His Body Abused But His Mind Is Still Free

The Long Walk to Freedom

The boat trip was pleasant and lasted about an hour.  Upon landing, we hopped on a small bus with a tour guide.  She was remarkable.  Black, she evidenced no anger or resentment at the past.  She obviously was critical, but dispassionate.

Our first stop was the prison “home” of Robert Sobukwe.  He was kept in solitary for many years before his health deteriorated, leading to his death.  It had to be hard – small yard to exercise in, not allowed visitors or to even talk to his guards (for the first years of his captivity), and views of the ocean and Cape Town suburbs off in the distance.

We then got back on the smallish tour bus, and drove past the lepers graveyard to the village, where the people who work on Robben Island live.  The small shop at the end of the island afforded great views of Cape Town and the lighthouse on the island.  

The next stop was at the limestone quarry, where Mandela and the others were forced to labor with few tools for years.  Our guide pointed out the Cave where they would teach the illiterate prisoners to read, and where the foundations of the nation’s new constitution were first outlined.

She also talked about the rock pile.  It was formed during a reunion of the political prisoners when Mandela walked over and grabbed a rock, put it down, and said a prayer of remembrance.  Unprompted, the others each went and got one, stacking them as a pile.  It is left there as an impromptu memorial.

The final stop was the prison.  Our guide was a former political prisoner who was imprisoned in 1981.  He spoke with no bitterness, only forgiveness.  He outlined life in the prison as we toured it – including getting to see Mandela’s cell.  We also went to a large cell that held a number of prisoners at once.

After he escorted us back outside, we took the short walk to freedom back to the docks and the boat.  A couple of women dawdled getting back to the boat, and we watched them as they watched us pull away.  Once they realized the boat was leaving, they ran, faces disbelieving that we would leave without them.  One of their boyfriends/husbands tried to get the boat to wait, but to no avail.  There was one other tour after ours (the 3pm), so I’m sure they hung around the docks until it was time to go.  The looks on their faces as the boat pulled away, however, were priceless.

On the way back, we were followed for a bit by some dolphins, and then we watched a seal cross behind our boat, leaping fully out of the water at times.  Alas, no great white shark leapt out of the water to try and catch the seal in mid air.

(The two Robben Island blog post titles were from the 1984 song by Special AKA, "Free Nelson Mandela."