CYNTHIA: Bra Zet! How did you find me? What are you doing here?

BRA ZET: Why did you leave without even telling me?

CYNTHIA: But what are you doing here? We could both get into trouble!

Look Bra Zet, I had to leave. The welfare society was getting to be too much for m e … And the police were harassing me every day.

BRA ZET: Ja. I hear you are a politician now. Read about you in the papers every day. That's how I found you. Been looking for you ever since. The welfare society refused to give me your address. But I kept on looking, man. Those newspaper blokes helped me too. Now I have found you. I found you Cynthia…

CYNTHIA: Bra Zet became my only visitor, every day.

A risk for both of us. We would sit together for hours.

He would tell me stories of his days as a hoodlum. The things he used to do.

He would also proudly tell me of his job. He was a supervisor at a factory that manufactured cots, cribs and prams. He loved his job and was proud of the progress he had made. I would tell him of my life as a banned person, a frequent guest of the state at John Vorster Square.

CYNTHIA: Bra Zet was often harassed by the police for visiting me. A number of times he was taken in for questioning. I pleaded with him to stop coming, but he would not hear of it. He loved me, he said, and visiting me was the least he could do for me. He hoped one day I would learn to love him too. [She laughs] Oh, well you know… It wouldn't have worked out, and you know why. He knew why too, and it made him look so pathetic.

Anyway he didn't bother about the police harassment. After all he had spent all his life in and out of the police station. In and out of jail. At least now he was being harassed for something legit, and that made him feel really proud. For once he was on the wrong side of the law for something which the people regarded as honourable.