The Forgiven Page #5

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Mr. Chairman,

I have lodged a complaint

with the Public Protector

to have a declaration

that this proceeding

is a politically motivated slur

against my client's

honor and integrity,

and that of the SADF.

Really, son?

This farrago...

is alienating a large sector

of white South Africa.

Now, if that was your intention,

you have achieved it.

And I do not see

how this furthers the aim

of peace and reconciliation.

Everyone,

we are taking

a five-minute break, please.

Mrs. Morobe,

Kefilwe,

what are you still doing here?

We're just sitting.

See,

tomorrow, Mpho is turning 20.

I have candles to light.

Twenty.

You should go home.

When I get news of Mpho,

I will tell you, I promise.

Oh, she was...

always wanting to study.

Perhaps to be a doctor.

She always saved for books.

Yes.

Kefilwe knows.

How can I pray for her

if I don't know what happened?

Good evening.

So how did it go?

Interesting.

Well, I see you won't come in

for your cocoa,

so I come out here.

Good night.

This music always reminds me

of President Mandela's

inauguration.

I played it for them.

They wanted to know

about that day.

But how do you convey it,

that sense of freedom?

That, uh, that first moment,

the taste of it.

That sweet, sweet nectar.

How do you convey it

to someone who was born

into freedom?

You can't. You can't.

Oh, my dear, drink your cocoa,

it's getting cold.

Remember...

those jets

flying overhead,

streaming smoke

in the colors

of the new national flag

and...

everybody cheering.

Yes. And you dancing

with that fat white businessman

like two seals.

He wasn't a businessman.

That's what I was telling them.

He was Nelson Mandela's...

ex-jailer.

And we were dancing because...

those jets flying overhead,

they were ours.

Not someone else's.

Ours.

We were free.

I hope we don't let

this slip away.

Oh, no.

And what is it you were really

thinking about out here,

my dear workaholic?

Hmm?

Mrs. Morobe

and her niece

have been waiting

at the Commission

every day this week.

I... promised.

Mpilo,

with your illness,

you know I've had mixed feelings

about you continuing

the chairmanship.

Huh? What?

Why didn't you tell me before?

Oh, Desmond Mpilo Tutu,

you are incorrigible.

There's still some life

in this old goat yet then, huh?

And I know it's important

for Mrs. Morobe,

for all of us,

this Blomfeld man.

Lavinia wants me

to get you to promise

never to see him again.

She says he's very dangerous.

She showed me his letter.

God knows what goes in his head.

He's very clever.

That doesn't mean that

he should get the last word.

Yes, which is exactly why

I asked Varney

to get you his file.

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