Robben Island

Nelson Mandela's cell

"The most inhospitable outpost of Apartheid."

-Oliver Tambo

Visiting Robben Island wrenched everything we had been reading about Nelson Mandela's life off the page, and made it real.  Here - in this corner of the prison yard - is the garden he started.  Here is the minute cell where he spent seventeen years of his life.

Limestone quarry

Here is the small cave at the limestone quarry where he and other political prisoners ate their lunch -- and planned a new government.   He and the other prisoners had to work nine hours a day in the lime quarry, crushing limestone.   Many ended up with permanent eye damage.  In Nelson Mandela’s case, his tear ducts no longer work.  He cannot produce tears.  (Surprisingly, he also didn't produce bitterness.)

Nelson Mandela is so esteemed and looked up to by people of this country - and around the world, it's easy to forget that many other anti-Apartheid leaders were held here as well.  Oliver Tambo, Robert Sobukwe ... several of the cells hold a short story inside of the men who were held, and the years of their life spent.

One very unexpected thing happened while our group were visiting.  Our Cape Town guide Michael had decided to treat Mama Noks and her boyfriend to the trip to Robben Island with us.  Each of the guides at Robben Island is a former political prisoner who shows you around, and shares what their life was like.  When we met our Robben Island guide for the first time, he looked at Mama Noks' boyfriend, grabbed his hand and greeted him warmly.  We found out at that moment that they had spent ten years there together.  This was his first trip back.

The mats they slept on every night

I asked Mama Noks' boyfriend a few questions, but his answers were short.  Then, at our last stop, as the group moved on, I realized that he had gone alone into another room.  I followed.  He was staring at a mat on the floor.  I asked him if they had had beds when he was held here.  He said, "No, this was my bed."  And, then almost in a faraway voice he said, "One hard mat, one soft mat.  You didn't know what kind of sickness was contained in these mats, but it was all we had.  If it was a warm night, you rolled up the soft mat and made it into a pillow - like this."  And, he got down on the floor and rolled up the top mat as you see it in this picture.  He didn't say much more after that, but I imagined that that mat held many more tales than he cared to tell, or I cared to hear.