.112 ShiV'ute. Andreas 96, 97. 98, 101 Shi- Lte, Loini 97, 98, 101 Shiute, Oswald 145 Shivute, Simon 46 Shixungileni, Simeon Kambo 59, 62. 112, 118 Shoombe 69, 82. 85, 87 Shoome, Isack 66 Shoonyeka, langula Kavela 59 Silas, Johannes 66, 68 South Africa, see also Cape Town, Johannesburg, Krugersdorp, Leeukop, Pretoria, Robben Island, Soweto, Stofberg College, Transvaal 1, 3, 4, 5. 7, 8, 24. 25, 26, 28, 30, 31, 35, 36, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 62, 63, -1 )f

64. 66. 67. 69, 71, 72. 76, 77. 79, 81, 82 83 84 87,93.94 96, 98 104. 105, 106. 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 115. 116, 117, 118, 121. 124. 129. 131, 132, 141 South African )efence Force (S.\I)F) 64, 66, 67, 69, 71, 73, 131 South African Security Force (SASF) 62, 64, 65, 68, 71 South African Securit\- Police (SASP) 1, 57,63, 126 South \Vest Africa National I )nion (S\\\N ) 37 South \Vest Africa People's Organisation (SWVAPO) 1, 3, 21, 37, 39, 44, 45, 46, 48, 50, 52, 53, 57, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 67, WS, 73, 75, 76, 79, 80, 81, 82, X3, 87, 88, 91, 93. 94, 97, 98, 99, 101, 110, 111, 122, 126, 127, 128, 129, 132. 134, 135, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144 South \Vest African Native Labour Association (S\VANILA) 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 15, 30, 31,92 Southern Labour Organisation (SLO) 7 Soweto 117 Special Campaign Committee for the Release of South \Vest African Political Prisoners 110 Spender, Percy 56 Stephanus, Johannes 5, 26, 32 Stofberg College 110 Strydom, Commissioner 27, 28, 33, 36, 37, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 46, 47, 48 Students' Christian Movement (SCM) 70 Tanganyika, see also Tanzania 52, 61, 63, 66, 71, 76,88 Tanzania, see also Dar-es-Salaam, Tanganvika 57, 59, 64, 103, 114 Telecom Namibia 143 Tjipahura, Kaleb KenimUini 112, 118 Tobias, Aina 73 Toivo yaToivo, Andimba Ilerman 1, 23, 35, 36, 45, 53, 54, 55, 63, 75, 84, 94, 101,104, 110,111,112, 140, 141 Transvaal, see also Souith Africa 110 Tsandi 66 Tshaningwa, Ndjaula 112 Tsumeb 6, 27, 86, 99, 119 Tuhadeleni, Andili 69 Tuhadeleni, Kandina 69. 74. 77, 128, 142 "Ilihadclcni, Kcshc 42, 69 'lihadcleni, ILyaalala Noah 3, 4, 5 t'lhadclcni, Ndahambelela 49, 52. 60, 61,67,69, 70, 74, 125, 127, 128, 130, 134 ulhhadelcni, Noah 49, 60, 61, 69, 73. 129 Tuhadeleni, Priskila 12, 18, 21, 37, 38, 39, 40.41,42, 43, 46, 47, 65, 68, 69, 75. 77, 92, 95, 121, 123. 125, 126, 134, 136, 141 Tuhadeleni, Sam 78 "lhhadeleni, Shali 69, 73, 74 Inited Nations Organization (17NO) 33, 34, 36, 37, 45, 46, 48, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 98, 109, 110), 119, 132, 141 V 'nited Nations Fransition Assistance Group ( I 'N'IAG) 98, 99 I.shona. Nialakia Shivute 112 lukw aludhi 64 lukwambi 5, 63 [iulenga, Ben 118 Vcrwoerd, Commissioner 34 Verwoerd, Dr Henrik 107, 110 \Val\ is Bay 96, 97, 119 \ ctiUl, Elia 45, 47 \Windhoek Central Prison 118, 132, 133, 134 Windhoek, see also Katuttra, Khomasdal 1, 34, 35, 37, 45, 53, 55, 56, 59, 75, 78, 81, 82, 86, 87, 91. 97, 105, 118, 121,122,123, 131,132, 133, 134, 137,139,143 \Vitbooi, lDavid 26 \Vitbooi, Samiel 48 World Council of Churches (\VC(;) 110 Zachariah, Lazarus Nghidinua 112 Zambia, see also lusaka 69, 71, 76, 88, 122,120, 127, 139, 144

LIVES LEGACIES LEGENDS illi, 1 Ernst Rudolf Scherz: Sudwestafrika Jahresberichte 1962-1979 Namibia (20041 ('rspriinglich for Frcundc und ll'kannte erfassr, bicten die Jahrcsberichte intensive SchildcrUngen \on Rciscn 11nd F'orschlunten, Li,and nnd lIuten und von den 'Wanderung ni zwischen z\\ci \Vclten'. Namibia Und )ctschland. Wcr sich for Felsbilder interessiert, crfihrrt \on den \lIihen und Freuden der Feldarbeit; wem die politische Situation im sOdlichen .\frika am Ilerzen liegt, sieht den Umschwung der l1960cr und 1970er Jahre, reflektiert in manchcrlei Gcschichten Lind Annotationen; ss'er iber das Alter schon nachgcdacht hat. erlebt ein Beispiel glckhaften Reifens. ,\rbeit. Politik und \lcnschcnschicksal erschcinen eingebettet in den ewigen Rhythmus der Jahrcszeiten, sei es im Wustenklima der Namib, set es in der norddeutschen Landschaft, cingebettet aber ath in der Sicherheit starker z/w5ischenmenschlicher BeZiehungen. 2 Ellen Ndeshi Namhila: Kaxumba kaNdola - Man and Myth - The Biography of a Barefoot Soldier (2005) Kaxumba kaNdola, alias Eliaser Tuhadeleni, is well remembered in Namibia for his personal courage, which made him larger than life itself. A political activist and founding member of SWAPO. he spoke up for the rights of his people. Ellen Namhila takes uIs to northern Namibia during the Apartheid era and follows Eliaser Tuhadeleni as a leader of the early nationalist movement, threatened by the South African government and eventually sentenced to imprisonment on Robben Island. She introduces us to the memories of Kaxumba's mother, his wife and children, neighbours, nurses and teachers. And she forces us to think about the morals of a society Linder occupation. 3 Ernst Rudolf Scherz: Sudwester Geschichten am Lagerfeuer erzahlt (2005) 'An manchem gemortlichen Abend, aUf der Veranda, am Kamin, am lagerfeuer, hrte ich eine Ffille von Geschichten Lind Anckdoten. Nanches da\on - wie weniges eigentlich - blieb in meinem Gedichtnis haften. lch erzihlte sic oft, sor allem auch am Lagerfeuer meiner vielen Safaris.' 314 Geschichten hat Ernst Rudolf Scherz zusammengetragen, Lind erzthlt in diesem Band aufs Neue von Diamanten und Gold, von Elefanten, L6wen, Leoparden und Geparden, von seltsamen Kiuzen, gelehrten Leuten und Prominenz, von Afrikanern und Europ'ern, kurz, von Land und Leuten und 'was mir so einfallt'.

NE 'GA C, I S LEGENDS DEMCO liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiililillifikiiiI 3 5556 037 396777

Kau b ka dl,~ ala El0a r------s-ell--membe---- nNa-iba-fo his ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~~~S pesnlcuae0hc aehmlre hnlf tefApltclatvs and fondn mebe of~ SWAPO he~ spk up fo thihsiepe In th0 bok Ele -l take us to not. r Na ii Suin th apartheid e 0a an folw Elae Tua i who as 0 lede of the Sarl 0ainls moeet wa pescue 0y th 0ot Afia Govrn en an eventuall0y setne to lif imrsomn on -*e Isad Evkn the meore of - b thog exeniv ineviw wit me br of hi immeiat .fa0ily-, *eg s and pepl wh wer nuse an teces sh foce us tothn -bou S.e moal oSfS a socet une occupatio0n. 'It is th . 0et of pepl lik th Sae.0mta lvso ohl s eebr olo back to undrsan who ''j we hav ben wh we ar 'o whr ehv-oe n our4 fondn fahes the - nae 'I /'/ .4a n and4 othrs wh ette/ieoh LVS