But now, my Sister-Mother, do I help him hide? Deliver him to the police? Get him a lawyer? Will that mean I… — Sindiwe Magona
But now, my Sister-Mother, do I help him hide? Deliver him to the police? Get him a lawyer? Will that mean I do not feel your sorrow for your slain daughter? Am I your enemy? Are you mine? What wrong have I done you . . . or you me?
p. 138Source: Wikiquote · CC BY-SA 4.0
More from this book
The sun went and died in the west.
p. 125
Unganyebelezeli, kuza kudlalwa!’ piped Mxolisi’s little voice, calling for daring and defiance. To look at him do the war cry of the Comrades, poised in a defiant stance, his tiny fist up in the air, couldn’t but send all those who heard him into paroxysms of laughter.
p. 103
No,’ the girl’s mother said quietly. ‘There were many people there. Looking. Some were even laughing. None stopped the crime, none. Until your son arrived on the scene.
p. 114
