FREEDOM DAY | Paying tribute to the lesser known foot soldiers

My older brother and I listened to a Pirates and Chiefs game on the then radio Setswana one fateful but defining day back in 1972, with two of our farm schoolteachers from the local township. The new craze back then was Chiefs. I did not know any better. I was too young. I did not have any team I supported. I celebrated with my brother and one of the teachers when Chiefs started scoring.

The game turned out to be a goal fest. Chiefs won 7-3, with Bizzah Dlamini and Johnny Mokoena each scoring a brace, while Banks Setlhodi, Ariel Kgongoane and Kaizer Motaung were also on the scoresheet. During the course of the game, I think it was the sixth or the seventh goal, the other teacher asked: “Am I the only Pirates supporter?” Instinctively and unhesitatingly (and as if I’d been waiting for that question to be asked), I said “Ee, lenna ... no, me too”.

That’s how I became a staunch Pirates supporter. Not in their moment of glory, but in their worst defeat. That was my first moment of rooting for the underdog, and I’ve been wired that way ever since.

Scientists say the love for underdogs is real. They say we root for underdogs for a number of reasons that include that deep down we want the world to be just, to be fair.

When I started learning about politics at varsity, my attention was never so much on the big names like Mandela, Tambo or Sisulu (Thabo Mvuyelwa Mbeki became the only outlier). My attention was always on Sobukwe, Biko, Abram Onkgopotse Ramothibi Tiro, and the lesser known foot soldiers of my time who were detained for years without trial, like Terry Tselane, Pascal Moloi and Chris Ngcobo. And later on when information became freely available, it was on the foot soldiers of decades earlier, especially those who paid for freedom with their lives.

When I voted for the first time in my life on April 27 1994, I voted for the ANC nationally and PAC provincially. I dedicated both my first ever votes to the memory Looksmart Ngudle. I have, since then, paid silent tribute to Looksmart every Freedom Day since. Including today, except today is not going to be a silent tribute. (As an aside, I’ve never been inside the national parliament in Cape Town — and I’ve been inside at least 20 times over the years — without thinking of, or failing to pay tribute to Looksmart).

Looksmart, husband of Beauty and father of six children, was born on May 22 1922, at KwaZali village, near Alice in the Eastern Cape. His mother, Notyhume, named him Looksmart because when he was born she thought he looked smart.

Though he looked smart, he was uneducated, having attended school until standard 6, when he left to work at Crown Mines in Joburg as gold bearing rock malaisha (loader) for about two years.

He was a Member of the ANC, SACP, SACTU (yes, it was in existence then, it was formed on March 5 1955) and Commander of MK.

He was arrested on Monday, August 19 1963, under the 90-day detention law. He was badly tortured while he was at Caledon Square police station in Pretoria. Around August 23-24 1963 he arrived at Pretoria Central Prison. On September 3 he was allowed into the exercise yard where he saw Govan Mbeki and dropped him a note stating, “I am being tortured. My back is full of weals.”

He died two days later on September 5 1963. He was tortured. His back was full of weals. He was the first person to die in detention. Yes, he was. The apartheid Special Branch, first formed under the regime of BJ Vorster, falsely claimed that Looksmart committed suicide. That he had hanged himself using his pyjamas. To prevent investigations into his treatment during arrest and life at the prison, four days after his death the apartheid state banned him. He was the first person to be banned post-mortem.

On March 1 2007 Looksmart’s body was exhumed by the National Prosecuting Authority’s missing person’s task team. I found out after the fact. Only The Star newspaper covered the occasion. I don’t remember there being a ceremony. Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note was issued, no distant and random gun was fired, no talk of the gallant spirit that was gone. My soul was tortured. It was full of weals.

Today is Freedom Day. However, as the songwriter of old reminded us, “kwasho uMandela kubalandeli bakhe: Inde lendlela esiyihambayo.” Some Day We’ll All Be Free. Some Day ... “I am being tortured. My back is full of weals.” Solwandle Khulile Looksmart Ngudle is Dead! Long Live Solwandle Khulile Looksmart Ngudle! Salute! Respect. Amandla.