‘Sontaha ya Mehlolo’ (Sunday of Surprises!). It all started on that Sunday of Surprises, as the day was dubbed in Bekkersdal. That is what it is still called to this day, all these many years later, for people remember how the whole small location was thrown into disarray that Sunday morning.

The usual Sunday morning business in Bekkersdal had few pressing matters besides attending services at one of the five local churches. Indeed, most residents were busy getting ready for just that that morning when all hell broke loose. All usual business was abruptly suspended, women hastily returned their costumes, high-heeled shoes and wide-brimmed hats to the wardrobes. Deacons, preachers and bishops threw their Sunday jackets and clerical robes back into the wardrobes from which they’d unearthed those only minutes before. The faithful, as well as everybody else in the location, waited for the unfamiliar dust to settle.

Word of mouth quickly spread the news from home to home and street to street. For hours, Bekkersdal watched the shiny cars – an unfamiliar sight – criss-cross the location, raising the red dust for which the township was notorious.

It was just after six in the morning.

My sister, Semakaleng, was already awake, ironing my stepmother's uniform, helping her get ready for church. Semakaleng or Smakkie, as everyone called her, recalls hearing car doors banging outside – another rarity. Who owned cars in our township? Curious, although she knew I was not in any trouble right then, she nevertheless thought to check. Even as she did that, she was quite sure whoever had stopped in front of our gate had made a mistake – they had stopped at the wrong gate. Well, she would just direct them to the right place then.

Smakkie peeked through the lace curtain that covered the long narrow kitchen window. And got the shock of her life.

White men.

Striding up the path of white bricks that led from the small low meshed steel gate – the pedestrian gate – they came.

One of four cars blocked the wider car gate.

Paralysed, my sister saw them stomp onto the highly polished black stoep that ran the length of the house. Then two went around to the back of the house.

The doors closed, they had to knock. And knock, they did. Knocked loudly, back and front doors.

And that is when I heard them.