1. The apartheid system was maintained through repressive means, depriving the majority of South Africans of the most basic human rights, including civil, political, social and economic rights. Its legacy is a society in which vast numbers of people suffer from pervasive poverty and lack of opportunities. Moreover, those who were directly engaged in the armed conflict (whether on the side of the state or of the liberation movements) suffered particular kinds of consequences.
2. The consequences of repression and resistance include the physical toll taken by torture and other forms of severe ill treatment. The psychological effects are multiple and are amplified by the other stresses of living in a deprived society. Hence, lingering physical, psychological, economic and social effects are felt in all corners of South African society. The implications of this extend beyond the individual - to the family, the community and the nation.
3. When considering the consequences of gross human rights violations on people's lives, it is hard to differentiate between the consequences of overt physical and psychological abuses and the overall effects of apartheid itself. This makes it difficult to make causal links or to assume that violations are the result of a particular experience of hardship. In many instances, however, violations undoubtedly played the most significant role as, for example, when a breadwinner was killed or when the violation caused physical disabilities, affecting individual and family incomes.
4. It must also be remembered that human rights violations affect many more people than simply their direct victims. Family members, communities and societies themselves were all adversely affected. Moreover, the South African conflict had effects far beyond those who were activists or agents of the state; many victims who approached the Commission were simply going about their daily business when they were caught in the crossfire. Human rights violations can also trigger a cascade of psychological, physical and interpersonal problems for victims that, in their turn, influence the functioning of the surrounding social system.
5. This chapter addresses some of the consequences of gross human rights violations that were reported to the Commission. It attempts to report on the patterns and trends in relation to psychological effects, physical consequences and how these have affected families and communities in South Africa. In order to obtain a full picture, it should be read in combination with the chapters on Children and Youth and Women.
METHODOLOGY
6. Numerous sources were used in compiling this chapter, including national and international literature, testimony presented at various hearings of the Commission, statements, interviews with statement takers and briefers and input from Commissioners and staff.
Use of statistics
7. Statistics cited were generated from statements made to the Commission. Out of a total of some 21 300 statements, 2 000 were selected as a sample, proportionally weighted according to region. The sample was randomly selected and focused on the consequences of the violation(s), as perceived by deponents, as well as on expectations of the Commission.1
8. It must be borne in mind that information generated from the sample reflects the consequences and expectations as expressed in the entire statement of the deponent and that the majority of statements do not reflect the experience of one individual only. Often deponents referred to a violation of a person or persons other than or in addition to themselves - for example, other family members, comrades and friends. A deponent might, for instance, refer to the death of her son, but highlight the consequences for her grandchild's education, her daughter's emotional state and her own financial situation. This reflects the communal consequences of gross human rights violations and the ripple effects they have on families and communities.
Questionnaire bias
9. Another factor that needs to be taken into account is that of statement taker and questionnaire bias. In the 'expectations' section of the questionnaire in particular, suggestions were included to guide the deponent. These suggestions included items such as peace parks, memorials, medals and other similar forms of reparation. However, although often guided by these requests, deponents also listed individual or family needs. An example of this is reflected in the statement by Mr Buzifa Mbambo who requested "housing, employment, clinics and treatment for my elbow."
PSYCHOLOGICAL CONSEQUENCES OF GROSS VIOLATIONS OF HUMAN RIGHTS
10. South Africa's history of repression and exploitation severely affected the mental well-being of the majority of its citizens. South Africans have had to deal with a psychological stress which has arisen as a result of deprivation and dire socio-economic conditions, coupled with the cumulative trauma arising from violent state repression and intra-community conflicts.
11. Trauma has both a medical and psychological meaning. Medically it refers to bodily injury, wounds or shock. In psychological terms, it refers to "a painful emotional experience or shock, often producing lasting psychic effect."2
12. Exposure to extreme trauma can lead to a condition known as post-traumatic stress disorder. This may be caused by:
3
13. Perpetrators of human rights violations used numerous tactics of repression, with both physical and psychological consequences. These found their expression in the killing, abduction, severe ill treatment and torture of activists, families and communities. Psychological damage caused by detention was not merely a by-product of torture by state agents. It was deliberate and aimed at discouraging further active opposition to apartheid. Jacklyn Cock says:
Torture is not only considered as a means of obtaining information on clandestine networks at any price, but also a means of destroying every individual who is captured, as well as his or her sense of solidarity with an organisation or community.4
14. Mr Mike Basopu, an activist during the 1980s, was arrested in 1986. At the Mdantsane hearing, he told the Commission that activists were aware of the possibility that they might be tortured:
As the freedom fighters, we were struggling; we knew the consequences. What I am trying to say is that, when we were fighting against the whites - when we were fighting against the Boers - we knew that we were going to be harassed.
15. This awareness did not, however, protect Mr Basopu from the physical strains he experienced when he was detained in Fort Glamorgan Prison. He recognised that the role of torture and ill treatment was to inflict permanent damage on activists and limit their future activities. "These prison warders were trying to treat us [so] badly that if we were released from prison we would not be able to continue with our struggle."
16. Psychological abuse in torture can be divided into four types:
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17. The South African security forces and third force agents used a combination of these techniques.
18. The intention of torture was not to kill victims but to render them incapable of further activities on their release. Mr Mapela became aware of this during his detention and goaded the police to kill him. In 1964, after being arrested by police who wanted information about a colleague, he was severely tortured and hung on the bars of the cell with handcuffs. He told the Commission about his continued resistance in prison:
There would be Boers coming in and out with a gun. They would put it against my neck. I would ask them to pull the trigger. They refused. Some of them would come and hold a knife against my neck. I would ask them to cut my head off. They would refuse.
19. In 1981, Brigadier Rodney Goba Keswa was arrested and detained by the Security Police in the Transkei and was subjected to mental torture. At the Lusikisiki hearing, he described his first view of his cell the morning after his first bitterly cold night in detention:
When dawn eventually broke, I had the first opportunity of looking around my cell. What I saw still haunts me to this day. The wall on the one side of my cell was smeared with faeces. The spot where the night soil bucket stood was a pool of urine ... The blankets were old, threadbare, smelly, dusty, coarse, with tell tale signs of perverse sexual acts. I tried walking towards the door, but I staggered about sick to the bottom of my gut ... I remembered stories about tactics of killing someone without laying a finger on them.
Psychological problems
20. Internationally, the best-documented psychological consequences of human rights violations relate to the effects of torture. Torture can lead to wide ranging psychological, behavioural and medical problems, including post-traumatic stress disorder whose symptoms include "re-experiencing of the traumatic event, persistent avoidance stimuli associated with the event and persistent symptoms of increased arousal not present before the traumatic event."6
21. Post-traumatic stress disorder is not, however, the only consequence of torture and human rights violations. Other problems include depression, anxiety disorders and psychotic conditions. The effects are multidimensional and interconnected, leaving no part of the victim's life untouched. Exposure to trauma can lead to sleep disorders, sexual dysfunction, chronic irritability, physical illness and a disruption of interpersonal relations and occupational, family and social functioning.
22. In many statements made to the Commission, deponents described symptoms of psychological disturbance. Although many deponents and victims referred to their symptoms, it was not possible to diagnose actual disorders or problems based on the statements and testimony at hearings. However, the following examples illustrate the kinds of psychological problems that resulted from gross human rights violations.
23. In 1987, after he refused to join the African National Congress (ANC) Youth League, Mr Bhaki George Morake's house in Botshabelo township was burnt down. He described the effects of this on his wife at the Bloemfontein hearing:
From 1987, my first wife had lost her mind - until the 1994 elections when we separated ... She might have suffered some anxiety, because she didn't really act like a normal person ... When our house was petrol bombed, the bomb fell on the bed on which she was sleeping. Then I noticed thereafter that she was quite depressed.
24. Mr Sizwe Kondile went into exile in response to constant harassment by the police. In 1981, he was arrested and killed in detention. At the East London hearing, his mother, Ms Charity Nongqalelo Kondile described the effects on the family:
Lindiwe and Sizwe have been very close, were very closely placed. Lindiwe never reconciled. She never accepted the fact that her brother [had] been killed. Until recently she suffered from depressive psychosis which the doctors at the hospital referred to as some depression that has been bottled up for a long time, and I feel that this [was] the result of all that she has been bottling up for all these years.
25. Ms Elizabeth Sizane Mduli was shot and paralysed while attending a school boycott gathering in Nelspruit in 1986. From being a fit athlete, she became physically disabled and has since suffered from psychological problems:
My mind, my mental state, is unstable. At times I just stop thinking ... I realise that it seems as if I am a bit insane.
26. Many victims reported problems of memory loss and emotional numbness.
27. Mr Morgan Sabatha Phehlani was a councillor whose home and business were burnt down by youth in the course of a community conflict in 1991. Mr Phelani's son was eleven years old when he witnessed the stabbing and burning of his mother. Since this incident, he has suffered psychologically:
You know, he goes and forgets. He forgets, now and then he forgets. You must always remind him. That's the trouble we're having with him.
28. Ms Nobuthi Winnie Ncaca's sixteen-year-old son, Mawethu, was shot and killed by the police in Cradock in 1986. Since his death, Ms Ncaca has been suffering from psychological problems. At the Cradock hearing, she told the Commission:
My memory was affected, if you tell me something I just forget. I always forget.
29. Mr Johannes Petrus Roos spoke of the death of his wife and son in a landmine explosion in 1986. He and his other two children witnessed the explosion. He described the effects on his daughter at the Nelspruit hearing:
It was not easy, an easy time for my five-year old daughter who had turned six, who had to go to school the following year without her mom. It was not easy to explain all this to her. That child never cried. That child doesn't cry today either.
30. Mr Mthembeni Sipho Magwaza was attending a peace rally when members of the Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP) abducted him and five of his friends. One of his friends and five other people were shot and killed. His shop was later looted and destroyed. He described his psychological state:
I am a living zombie; psychologically and emotionally, I am dead.
31. Jose Saporta and Bessel van der Kolk have identified two common consequences of traumatic events.
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32. The torture of Mr Abel Tsakani Maboya's wife resulted in her psychological breakdown and subsequent social withdrawal. Mr Maboya's cousin was a member of Umkhonto weSizwe (MK), based in Tanzania, and was sent on missions to South Africa. Both Mr Maboya and his wife were arrested with a view to extracting information about the cousin's activities. Ms Mboya was tortured and suffered psychological damage as a result. At the Venda hearing in October 1996 Mr Maboya told the Commission that their marriage had not survived these experiences:
She is a sensitive person actually. I think there are some other people, people that would believe that now we are not free. Those nightmares are still there. She can't face crowds like this. I tried by all means for her to make a statement so that people will - she was beautiful to me, I don't know what happened to her.
33. Feelings of helplessness also undermine people's sense of themselves as competent and in control of their fate.8 This makes them incapable of picking up the pieces of their previous lives.
34. Mr David Mabeka was a youth activist who was arrested and tortured in Barkly West in 1986. He described the consequences of his experience at the Kimberley hearing:
In 1993, I went back to school to do my standard nine. It was not easy ... I would forget things most of the time... The life that I'm leading now is a bit difficult. I cannot cope because of this Double Eyes and Rosa and their friend [those who arrested and tortured him]. I don't know why should I live with this pain, knowing that I was defenceless.
35. Mr Lebitsa Solomon Ramohoase was shot in the 1960 massacre at Sharpville. He told the Commission at the Sebokeng hearing that he sustained permanent injuries to his leg and had subsequently struggled to find employment:
My life changed. I led a miserable life. You know my feelings changed altogether. But I didn't know what kind of help I [could] give myself and I was satisfied. I said I have to be satisfied because it is something that happened to me. I am helpless; I can't do anything for myself.
36. Political activists were less prone to post-traumatic stress disorder, owing to their commitment to a cause and their psychological preparedness for torture. Mr Mike Basupo (see above) was arrested for his activities in 1986. He referred to the strength that may be drawn from such commitment:
The circumstances I was under and many people were subjected to was very painful. However, we must remember that, even if you were released from detention under such circumstances, you would not give up. You would continue with the struggle for liberation.9
37. International studies have shown that non-activists, even if subjected to lower levels of torture, display significantly more severe symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. The less the psychological preparation for the trauma of torture, the greater the distress during torture and the more severe the subsequent psychological problems.10 The Commission's statistics provide evidence of this phenomenon.
38. Psychological re-experiencing of the event can have debilitating consequences for survivors trying to rebuild their lives.
39. Mr Mike Wilsner is a friend of Father Michael Lapsley, a member of the ANC who was injured in a parcel bomb explosion in Harare on 28 April 1990. He told the Commission about Father Lapsley's condition after the bombing.
He would wake up at night, screaming, re-living the bomb. I wanted to touch him but everywhere you looked - everywhere over his body was red and swollen and painful. There was nowhere to touch him. We were grateful that he was alive, but we were very aware that his life would be changed irrevocably from that moment on.
40. At the Johannesburg hearing Ms Hawa Timol spoke of her pain after the death of her son, Ahmed Timol, at the hands of the security forces:
I told them [the police] that if my body had a zip they could open the zip to see how I was aching inside.
41. Another son, Mr Mohammed Timol, described her enduring pain:
I think it's an indication, from what you see here, she has lived through this every day of her life for the last twenty-five years.
42. Ms Doreen Rousseau was shot and injured during an attack on the Highgate Hotel in 1993. At the second East London hearing, she described the lingering effects of trauma:
I still have terrible nightmares. I wake up in the night and I see this man standing in my doorway with a gun.
43. Recurring thoughts of traumas that have been experienced continued to invade the lives of many South Africans. Mr Madala Andres Ndlazi's sixteen-year-old son was shot by the police on 16 June 1986. At the Nelspruit hearing, he told the Commission that memories of his son's death haunted him to that day:
I found my child brought to the home. I found him in the dining room. He was lying dead there in the dining room. When I looked at him, it was very painful for me to see how injured he was - and I controlled myself together with my wife as Christians. We knew very well that we will have to die one day but we know there are many ways to pass away from this earth. But the way in which my son, Sidney Ndlazi, was injured, it makes me very painful. I cannot forget this. It is almost ten years now.
44. Many members of the state forces, both conscripts and career officials, also described their experiences of post-traumatic stress disorder. Some perpetrators may also be considered victims of gross human rights violations and there is a need to address their struggle to live with the consequences of their experiences and actions. Others found themselves caught up in and traumatised by situations over which they had no control. Mr Sean Callaghan told the Commission at the health sector hearing:
[I was] confronted with a patient who had no arms or legs, was blind and was deaf. [He] had been in a mortar pit launching 80mm mortars when one of them exploded in the pipe. That was the first patient I ever saw in the operational area.
Right there and then I realised that, as an eighteen year old, I am not going to be able to handle this after six months of training. I had applied for medical school ... and I went for an interview with Wits medical school during [my] leave, and said to them, "I don't want to be a doctor anymore, not after what I've seen" ...
I was hyper-vigilant. I was having screaming nightmares every night for at least six months. I was very anti-establishment, anti-social. I was cold. Whenever I heard a loud noise, I would dive to the ground. When I heard helicopters, I would look for somewhere to hide.
45. The tendency for the original trauma to reactivate after many years is a troubling and challenging aspect of post-traumatic stress disorder and reveals its persistence. The long-term relationship between physical disease and post-traumatic stress disorder in torture survivors is complex and presents a challenge for researchers in the field.
46. High rates of co-morbid (simultaneous) symptoms have also been found, including major depression, dysthymic disorder (a less severe form of major depressive disorder), antisocial personality disorder and substance abuse.11 Surprisingly, few deponents referred to alcohol or substance abuse as an outcome. This could be due to the high levels of acceptability of the use and abuse of alcohol in South African society or a lack of probing by the Commission's statement takers.
Treatment in the South African context
47. In South Africa, the area of mental health has been historically neglected. There are few trained psychologists and clinical social workers, and few attempts have been made to provide culturally appropriate mental health care to all South Africans. At the time of reporting, mental health care still consisted largely of institutionalisation.12
48. Moreover, dire social circumstances have made it difficult for individuals to deal with past psychological traumas. At times, current problems are merely symptoms of long-term traumatisation, compounded by impoverished living conditions. In South Africa, successful therapeutic interventions are difficult, because of the inability to protect the individual from further trauma.13
49. Mr Lennox Mbuyiseli Sigwela was paralysed during a police shooting and attack by Witdoeke vigilantes in Crossroads in 1986. Once the family breadwinner, he became dependent on family members. His situation provides an example of the interconnectedness of psychological, physical and economic consequences of human rights violations. At the KTC hearing, he told the Commission:
We are struggling, we are struggling. The children at my home are suffering for new school uniforms, for clothes. That is why I will never - although I have accepted this - I will never, I will never forget what happened because, when I look at the way we struggle at home, sometimes I feel like committing suicide.
50. It is therefore difficult to distinguish between the response to the psychological effects of the violation and other stressful events in the life of the victim. Studies do, however, provide evidence that, in some individuals, exposure to violence has psychological effects independent of other associated factors causing stress.
51. It is also suspected that diagnoses of mental illness were also used to silence activists or opponents by condemning them to institutions where they were under the control of the state. Doctors and mental health professionals are alleged to have advised torturers on how to identify potential victims, break down their resistance and exploit their vulnerabilities.
52. The above factors led to resistance to seeking formal psychological treatment. Statement takers found that the suggestion of a referral for psychological treatment was often met with a rebuttal such as, "I am not mad". Mr Robert David Norman Stanford, a victim of the attack on the King William's Town Golf Club on 28 November 1992, agreed that there is a reluctance to recognise that one is psychologically damaged. He described the difficulties he had experienced in connection with his psychological problems at the East London hearing:
No one is prepared to accept that you're not quite normal. And you tend to fight against it and you tend to try and uplift yourself; you tend to try and show that you've returned to a state of normality whereas, in fact, you haven't done so.
53. Others who sought treatment found difficulty in obtaining it14. Mr Sean Callaghan (see above) told the Commission:
Around that time, I remember phoning my mother and telling her that I wasn't sure if we were actually going to survive the night because we had got to the point of being completely suicidal. We had come to the end of our tether. We had been involved in that kind of thing - seeing patients, seeing people killed for twelve months already - and all I wanted to do was go and heal people and not kill them ...
We went to see the local psychiatrist who was resident in Oshakati and the major in charge of South African Medical Services up there, and we were basically told to grow up and carry on; there was nothing wrong with us ... There was no debriefing. There was no "what happened to you?" There was no "this is what you can expect when you go home. This is how you should try and integrate yourself back into society."
I do remember a letter, I think, being sent to our parents with ten points on it, saying something like: "You had better lock your alcohol and your young girls away because these young boys are coming back home". But that was the extent of the support we got ...
I saw a psychiatrist ... He declared me fit for battle and sent me home [saying] that there was nothing wrong with me. The point is that I wasn't fit to be a father and I wasn't fit to be a husband, but I was certainly fit to pull the trigger of a gun.
Essentially, I think I am pretty healed. I think I have come to the point of being whole. I have my emotions back. I am a father. I am a husband and I can do those things pretty well. But no thanks to the SANDF or SADF for helping me.
54. In order to heal, trauma victims must ultimately put words to their experience and thereby integrate the traumatic experience in order to find new meanings for themselves and their place in the world. An essential feature of recovery from trauma is re-establishing and normalising relationships of attachment with others.
55. Yet, while many victims of violations spoke of psychological problems that resulted from trauma, many others spoke of the strength and resilience they drew from friends and comrades in times of hardship. Courage, love and support networks kept many families and communities functioning and intact.
PHYSICAL CONSEQUENCES OF GROSS VIOLATIONS OF HUMAN RIGHTS
56. Physical injuries and disabilities caused by torture or severe ill treatment exact an immense toll on the individual, community and society. Physical scars and disabilities have been described by one survivor as: "a tattoo, a permanent physical reminder of what was done to us, a symbol that in many cases brings shame."15
57. Most physical injuries caused by torture result from blows to the body. An increased risk of infectious diseases, malignancies, cerebrovascular accidents and heart disease has also been reported in survivors of torture or prolonged arbitrary detention.16
58. Ms Evelyn Masego Thunyiswa was arrested on her way to attend the funeral of Steve Biko in 1977. At the Mmabatho hearing she told the Commission that she had been beaten and shocked on her genitals:
After torturing me like that, they trucked us off the road. When I tried to urinate, I was urinating blood. Because I left on my own - it was not through the permission of my parents - I was scared to even tell my mom where I had been to because of the whole situation. I stayed like that for a month or two. I remember I went to the doctor in the beginning of November and then I said to my mother I have tonsils, because I realised this sickness of mine was getting worse and worse.
59. Despite receiving treatment, Evelyn reported recurring symptoms.
In 1992, the pains came back. The pain that I felt when I was tortured came back in 1992. That was the same pain that I felt when I was tortured. As I [told] you, when it attacks me I stay three or four days not going outside and I cannot even urinate. I have never given birth since that time and I am a married wife.
60. Physical injuries and disabilities were also sustained in shooting incidents, physical attacks and beatings, as well as in failed assassination attempts by hit squads. Father Michael Lapsley (see above) described the extent of his physical injuries:
It blew off my hands. I lost an eye, my eardrums were shattered ... I'd faced the possibility of my own death and I had never - I'd never - sorry, but I'd never faced the possibility of major permanent disability.
61. He articulated the devastation that he felt:
I thought maybe it would have been better to have died when I realised I had no hands. I'd never met another human being with no hands. I didn't know whether life would be life in any meaningful sense. They didn't know whether I would ever see properly again. I lost one eye - [I] couldn't see properly out of the other. I couldn't hear properly because the eardrums were shattered. I was burnt extensively.
62. Mr Neville James Clarence was blinded in the Church Street bombing at the Air Force Headquarters in Pretoria on 20 May 1983. He described his physical rehabilitation at the Pretoria hearing:
I was able to slot in with ... a course presented by the National Council for the Blind, a rehabilitation course which I duly did attend a few months later. And I was taught to read and write Braille, to touch type on a typewriter. I was also taught various skills of daily living: how to pour a glass of water without spilling; how to dress myself; how to ... recognise various things around the house simply through touch. I also received training in the use of a long cane - a white stick in other words - and how to walk around town and how to orientate and find myself in case I get a bit lost walking in town.
63. Physical disabilities fundamentally alter the victim's life. Ms Elizabeth Sizane Mduli was an eighteen-year-old student during the 1986 school boycotts in Nelspruit. During a protest gathering, she was shot by the police. At the Nelspruit hearing, she told the Commission:
What worries me, and what actually made me feel very painful, it is because I am not a member of any organisation and I am not actually a person who is affiliated to any movement. But today I am crippled because it is just [that] I was found at school. That was my sin.
64. She described her deteriorating health since the incident.
I have a problem with my chest. At the back, I am always tired. I have a problem with my bladder. I am sickly at all times. I have a pain that keeps haunting me every day. There are times when I urinate blood. I was fit, I have to tell you; I was an athlete at school.
65. Physical disabilities may exacerbate psychological problems, as the victim suffers not only from pain and other afflictions, but may also suffer a loss of independence and dignity. On 4 June 1987, Mr Namadzavho Phanuel Davhula was shot in a case of mistaken identity. The wound to his shoulder resulted in a permanent physical disability. He described his anguish at the Venda hearing:
I hope that everyone who is here is able to realise that the government really did malicious damage to me because I can't even wash myself. People have to bath me. But in the past, I used to bath myself. This is painful.
66. At the first East London hearing, Mr Karl Webber told the Commission:
I lost my left arm. It was amputated at the elbow, below the elbow. I've got 80 per cent use of my right arm plus three fingers are not in operation.
It took me plus/minus a year to teach myself how to get dressed, to feed myself. There are things I can't do. I can't get to the right hand side of my face because of the fixtures in my elbow. I need assistance when I need to be shaved. I need assistance when I need to be bathed. And there are many other things that I need to be helped with which I can't do. I've tried to sort of cope on my own, but it's a bit difficult. So, there is someone that assists me, helping me with things.
I can't accept charity for the rest of my life. I can't accept to be looked after for the rest of my life. I want to be independent, and I want to lead a normal life again.
67. Random shootings by the police into demonstrating or fleeing crowds resulted in many physical injuries. A number of victims who came to the Commission were blinded in such shootings. When Ms Sibonisile Maloma was a fifteen-year-old student in Nelspruit, she was shot by the police while returning home from a school boycott:
We took different directions to go home. And when we approached the corner I saw a Hippo17 and a gun was pointed at me, they shot me with this pellet gun, and I was unconscious.
68. Ms Maloma was blinded as a result of this attack and had to halt her education. According to her father:
Today my daughter doesn't see. She has lost everything, her future as well.
69. Such incidents were echoed in many statements made to the Commission. Ms Amina Elizabeth van Dyk told the Commission at the Pollsmoor hearing that she had been shot with birdshot by the police in 1985:
I lost my one eye and it bothers me because I get these sharp pains in my eye. I get migraines and then sometimes I want nothing to do with my children because of the pain. This has caused me to lose my job, my house and my medical aid benefits and I have got absolutely no income.
70. There is also evidence that people exposed to trauma, even indirectly, are more likely to develop stress-related illnesses such as heart disease and high blood pressure. Ms Daseko's son Sam was a student activist who died in detention in 1990. She described the effects of his death on her own health at the Bloemfontein hearing:
There is a lot of difference because, at times, I would feel my heart shaking and sometimes - so many things have changed in my life. I get terrible headaches at times.
71. In 1989, Mr Modise Elias Moiloa's brother was killed in an attack by members of an organisation calledDikwankwetla. He told the Commission at the Bloemfontein hearing that his parents manifested physical symptoms of the stress:
My mother and father, after the death of my elder brother, both of them suffered from high blood. They are still very sick.
72. Thus, physical injuries have multiple effects, not only on the individual but also on the family and community as a whole. Physical injuries and disabilities cause or exacerbate psychological, economic and social problems, substantially altering the lives of victims and those around them.
FAMILIES
Disruptions to Family Life
73. In 1984, Mr Anton Lubowski became a publicly declared member of the South West African People's Organisation (SWAPO). This marked the beginning of a road that led to tragedy, pain and suffering, not only for him but also for his wife, his children and his loved ones. At the Heideveld hearing, his mother, Ms Molly Lubowski, said he became a social outcast and was treated as if he had some kind of contagious disease. Mr Anton Lubowski was assassinated on the 12 September 1989.
74. As a core structure in society, the family should be protected and supported by the state. Apartheid generated a crisis in South African family life. Group areas legislation and forced removals have both been linked to disruptions in healthy family functioning, and the migrant labour system also deprived people of family life. Children were denied fatherly guidance and support during their formative years and the fact that women were obliged to take on domestic work meant that children were denied the care of their mothers. In trying to deal with these problems, extended family networks came into play.
75. The pressure on families was relentless. They experienced poverty and the degradation of living conditions in the townships, rural areas and informal settlements. Malnutrition was rife. Migrant labour policies meant that many fathers were away from their children for long periods and, perhaps more seriously in a patriarchal society, separated mothers from their children for long stretches. Even those parents who were able to live with their children worked long hours, sometimes leaving before the children went to school and coming home after they were in bed. In many cases, a traumatised child was simply an extra burden on the family; yet another problem for his or her already overburdened parents.18
76. In South Africa, the roots of violence were partly political, but were also exacerbated by demographic and socio-economic circumstances. Socio-political factors, such as the structural, economic, cultural and racial inequalities imposed by the former state, led to and exacerbated violence: According to McKendrick and Hoffman (1990) 19:
The objective conditions of inequality make it clear that South Africa is a highly stratified society, characterised by intense structural and institutional injustice and violence.
77. Constant exposure to violence may lead to desensitisation, a situation where a person may deny his or her feelings. Responding to conflict with violence became a typical, rather than an isolated, phenomenon. Violence in South African society is also reflected in domestic violence such as wife and child abuse.
78. The particularly grim situation in KwaZulu-Natal was described by Ms Nosimelo Zama at the Durban hearings on children and youth.
The stress on family life created by the constant pressure of the violence in this province cannot be underestimated. Children of depressed mothers would end up running away from home, because at home they are being neglected because their mothers are too depressed and sad to take care of them. Parents were separated in the violence; others were taken by the police and, up until today, they have never come back home. Children are now living with grandparents or sisters, and these people who are caregivers are facing problems because they can't provide all the needs for these children.
79. The social pressures caused by apartheid and the repression associated with it have resulted in changes to the family structure in South Africa. Some families have been unable to withstand the pressure, whilst others have harnessed support and nurture from extended family networks to ensure their survival.
Invasion of homes
80. The invasion of homes by the police and security forces in house-to-house searches affected families badly. Homes were neither private nor secure and parents were unable to protect their children.
81. The police displayed flagrant disrespect for homes and families in their quest to suppress opposition. Ms Edith Mjobo, whose children were activists in 1985, described the regular invasion of her home at the Gugulethu hearing:
In 1985, the police were after my twins, Zandisele and Zanisele. They were looking all over for them. They would come to my home looking for them and they would be all around the house searching for them, and they would keep the doors with their guns, and my twins would go out of the backdoor and run.
82. The police had a sense of their own omnipotence and sometimes even seemed to view other people's homes as their own territory. Ms Mjobo told the Commission:
Sometimes they used to come in the morning and they stayed in the house for the whole day ... and my husband couldn't even go to work because of this.
83. Even families where activists had gone into exile were not free from harassment by the security forces. Mr Leon Meyer was an MK activist who was killed in Lesotho in a South African Defence Force (SADF) cross-border raid in 1985. At the Mdantsane hearing, his brother, Mr Christian Meyer, told the Commission about the harassment his family endured before Leon's death:
He was definitely regarded as an enemy to the apartheid regime. My late parents' house was frequently visited and on some occasions searched by the East London Security Branch policemen.
84. After Leon's exile, "the harassment of my parents, who were both suffering from cancer at the time took on a new dimension". In 1985, Christian's mother passed away. Five months later, his brother and sister-in-law were assassinated during the raid in Lesotho.
85. Vigilante attacks also affected entire families. Many of these attacks were conducted in and on people's homes. Mr Modisi Elias Moyhilwa (see above) testified:
On that very same night, they attacked my aunt's home and my brother was there. When they were asked what the problem was, they said they were looking for comrades. My aunt never wanted to open the door; she refused. Thereafter they kicked the door. They bored holes into the door. It was no longer a door... when my brother came out, they chopped his head with a panga20.
Arrest of family members
86. Detentions and restrictions had devastating effects on families, communities and society at large. The effects of detention are extremely dehumanising as the detainee becomes powerless and his or her life is no longer predictable. Detention separates the individual from family, friends, comrades and colleagues. A general sense of impotence and low self-esteem may result. Added to these stresses are fears and worries about the welfare and safety of family and friends. Mr Tshabalala's cousin, Edward Viyu Charles, was a United Democratic Front (UDF) activist in Welkom. He was constantly harassed and, in 1987, was killed by the police. At the Bloemfontein hearing, Mr Tshabalala described how the entire family was threatened:
They were people who kept on harassing him. Those were the law people. They were using death threats and they threatened that they would wipe the whole family out.
87. In this repressive context, people lost their individuality in the eyes of the security forces, who saw them simply as symbols of resistance or political affiliation. Family members were regularly detained in order to extract information about the whereabouts of wanted persons, as an enticement for wanted persons to come forward or confess or to provide an example to other possible dissenters. Three of Ms Edith Mjobo's (see above) sons were activists in the Cape in 1985:
As they were looking for my son, they used to arrest my husband. And they used to cover his face with black plastic bags, asking him where my twin [son] was. They were torturing him all the time and they were torturing his genitals. And he became sick because of this. He couldn't continue working. So, he was not working at this time. One day when I looked at him, his ears were bleeding and he suffered a lot until he died.
88. Mr Trayishile Samuel Zwelibanzi was arrested by the Ciskei police in 1984, in connection with the murder of a police officer. After two years of torture, they arrested his mother, at which stage he finally confessed to the killing. At the Mdantsane hearing, Mr Zwelibanzi described his experience:
They said that they are going to destroy my family members because they ... said they are not going to allow terrorists in this area. They went to fetch my mother. Baleni took me from the prison cell to show me my mother. My mother was in that cell. She was naked. There was blood all over that prison cell. I then admitted to the killing.
89. Mr Zwelibanzi's sister, Ms Nosisi Florence Giya, spoke of the ripple effects of his arrest on the family:
What my brother has already said is that we suffered a lot. My mother was arrested. My mother was staying with my daughter and my brother's girlfriend. The girlfriend was pregnant at the time. A child came to the house saying that the police have arrested my mother. This child [had also been] assaulted by the police. The child was injured. Again the police came and they took my son, Amos Giya. They assaulted him. As a result of this, he ... is mentally disturbed.
90. The search for children who had been arrested also placed a heavy burden on mothers and other family members, who often went from one police station to another at great emotional cost.
The effect on the mothers was devastating. The feeling of impotence was regarded as a failure on their part to protect their child and most certainly affected inter-generational relationships of dependence, trust and security.21
91. Upon their release, many already stressed individuals were freed into a stressed society. Others faced the additional burden of restrictions - including house arrest, being prohibited from participating in the activities of organisations and being prevented from attending meetings. Restrictions made recovery from detention more difficult, as the individual had to deal with the after-effects of detention, as well as the effects of the restrictions. Social networks suffered and the isolation of the restricted person continued outside the cell. Many victims came from families that were already under financial pressure and whose economic welfare had been affected by the detention of one of its members. Moreover, the costs of transport to and from the police station in order to report in accordance with the restriction order added to other demands on the family budget. Restriction orders also made it difficult to obtain employment or to continue with schooling or studies.
Separation of families
92. Arrests, detentions, abductions, restrictions and exile of family members affected the cohesion of families, with negative effects on family relationships. Ms Nozizwe Madlala-Routledge's political activism began in the 1970s when she became an organiser and chairperson of the Natal Organisation of Women. At the Durban hearing, she told the Commission that: "like many women who joined the struggle against apartheid, I was harassed by the police and detained a number of times." She described the disruptions this caused to her family and the impact on her children:
My first child is now fourteen; [he] grew up before his time. At two years of age, he saw his father detained, tried and sentenced to a prison term of ten years. Although he has grown up to [be] a gentle young man, at that tender age he had learnt to hate. When I took him to visit his father at Johannesburg maximum security prison, he shocked me one day when he said, "Mama I hate the police". He said, "I hate them because they locked up my father". He was five years old when I was detained myself and taken away from him. My mother tells me that during that time he used to complain of pain, physical pain, for which there was no physical explanation.
93. Separations in families often altered family relations, especially if the detained person was a parent. Sometimes other family members took over the role of head of the family or breadwinner and did not wish to relinquish this status when the detainee was released. Very young children sometimes regarded released family members as strangers. Adaptation could be difficult if the released person was suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.22
Sowing distrust in the community
94. A part of the state strategy in suppressing communities was to undermine the unity of resistance through a system of informers (both real and alleged). This was highly effective in creating a climate of suspicion and breaking down trust both within and between families and communities. Ms Edith Mjobo (see above) told the Commission that:
They [the police] used to come to try and bribe the person, the people in the township, because they told the people in the township that my son was a 'terrorist' and if someone could come and tell the police where he was, they would get money.
95. The consequences of being exposed as an informer were social isolation and, sometimes, physical danger. Communities were constantly on guard against informers in their midst. Moreover, being falsely accused could have extremely distressing consequences for the affected person and his or her family. Mr Simon Lufuno Mariba was arrested and tortured on suspicion of participating in a witch burning in Venda. After being severely beaten, he finally convinced the police of his innocence and was released. His early release sparked suspicion in the community. He told the Commission at the Venda hearing:
The parents of the people who were involved, since I didn't know their names, thought maybe I was there when such activities [took place] and regarded me as a spy - and I was labelled as a spy. And I was unaccepted; people never wanted to accept me ... I couldn't even concentrate on my studies since everybody was hating me and that really affected me so much that I never passed my matric.
Inter-family conflicts
96. Conflicts that arose because of the apartheid system led to tension within some families, sometimes spilling over into violence. At the Pietermaritzburg hearing (19 November 1996), Father Timothy Smith told the Commission that Mr David Ntombela, a feared induna (headman) in the Pietermaritzburg area, is alleged to have killed his own brother in full view of members of the community.
97. Ms Ndamase described how she left home to go to Durban in search of a job and joined the forces against apartheid. When she returned home in 1991 with the intention of launching a branch of the South African Communist Party (SACP) in her village, she was arrested. She described the consequences at the Lusikisiki hearing:
My children are uneducated; I abused them by joining the struggle. But today I don't see anything happening to me. There was conflict in my family because of all of this. The government is doing nothing for me.
98. Politics entered the Phillips family home because of divisions between the ANC and IFP. Mr Moses Ntsokolo Phillips, an ANC member, was hit in the face with the butt of a gun by his cousin, an IFP member. He was then taken to the home of his uncle who was also an IFP member and further assaulted.
99. Other family conflicts were intergenerational. Parents did not support their children's activism because they feared for their lives. Often, too, they were concerned about disruptions to their children's education. Misunderstandings and conflicting interests strained intergenerational relationships. Mr David Ryder Mabeka was a youth activist in Barkly West in 1986. At the Kimberley hearing, he spoke about the tensions between some of the politically active students and their parents:
I realised that many parents at that time thought that I ... didn't want to go to school. And they thought that I would take their children out of school. There were lots and lots of allegations from the parents. I think it's because they didn't understand quite well the political situation at that time.
100. Intergenerational conflicts also occurred in white families involved in defending the apartheid status quo. Mr John Deegan, a South African Police (SAP) Security Branch conscript and later a member of Koevoet, described his attempts to communicate his traumatic experiences to his more conservative father:
Although I tried to tell him that there were incidents that I was involved in that caused me great guilt and remorse, he would not believe that his son could have been involved in anything so dishonourable.23
101. Emerging young leaders challenged traditional patriarchal hierarchies and elders increasingly lost control over the activities of younger people. Mr Morgan Sabatha Phehlani was a councillor whose home and business were burnt down by youth in intra-community conflict in 1991. In his view:
That's the trouble that we are having in the smaller towns, you know, that you find these youngsters - they call themselves ... young leaders; they are leading a section. But looking at them, you find they are so terrible; they are hooligans; they are undisciplined.
102. The emotional and financial pressure experienced by families sometimes led to strained relations with young activists in the home. Detention and political activism gave some young detainees a sense of independence and autonomy, and they found themselves unable to revert to their earlier roles in the family. Others felt that their families would not understand what they were doing or why, and wanted to protect them from the knowledge of their activism. The reality that parents often did not know what their children were doing was reflected time and again during hearings and in statements. At the Bloemfontein hearing, Ms Pumla Marina Mashoang, whose son was killed by the security forces for his role in the South African National Students Congress (SANSCO) in 1988, said she was not clear about her son's role:
I believe he was holding a prominent position because he had a van that he had been given, so I think he was organising for the Free State.
103. At the same hearing, Ms Daseko, whose son was killed in detention, also said she was not acquainted with her child's activities outside of the home:
Sam used to tell me that he was going to meetings, but I couldn't understand ... which meetings was he going to. I think [he] was fond of the ANC.
104. Ms Evelyn Masego Thunyiswa was detained and severely tortured. At the Mmabatho hearing, she told the Commission that, despite her suffering, she was unable to tell her parents of her predicament:
Our parents used to hate politics during that time. My mother was actually not in favour of politics. If you said anything about politics, she would tell you that you are against the law.
105. Owing to her inability to communicate with or draw support from her parents, the only person Evelyn confided in was her husband:
This has been my secret for quite a long time and I am glad that the Truth Commission is here and I am now talking this out. It is only my husband who knows this whole story.
106. When asked at the Nelspruit hearing whether his son was a member of an organisation, Mr Madala Ndlazi (see above) replied:
There is nothing that I can say because really they don't tell you. They just disappear from home. You don't know what they are doing on the other side.
107. Thus, in many families, even where activism did not generate outright conflict, a shroud of secrecy often affected intergenerational relationships. In some families, political activism was seen as operating in a sphere outside of family life. This was sometimes linked with parents' feelings of helplessness about the public realm of politics. This lack of communication was aggravated by disruptions to family life, caused by the absence of parents who worked as migrant labourers, domestic workers, or because group areas legislation and other apartheid laws prevented them from living with their families.
Family killings
108. In some families more than one family member died, with tremendous implications for the survivors. The Manyika family was awakened on the night of the 17 June 1992 by a vigilante attack in Sebokeng. Although the children managed to escape, both parents were killed:
We have lost our parents. As I'm talking, we are only the kids at home. My sisters and my brothers, especially the two boys, had to quit school because there was no breadwinner at home. We had to go and look for some jobs.
109. Their survival became a terrible struggle:
The ones who were still going to school were four. One of them was Mavis but she has completed standard ten. The other one is Anna, she's in standard ten and Elizabeth, she's in standard four and Godfrey, he's in standard three. And Godfrey hardly ever passes at school. Especially after this event he's not performing well at school.
110. Also in Sebokeng, Mr Ernst Sotsu spoke of a triple family killing. After surviving years in the underground, Sotsu finally settled in the Vaal area and joined the Vaal Civic Association which was vehemently opposed to black councillors. When the IFP emerged on the political scene, the conflict escalated. He and his wife were both intimidated by the police and the IFP:
On the 3 July 1991, whilst attending an African National Congress meeting in Durban, my family was attacked. My wife Constance, my daughter Margaret and grandson Sabatha were shot dead with AK47's at close range ... Two of my grandchildren, Vuyani and Vusi narrowly escaped death but were seriously injured with bullet wounds.
111. This attack affected the entire family, resulting in the deaths of family members across three generations.
The burden of death
112. The death of family members has many negative consequences. The effects of the loss are exacerbated by the responsibility of having to inform other family members of the loss as well as by the financial burden of funeral expenses. At the Heideveld hearing, Mr Kama described the anguish of his family after the police killed his brother-in-law:
Who would contribute to his funeral, where would his funeral be held and how would we take the body home? ... And even then, we were still left with the burden of informing the mother plus the burden of knowing what to do with the body.
113. The low value many police officers placed on black people's lives was evident in the death of Ms Nobeki Mbalula, who was shot and killed in a random police shooting in Cradock. When the family confronted the police and told them that they had shot a woman who was breast feeding a baby, the police response was, "the corpse can breast feed the baby."
114. After killing Nobeki, the police continued to harass the family.
On the Monday, they came to the house. They kicked down the door; they ate food; they took food from the fridge and ate.
115. The death led to additional burdens on the extended family.
I had this baby to look after. Because I had no help, I had to take these children to my sister-in-law's ex-husband.
116. The distress caused by the death of a family member was, in some cases, exacerbated by a sense of betrayal by trusted forces, such as the liberation movements. At the hearing on prisons, Mr Joseph Seremane gave testimony about the execution of his brother, Chief Timothy, in the ANC camp known as Quatro.
I come here on behalf of my family. I come here to express my feeling of betrayal by compatriots and comrades. I come here to express our disappointment and the way we feel cheated of a dear little brother, a promising young man, a brilliant young man.
117. For other families, the pain of the loss of a loved one was perpetuated because the opportunity for appropriate rituals for grieving was denied. Mr Tshabalala (see above) described the indignity suffered after his cousin's death. "Amongst all other things when he was being buried, he was buried by the police. I believe they just buried him like a dog or a puppy."
118. In other cases, uncertainty about the fact of death itself - as where victims simply disappeared - led to long-term psychological and practical problems. Ms Susan van der Merwe's husband disappeared on 1 November 1978. It was established much later that he had been murdered by a group of MK soldiers, to whom he had offered a lift.
The uncertainty and the utter feeling of helplessness that was caused by the disappearance of my husband was probably worse than receiving news of his death, one time. If I could put it this way, it would have been better for me just to hear that he had an accident with a gun or he had a car accident. It would have been better for me to digest the news. But the fact that there was no body even to bury led to the fact that there was no official evidence of his death.
This led to me not being able to conduct financial transactions such as buying a house. The Transvaal Education Department, which I was working for, and the financial institutions did not regard me as a breadwinner as such. My whole life was then an uncertainty ...
My story ... is but a story of a woman who could not bury her husband because there was no corpse.
119. Many who were able to bury their family members had the funeral terms dictated by those who had killed them. Ms Tony Lillian Mazwai's son died in 1988 while he was in exile. She described the atmosphere at his funeral.
I was informed that my son was a well-trained guerrilla and that the people who attend the funeral have to be limited to 200 in number ... They insisted there should be no speeches, no freedom songs, nothing. It was like a war. It seemed as if it was a battle. There's a big gate next to Josa. There was a convoy, police, soldiers, hippos, everybody.
120. The lack of respect for traditional rituals around death caused many people a great deal of pain. Not only were funerals disrupted, graves were also not respected. At the Nelspruit hearing, Mr Mtsorombane Carlson Ngwenyama described events that took place in 1964 when his community was being forcibly removed:
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