Goodbye Bafana Page #2

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Excuse my ignorance, sir,

but what is B Section?

That's where we keep Mandela

and all his mates.

I need someone on the inside,

someone who speaks their language.

I want to know what they think,

how they think.

Anything you find odd

in their letters or their visits,

you report directly back to me.

I want you to be my window

into their soul, if they have a soul.

Hell, and here I was thinking

I was going to spend my first year

working bloody night shifts.

-You can if you want.

-No. Please, no, sir.

It would be an honour for me

to run the Censorship Office.

I won't let you down.

You let me down,

you let your country down.

I would never do such a thing.

Of course not.

Well, I don't know about you,

but I'm bloody starving.

Let's go and get something to eat.

-They asleep?

-Finally. Too much bloody excitement.

The Colonel's wife, Joyce,

is coming over tomorrow for a cut.

She bakes, so she'll pay with a cake.

And Hettie,

you know that nice captain's wife?

Her husband dives for crayfish,

so that's how she'll pay.

-And that woman with the grey hair...

-Gloria.

What?

They're putting me

with Mandela and Sisulu and them.

No?

They want me in charge

of the Censorship Office.

My God, James!

Why didn't you say something?

I wasn't going to blow my trumpet

in front of all those bloody officers.

This is big, my boy! Mandela?

Never mind that.

I report directly to Pretoria.

This is fantastic! Did they say anything

about a promotion?

In due course, I was told.

No more Discipline Warder for me.

From now on, I am in charge

of the worst terrorist

this country has ever seen.

Do you know how many bridges

he's blown up?

Do you know how many police stations

he and his Umkonto we Sizwe

have bombed?

Didn't I say this was going

to be our island in the sun?

-Didn't I say that, James?

-You sure did, Booky.

Put your backs into it, you lazy Kaffirs!

Stand up, you slack bastards!

Three days half rations

for insubordination!

Attention!

I'm your new censorship officer.

If you want to post a letter,

you do it through me.

One letter every six months,

no longer than 500 words.

No reference to other prisoners,

no mention of prison conditions,

and no bloody politics!

If you fail to adhere to these regulations,

your letters will not be posted!

If you receive a letter,

it comes through me.

Same story, one every six months.

Any mention of politics

and that letter will be censored.

Is that clear?

You f*** with me

and I'll make your life

a lot more miserable than it already is.

And I'll enjoy doing so!

-Which one is Mandela?

-He's in solitary.

Five days for talking in the passage.

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