Marching in the footsteps of MK hero Solomon Mahlangu

Solomon Mahlangu has inspired a new generation of students with his martyrdom for the struggle. Rea Khoabane speaks to those who were close to the freedom fighter, who was hanged aged 22.

It was on a Friday night in September 1976 that Solomon Kalushi Mahlangu left his home in Mamelodi for good. His elder brother, Lucas, a prison warder, was doing a shift that night.

It was only on the Sunday that Lucas discovered a letter and realised that young Solly had left the country.

Lucas recalls the moment vividly. "I found a letter under my pillow: 'Boet Lucas, Boet Lucas, Boet Lucas, don't look for me, I have left and you'll never find me, Solomon.'

story_article_left1

"I ran into the house shouting: 'Mother, Solomon is gone!'"

Born on July 10 1956, Solomon was the second son of Martha Mahlangu. The family lived together at number 2445H, Block C West, in Mamelodi - one of the typical four-roomed matchbox houses built in apartheid townships.

Solomon and Lucas, who was three years older, used to sleep in a tin shack with two single beds, while their mother lived in the main house.

Reflecting on those days, Lucas says Solomon showed no signs of being involved in politics. But he believes the events of June 16 1976 affected him deeply in ways his loved ones were not aware of.

"At that time, every child in the township felt the need to be involved, but we never thought Solly would skip the country.

"Solomon seemed like a normal township boy who loved playing soccer in a nearby open field after school.

"He loved working with his hands. He was never a lazy boy; he was smart, he read a lot and loved woodwork."

Lucas recalls that his brother used his skill to install a wooden ceiling in his mother's bedroom to absorb the noise when rain pelted down on the tin roof. He also made a side table for himself.

block_quotes_start Why are you crying in front of these dogs? I don't care what they do to me. And if they spill my blood, maybe it will give birth to other Solomons block_quotes_end

Raised by their mother on her meagre pay as a domestic worker, Solomon was known to be caring, gentle, compassionate and respectful. But he also liked making jokes and teasing people.

He helped supplement the household income by selling vegetables at the train station.

Like most Ndebele boys, Solomon went to an initiation school, near Middelburg, where he went through the rites of passage at the age of 16 to become a man. There is a picture of him with his nephew, Ephraim Chiloane, dressed in traditional attire. They went to the mountains the same winter.

Lucas says Solomon wanted nothing more than to study. He believed his education would be his family's liberation. "We were hoping he was going to get educated and free us from poverty."

full_story_image_hleft1

Solomon left South Africa to be trained as an Umkhonto weSizwe soldier in Mozambique and Angola. He spent six months in a refugee camp near Xai-Xai in Mozambique and then received military training at an ANC camp in Angola.

On his return from Angola in 1977, Solomon, George "Lucky" Mahlangu and Mondy Motloung were first sent to Mozambique, where they were looked after by President Jacob Zuma, who was then an MK operative there.

"Solomon was the product of 1976, his consciousness was awakened and he knew then that he had to go to exile," says the president.

One of Zuma's roles in Mozambique was to ensure safe passage for recruits into Mozambique, and their return to South Africa with weapons and instructions from the MK leadership.

"I was given an order to fetch and look after three boys and prepare them for their journey as MKs. That's the first time I came across Solomon," says Zuma. "I had to arrange a place for them to stay and I looked after them for a couple of days, before I sent them off.

mini_story_image_vright2

"In those few days that I spent with them, we discussed a lot of politics but mostly I was getting orders how to train them under the direct command of Joe Slovo and Chris Hani," Zuma says.

"Throughout my interaction with them, I realised they were very determined young people."

On June 11 1977, Solomon, Lucky and Mondy crossed the border into South Africa and started making their way to Johannesburg with large suitcases filled with pamphlets, rifles and hand grenades.

Two days later, they were climbing into a taxi in Diagonal Street in Johannesburg when a policeman became suspicious and grabbed one of the suitcases. An AK47 assault rifle and a grenade fell out. The three fled - Lucky in one direction, the other two running towards Fordsburg.

A shoot-out ensued in Goch Street during which two people were killed. Solomon and Mondy were eventually arrested.

"We heard on the radio that there was a shooting in Goch Street and two black guys have been arrested [for] acts of terrorism," says Lucas.

"We then received a call that Solomon and Mondy have been arrested and he's at the Pretoria Central Prison."

His family waited an agonising three weeks before they could see him. "While we waited to be told when we can see him, we heard rumours that he entered the country with guns and pamphlets that were going to disrupt the nation," Lucas says.

"When we saw him, his face was swollen and everything was confiscated so we don't even know what was written on the pamphlets. We stared at him for a while and then my mother broke down in tears."

At this moment Solomon told his mother: "Why are you crying in front of these dogs? I don't care what they do to me. And if they spill my blood, maybe it will give birth to other Solomons."

block_quotes_start My blood will nourish the trees that will bear the fruits of freedom. Tell my people I love them and they must continue the fight. A luta continua block_quotes_end

Priscilla Jana, Solomon's lawyer, says her relationship with him became more than that of lawyer and client. Both believed in the liberation struggle and free movement.

"I was not only his lawyer, I was his friend. All the time I spent talking to Solomon, I was enlightened by how intelligent he was. He was an introvert, a thinker, and never spoke about his personal life.

"He wanted to know more about black leaders like Robert Sobukwe and Nelson Mandela.

"Solomon had devoted his life to fighting the apartheid system, hence he said: 'Even if they kill me, there will be many Solomons.'

mini_story_image_vleft3

"The moment he was arrested, he knew there was no winning with the system that was vacuous and cruel. He knew he was going to die, he was ready to die - he didn't want to be saved," Jana says.

Solomon's trial began in November 1977 and ended in March 1978.

"We didn't understand why Solly's trial was so quick. Every week we were in court, it's like they wanted to get rid of him and didn't want to waste time doing so," says Lucas.

The judge accepted that Mondy Motloung was responsible for the actual killings, but since he had been so brutally beaten during the course of his capture, he had suffered severe brain damage and was unfit to stand trial.

According to law, common purpose had been formed and Solomon was found guilty on two counts of murder and three charges under the Terrorism Act.

On March 2 1978 he was sentenced to death by hanging. This without firing a shot.

Jana and her team of defence lawyers worked tirelessly to try to save Solomon from the hangman's noose.

She believes the state wanted to make an example of him to prove to the white community that it was in control.

"When the judge sentenced him to death, he shouted 'Amandla!' while walking down the stairs of the courtroom and I shouted 'Amandla!' back to him, because his family was already taken out and the court was full of white people."

His legal team fought desperately to have the death sentence commuted to life imprisonment.

Recalling her last fight the week that Solomon was executed, Jana says she went to plead with Desmond Tutu to fly to Cape Town and persuade then president PW Botha not to execute Solomon.

"We were so desperate that I slept outside Tutu's house to make sure he took the flight in the morning. Tutu flew to Cape Town but there was no luck of him speaking to the president."

story_article_right3

Jana was the last person to see Solomon the night before he was hanged. "We had our last meeting at 10pm and during that time he did not reflect on anything that would make him regret his decisions.

"I made a promise to him that I will continue his fight."

The warders told her that when Solomon was going to be hanged, he sang Nkosi Sikelel' iAfrika while walking with his hands and feet in shackles.

He said: "My blood will nourish the trees that will bear the fruits of freedom. Tell my people I love them and they must continue the fight. A luta continua."

Almost four decades after his execution, student protesters across the country honour him with song, arms stretched out:

"Iyho uSolomon!

Isotsha lo Umkhonto weSizwe!

Wa yo bulala amabhunu eAfrika!"

This translates as: "Oh Solomon, the Umkhonto weSizwe soldier. He killed Boers in Africa."

Jana believes young people today idolise Solomon because, 22 years into democracy, they are still fighting the same fight he fought.

Lucas recalls how the Mahlangu family were told on a Monday that his brother was going to be hanged that Friday.

"They said he was going to be hanged at 8am, but when we arrived at 6.45am, we were told he was hanged at 6am. We found a coffin with his name on it."

Solomon was hanged on April 6 1979 at the age of 22.

full_story_image_vleft4

Lucas says his mother never recovered from the loss of her child. She developed high blood pressure from the trauma and had to give up her job.

In 1993, Solomon's remains were moved to Mamelodi. Every year the family celebrate his birthday by slaughtering a goat to give thanks to him as their ancestor.