LIE ON YOUR
WOUNDS
LIE ON YOUR
WOUNDS
The Prison Correspondence of Robert Mangaliso Sobukwe
Selected and edited by Derek Hook
In association
AFRICAN LIVES
Published in South Africa by:
Wits University Press
1 Jan Smuts Avenue
Johannesburg 2001
Compilation © Derek Hook 2019
Published edition © Wits University Press 2019
Images © Copyright holders
First published 2019
http://dx.doi.org.10.18772/22019012408
978-1-77614-240-8 (Paperback)
978-1-77614-241-5 (Web PDF)
978-1-77614-242-2 (EPUB)
978-1-77614-272-9 (Mobi)
This book is number 14 in the African Lives series, an independent writing and publishing initiative that aims to contribute to a post-colonial intellectual history of South Africa. The series editor is Professor Andre Odendaal, Honorary Professor in History and Heritage Studies, University of the Western Cape.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher, except in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright Act, Act 98 of 1978.
All images remain the property of the copyright holders. Every effort has been made to locate the original copyright holders of the images reproduced here; please contact Wits University Press in case of any omissions or errors.
The letter on page 524 reprinted with kind permission of Frances Suzman Jowell and the Helen Suzman Foundation.
Images on pages 53, 127, 333, 415 and 491 taken by Derek Hook.
Images on pages xv and 3 courtesy of Peter Magubane.
Images on xvii and xx courtesy of the SA Jewish Museum and the Jewish Digital Archive Project.
Images on back cover and on page 221 reproduced with permission from the Sobukwe family.
Image on page 15 courtesy of Wits Historical Papers, photographer unknown.
Project manager: Julie Miller
Editor: Russell Martin
Proofreader: Janine Loedolff
Indexer: Sanet le Roux
Cover design: Hybrid Creative
Typesetter: Newgen
Typeset in 11 point Crimson
Table of Contents
Preface by Otua Sobukwe
Address at Fort Hare College Delivered by Mr Sobukwe, October 21, 1949
Preface
By Otua Sobukwe
My Robben Island Awakening
During the apartheid regime, Robben Island was the most notorious prison in South Africa. Enclosed in its prison walls were struggle icons whose names we continue to celebrate today – Sisulu, Mandela and many other unsung heroes. Amongst them but purposely separated was Robert Sobukwe, a freedom fighter who was banned to solitary confinement for leading an anti-pass march campaign that galvanised people on the path to the country’s democracy. About thirty years later, the same island became the home of a young, adventurous little girl – me; his granddaughter. I lived on the island with my uncle who worked there for 8 months.
Paradoxically, Robben Island is one of the most beautiful places in the world. But when you put yourself in the shoes of a prisoner, there comes a shift of perspective.
Suddenly, things begin to lose their beauty.
The blueness of the sky loses its colour, as candyfloss clouds morph into grey patches, the singing tune of seagulls begins to mimic a pained cry, the once tranquil ebb and flow of the sea is now melancholic, yearning, and, more so, the mainland, its shimmering lights, their faintness, is no longer picturesque, no longer romantic, but just a cold reminder of the separating distance and the harsh reality, the harsh juxtaposition, that you are indeed alone.
The seven-year-old me was oblivious to this atmosphere of solitude. The place where my grandfather stood for his battle, longed for his family, and wept in his loneliness was the same place that framed my warm, explorative childhood. I didn’t realize the weight of the island nor the significance of its history.
But ten years later, I understood. Intimately complex and profound – I realised that somehow my surroundings had brought me closer to a man that I had never met and opened my eyes to an identity I had never fully grasped.
That my roots are of an African soil has never been an incongruity to me. I have always wholly embraced my African identity; I am of its branches, its rivers, its auburn sunsets. However, when I returned to Robben Island, now seventeen, it occurred to me, this sudden epiphany, that I am not only a reflection of Africa, but a continuation of AfriKa. And these two Afric(k)as