Another Country

Another Country

Copyright 2013 Karl De Matos

Published by Karl De Matos at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ISBN 9780620511209

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Part Two

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Explanations

Prologue

I am a story teller, not an author. I wrote this story exactly as I hear people speak.

Mostly people speak grammatically incorrect. I grew up in South Africa during the height of apartheid. This story, it’s characters and the names used are a work of fiction. Any similarity to those living or dead is coincidental. None of the events perpetrated by the police in my story have any bearing to actual events. Any incidents during the apartheid era similar to those in my story are coincidental and bear no truth. The only names that are not fictional are the names and events that were of political historical nature, thus shaping and changing the course of history in South Africa. I have described the South African society during these years by the memories of what I experienced at the time. The word Kaffir (same as Nigger) was constantly used without thinking by whites and coloureds (mixed race white with black). That’s how it was during the apartheid years. I have lived in all four main provinces within the borders of South Africa, namely: Natal; Transvaal; Northern Transvaal and the Western Cape. I found that Natal and Western Cape were not as harsh socially in the practice of Apartheid and were definitely more considerate towards non whites

Apartheid was cruel, humiliating and dehumanising, and I have made this very clear in my story. People of colour were discriminated against in general, but the Black people received the worst treatment. As History has shown not all Afrikaners or white South Africans were racist and some (including Afrikaners) even joined the A.N.C in the fight against apartheid. They were ostracized by their own people but remained determined in their quest for democracy, freedom, equality and justice for all.

I dedicate this story to one of the greatest leaders of our time, Mr Nelson Madela. A true a hero. A giant amongst men and an example of a man dedicated to freedom, forgiveness and most importantly human rights.

In South Africa:

A pick-up truck is referred to as a Bakkie

Jannie is a nick name for Johaan in Afrikaans, in English Johaan is Johnnie

P A R T O N E

Chapter 1

Jannie Van Rensburg put all his effort into the scrum playing at left flank. The 6 foot tall, blond, blue eyed 17 years old, was taking part, along with his school, in the National Championship for high school rugby. His school had the advantage of playing on home ground in Pretoria, South Africa. The year was 1978. Jannie was Afrikaans. His rivals were English. White schools were also segregated and taught in the medium of English or Afrikaans. The two very seldom mixed even socially. The Afrikaner did not like the English since the Boer war, or any nationality that was not Afrikaans and considered them outsiders, even if they were born in South Africa.

There were about seven minutes of play left, and his team was down seven points to ten. They had not beaten their rivals for the last eight years, and he had promised his father, Corrie, that he would make the difference.

These bloody rednecks are tough, complained Jannie to his team mate.

We’ll get them now. Jannie was watching their scrumhalf. It was their ‘throw in’ of the ball into the scrum and he was waiting to snatch the ball away, should their scrumhalf get it. They were about ten meters away from their oppositions try line. If they were going to score, it had to happen now. The ball came out behind their eighth man's right foot. Jannie moved as he went for the ball their eighth man pulled the ball back into the scrum with his foot and put Jannie offside. The ref blew his whistle with a loud shrill. Penalty!

Nee man Jannie, his father screamed loudly from the side line. Corrie had played wing for the Springboks, South Africa’s national rugby team, and clearly recognised the trap set by their scrumhalf and eighth man. The opposing team’s fly half kicked the ball deep into Jannie’s team’s 22 yard line gaining the security of the touchline. His team now had to compete in a line out. It was going to be difficult as it was the opposition’s penalty and also their throw in of the ball.

There was four minutes of the game left and Jannies mistake could cost his team dearly. Fanie, the team captain, was furious.

Jannie grated his teeth whilst standing in the lineout. There had always been a mutual dislike between himself and his team Captain and there was always a strong rivalry for the Captaincy between them. Jannie stood watching the opposition’s hooker throw in. The suspense was high, but Jannie was determined to get the ball. It came in fast, the ball flew out over his head. Their teams front row player jumped up grasping it firmly between his two hands, quickly passing it to his scrumhalf.

‘There is only one thing to do now’, he thought. He left the lineout and ran to join the back line at the end. He saw a gap in-between his team’s two centres. The ball had been passed by the oppositions fly half to the inside centre, who was about to throw the ball. Jannie kicked up his heels and put all his power into his stride. The interception was a thing of beauty. No one saw him as he came out from behind his back line. He caught the ball in mid air and ran straight through. He did not look back for he feared it might slow him down, hearing his father shout with glee Run Jannie run.

Everyone was taken by surprise. Not knowing how many where chasing him, and how far the opposition was behind him, he ran with all his might, feeling his heart pumping as if it were going to burst. The race to the try line seemed endless. Was he going to make it? Would they tackle him? Whatever happened he was not going to lose possession of the ball. Finally the try line was in sight. With the ball firmly tucked under his arm, he dove, turning onto his side in mid air making sure that when he landed the ball touched ground first. He scored in-between the posts. When he stood up he saw no one near him, except team mates came running up to him celebrating the score. The ref blew his whistle marking the place for the conversion. The try easily converted, the final whistle blew. This was a great way to end his school career, and Jannie was beaming with pride.

Jannie joined the South African police force in Pretoria immediately after completing his final year at high school. He had grown up in a staunch Afrikaner family. His father was an extreme racist and raised his son to be the same. His ambition was to fight crime, mainly crime committed by the ‘bloody black kaffirs’. Jannie was convinced that Apartheid was the only way the Afrikaner could survive in South Africa.

The police training camp was tough; he made some new friends and some new enemies. He especially liked his sergeant, Frik Kruger, who had always said that the only good kaffir is a dead kaffir. He had a strong influence on Jannie. Frik was a tall man who stood 6'2" and had very big white teeth with a big moustache curled up at the ends. His hair was light redish-brown and he had a small amount of freckles scattered over his broad face. He had a permanent grin, even when he was angry. He was very fond of Jannie, and always viewed him as a tribute to the Afrikaner nation. Frik managed to get Jannie posted close to home, by which he was elated. He knew that there was lots of ‘black crime’ in the area he was posted. Car theft, murders, house breakings.

Jannies station commander was Commandant Dawie Oberholster. Luckily for everyone he was a very lazy man who was only concerned with his own welfare. He was extremely intolerant of everyone including his own staff. He had held his position for too long and did not enjoy his job.

Standing at attention on his first day in front of the Commandant, Jannie was apprehensive about his future and wondered what he would be like at that stage of his life. The year was 1982, he was 22 years old. He estimated that Commandant Oberholster was a fat 53 year old. ‘Shit, I hope I don’t look like that at his age’, He thought to himself.

Koos shouted the Commandant through the open office door to his assistant Call Frylinck here.

Ja commandant replied Koos. Larry Frylinck stepped into the office. He was tall and thin with brown curly hair and a moustache hanging over his top lip.

Yes Commandant he said in perfect English.

"Frylinck, meet your new partner, Jannie van Rensburg’.

Hi said Larry, extending his hand to greet Jannie. ‘Aag nee’ thought Jannie. ‘Not a blerry rooinek’. The two men shook hands.

"Listen Larry, this boy comes from a good Boere family and I don't want you teaching him any of your soft ways. I am putting him with you because you are a good and fair policeman. But I'm also hoping that some of his hardness will rub off on you".

Yes sir replied Larry, smiling.

I have a good report on this boy from Sergeant Frik Kruger at the training college, so don't you spoil him.

No sir replied Larry. The two men walked out of the Captain’s office, with Jannie feeling rather out of place. Larry seemed to have such a cool and laid back manner about him. It was as if nothing could perturb or instil a sense of urgency in him. This had a calming effect on Jannie. It was now half past nine in the morning.

It’s late, let’s go, said Larry. Even then Larry did not appear to be in a hurry.

Where we going? asked Jannie.

There's a black guy been stealing cars in the Verwoerdburg area, we have to try and catch him.

A black guy? asked Jannie, You mean a kaffir.

Look Johnny. You call them what you like, but don't expect me to do the same.

Hey, don’t call me Johnny. Where do you come from anyway? Asked

Jannie. They climbed into the police van¹. Slamming the door, Larry leaned over and said, Durban, Natal. The last English outpost in South Africa with a sarcastic look on his face.

Ag no, shit, not only a rooineck but a Nataler as well! cried Jannie.

Yes, and there Jannie is Johnny, ok...Johnny!

‘That’s it! This guy is going to call me Johnny and there’s nothing I can do about it’ thought Jannie

Do you know who this black, agh, I mean kaffir is? Jannie asked.

I have an idea. We do have some informants, but they are reluctant to talk

Well, we can beat the hell out of them to make them talk

No. That’s not the way we do it, if you beat these guys they shut up then you'll get nothing out of them.

They arrived at the Verwoerdburg turn off where Larry turned left, drove into Verwoerdburgstad and parked in front of the O.K. Boulevard.

Just follow me and let me do the talking. Larry instructed.

Larry walked around the side of the building and turned at the end of the boulevard into to its main walkway. Johnny followed quietly. They came to a narrow passage way which had a sign board pointing towards the toilets. ‘What’s Larry going to do now? Is he going for a piss?’ thought Johnny. As they came to the end of the passage a black man stepped out of a doorway and stood in front of Larry. He was a short, stocky man.

Philemon said Larry in greeting.

Who's this? asked Philemon in a very distrusting tone

He's my new partner replied Larry.

I'll talk only with you, Larry

You can trust this man, you have to trust him, we work together now, and we'll both protect you. Larry promised trying to put Philemon at ease.

Ha, how can a boy protect me? asked Philemon.

Listen you blerry kaffir, I don't want to protect you, I'd rather kill you said Johnny angrily revealing his short temper.

Shut the fuck up said Larry to Johnny grabbing his arm and pushing him out of the passage stopping just before the exit. Johnny tried to break free but couldn’t.

‘This guy is strong’ thought Johnny

This is the only reliable lead I've got to these car thieves, don’t mess it up, you got that?

Ok, ok, said Johnny, writhing in pain as Larry held his arm. He let Johnnies arm go with a violent shove, and they went back to Philemon who was still standing there.

Apologise said Larry.

What? asked Johnny?

Apologise now Demanded Larry looking Johnny in the eye with fierce determination. There was silence while the men stared at each other. Larry was 28 years old and slightly taller than Johnny which seemed to intimidate the 22 year old. Johnny turned to Philemon and said I'm sorry. Philemon smiled a broad smile exposing a few rotten teeth.

Apologise in Afrikaans demanded Philemon.

Come on complained Johnny.

Do it demanded Larry once more. Again a moment of silence.

Ek sê ek is jammer, sighed Johnny,

Ek vra om verskooning

Mooi replied Philemon.

Now I can trust you. Come, we must get out of here

They followed Philemon up the long passage, past the ablution blocks into a well lit store room. There was no one else there. Johnny now saw Philemon clearly under the harsh florescent lighting. He judged him at being about 60 years old.

The man you are looking for is a member of the A.N.C. But first, I've got to know, how am I going to be protected, and what about my family?

We are planning to take you and your family into protective custody, and then send you back home with a job that we'll arrange for you, said Larry

Protective custody, what does that mean?

It means we'll put you in jail for awhile laughed Johnny.

Shut up! I told you, let me do the talking said Larry impatiently.

Philemon looked at Larry and asked Is this true?

Yes, but don't be afraid. It is the safest place for you .There are a lot of police around and it will only be for a short while

I don’t know. I’ve never felt safe around the police, no black person does.

Larry took a deep breath and said listen Philemon, you are a Zulu, a fellow Natalian. I’ll take personnel charge of you, and your family’s safety. Besides what choice have you got, you know what those bastards have threatened to do to your daughter if you don't co-operate. If you do work with them, eventually you will be arrested for real. Come on, let’s get you out of here and back to your little farm in Zulu land.

O.K. said Philemon pensively.

The man you are looking for is named Simon Skosana. He leads a gang of five members. They want me to give them the registration numbers, makes and models of cars that stand in the parking areas for long periods of time every day. That way they will know which cars are the easy targets.

Where do we look for this Simon Skosana asked Johnny.

For the first time the old man looked at Johnny without hatred in his eyes, but more with a look of a man pleading for help.

He lives in the Tembisa Township in the same area as me replied Philemon.

So let’s go get him said Johnny turning to Larry.

"Don't be stupid, they may be black, but we still need evidence. What did they teach in that police college, just how to beat up blacks? Anyhow we have to make sure that Philemon and his family are safe before