COMMISSIONER
(Inaudible) ... that you are too upset.  Just take a few minutes to recover.  We know it must be very difficult for you now.  (Pause)   Then I told my other children to close the ID and put it away, and I asked them whether he had come.  They said no, he had not yet come.  And it was quite a surprise because it was the first time that he hadn't come home, because it was late already.  And I kept on talking to myself, wondering as to what had happened.  I slept, and we woke up the following morning and I went to my relative's place where my father's sister had died, and I asked my sister-in-law as to where my son was.  She told me that he had gone on Wednesday, and she thought that I had taken my child.  Then I said to my sister-in-law probably my child was dead, because if he went away on a Wednesday, and by Saturday he was not yet at home, there could be something wrong that had taken place.  I came back to Durban and I told my neighbours as to what had happened.  Then on Sunday my neighbours accompanied me.  We went around looking.  I didn't even know where to go.  My sister-in-law at that time had earlier told me at the funeral that my son had received a letter from certain males who were staying at Amawoti, and these youths were comrades, and he had been called by these youths.  We went around looking for him at hospitals as well as mortuaries.  We went around explaining, but we did not seem to be accepted.  I think the corpse was there, but the way we described him probably led to some confusion or misunderstanding.  We went back without finding him on that particular day.  Then on Monday my husband's relatives came.  They said they wanted to help me look for my son.  We went to school where he was schooling.  We were told that he had gone to Amawoti together with that group of people who were comrades, because there were a lot of comrades at that time, as well as Inkatha members, who went around burning people's houses.  We went around looking for him.  We even stayed at Ndwedwe without getting any help.  We went back home on that particular day, and we were doing this up and down looking for him.  Then on Tuesday we went to Verulam and we tried to get some clue as to where he could possibly be, because we were told that he had gone to Amawoti, but nobody was prepared to volunteer any information to us.  We searched for him until the afternoon on that particular day, until we reached a resolution that we should go ask some soldiers to help us look for him.  Then on a Wednesday morning we went to the soldiers.  They accompanied us.  We went to Amawoti together with my other daughter.  My daughter went with the soldiers.  I was left at that place called Entabeni.  At about 1 o'clock during the day they got a telephone call - the police station got a telephone call from Amawoti that they should come and collect a corpse.  The policemen from Entabeni told us that they had received information that there was a corpse at Amawoti, and we should go and identify the corpse.  We followed the police car together with my brother's child.  When we got to the police station we saw the corpse, but it was not my son's corpse.  We reported this matter to the police station that we were also looking for a corpse, and we described my son, and that we had suspicions that he had died in Amawoti.  The policeman I was speaking to said there is a corpse that was discovered on a Thursday morning, but they were not the ones who took the corpse.  The corpse was taken by the Phoenix police, so we should go to Phoenix to investigate.  We went to Phoenix, and we were given the number of the corpse, and we went back to Verulam with the number.  And when we got to Verulam we identified him, but it was difficult for me to identify him because he was swollen all over the body.  I was relieved to see the corpse because I wanted to buy my son.  I wanted to give back to God whatever he had given to me.  I was relieved, and I waited for the funeral and I ultimately buried him.  After the burial I was never quite the same because my son was the apple of my eye, and he was the most understanding child amongst my other children.  He was quite different from them.  Then I started getting heart problems.  My heart started getting sore, and I now recalled that there were certain youths who came who were bought cold drink, and I thought probably the two youths who had come had killed my son, because I don't know what they wanted in my house.  Even today I still tell myself that they were not the only ones.  Probably it was a group, and the two were sent to come and look for my son.  And what pains me even more is the fact that my children tried to entertain them by buying them cool drink and biscuits, only to find they were the ones who were looking for my son.  And whenever I saw schoolchildren, especially wearing their uniform, I couldn't bear to look at them, because when my son died at that age he was still at school.  And each time I went past a certain place called Bester I usually saw my son crossing the street, proceeding to school.  Even though he was not there, but he was in my imagination.  Even after I had counted years, and told myself that by now he should have probably finished his matric, he could be working and he could be helping me, and I keep on counting years and imagining the things that he would be doing for me if he was alive.  Because he was my only hope.  He was very constructive as a child.  He showed some signs that he cared so much for me as a parent, because even when he was holding this temporary job he used the money to help with the household expenses.  He would give me the money and I would give him some pocket money, and we would use the other money for the other children.  So I knew deep down inside my heard that at the end of the day he would be the one amongst the other children who would help me.  And I took him as the breadwinner who would take care of his sisters as well as other brothers.  Now this troubles me so much