(writing as ANC Kumalo)
(An Epitaph to Ahmed Timol and Others)

Their triumph when landing him
was like hooking a fish.
Four days later they told his father
go pray in the mosque
your son is dead
he has fallen from a window
we have lain him out on a slab.

Saloojee plunged from this spot
in 1964, they grinned at Timol
showing him the seven storey drop
like you he would not talk.

Smirking and winking

enjoying the sport
they led him three flights up;
do you like the view
are you ready to talk?
you’re a prize catch
do you prefer the honour
of a bigger splash?

Playing him out
at the end of a line
he refused to break
under the striking rod;
patience ran out
in a sjambok rage
they flung him to ground
with a head-wheeling crash
that covered the marks of the gaff.

They spoke of the leap
like an Olympic feat;
we never use force
it was a matter of course
some hang themselves
some slip on soap
this one chose to jump.

The police mouthpiece
addressed the press
the seventeenth account of sudden death:
‘We threaten no one
We assault no one
We assume that no one
would want to escape
no one
no one
no one.’

And flicking his tongue
he wrote an epitaph for all the dead:
‘We know Communists
when violence is planned
commit suicide
rather than mention
their comrades names.
They are taught to jump out
before interrogation.’