MS ZULU
In 1967, that was in December, I was coming back from school, Escourt, I was still in standard four at that time and I last saw my father in December 1966 when I went to Escourt together with my sister.  The whole of 1967 I never saw my father because I was at school, we were in
Durban.  Mine is quite a distinct story because I was still in Durban when this whole thing took place.  Then when I came back at the end of 1967, when I was coming back from school, I heard that my father had come and he had gone to work at Siemens and at the time I was 12 years old.  
 Then in January 1968, that is on the second of January, it was during the week, it was myself, my mother as well as my elder brother, my last, well the last born at home was not present at that particular time.  A certain gentleman came, I had already forgotten his surname, but I have just remembered it, his name was Mr Enjapa.  When he came I was in the bedroom and he spoke to my mother and said, Mrs Zulu, your husband has been killed and my mother actually asked him questions as to what had happened and this gentleman explained that my father had died from a headache and at that point in time he went out without explaining further as to what had actually happened.  My mother called me and sent me to Mrs Inklenyena's house to pass on the message that my father had since died and at that time I was still very young and I was not fully conversant with what my mother was saying.  I just did not understand what she was telling me and I knew that I was the apple of my father's eye and I wanted to know as to how my father died and my mother told me that I was not going to see my father anymore and I wanted to know as to when and where he was buried.  My mother told me that I should go to Mrs Inklenyena to report whatever she had been told.  Then at that time I think I was still very young.  
 It was on the second of January 1968 before the schools reopened and my mother's relatives came.  My mother wore a mourning garment, that is a black garment that is worn in 
mourning or during mourning.  Then I asked as to when my father was going to be buried because I knew that if a person died he was supposed to be buried and my mother told me that we were still going to look for my father's corpse.  On the following Friday my mother told me that we should go to my father's place of employment and when we got to the office she was given two shirts that belonged to my father as well as a trouser and a small suitcase.  These, the things that my mother was given at my father's work place and the office is still existent, but I do not know whether the same people are still working there, but I do know where this office is situated.  
 A month lapsed thereafter and we re-opened the schools.  My mother received a letter and my mother called me as well as my other siblings and she showed us the letter that was calling her to come and fetch my father's death certificate.  They went, that is herself and my elder brother, they went to the offices and they brought along the death certificate and I asked them as to where Ruanda is and she explained to me that Ruanda is somewhere in Central Africa and she explained to me that he had been in Ruanda, that is where he died.  Now that I am old I know where Ruanda is and I know where my father died, but what troubles and disturbs me is that after my father died I was very troubled because we never got to bury my father as a result I never came to terms with my father's death because I do not know how he died and where he was buried.  
 I also want to know as to who wrote the death certificate that my father died in Ruanda.  I want to know as to what was my father doing in Ruanda because the last time I saw him he was in South Africa and I want to know as 
to why he was killed, what had he done.  I would request this honourable Commission to find more information about my father.  If possible, if they could find his bones, I would appreciate it because I would like to bury him myself because I believe that it is our culture, our black culture, that if a person dies, he is supposed to be buried.  I would even like to see his grave.  I do not know whether it is possible for me to go to Ruanda to see his grave.