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highlyeccentricthis is a story which I've heard in more or less the same form many, many times over the years. One of those I heard in from was Bishop Purity Malinga, of the Methodist Church of South Africa, so I assume some degree of accuracy to it. It's also a favourite of Peter Hobson, who is uniformly awesome. (Bron, if you've internalised any more details by virtue of working with him, please do share)
In the period immediately following the end of Apartheid in South Africa, so many crimes against black South Africans came to light that the state had neither the legislation nor the infrastructure to process them.
Instead, special community courts were set up, designed so that those who had committed the offences would be brought face to face with the individuals, families and communities they had injured, and would have to face their judgement.
A certain white police officer was brought to this court by a black woman. He had murdered her husband and sons, in her sight, dishonoured their bodies, and taken them away, refusing to tell her where he had disposed of them. She had been left alone, with no way to give her family a funeral or proper burial.
She brought him to this court, where his crimes were detailed and he admitted that he had done so. Then she was given the opportunity to stand before him in the courtroom and decide what sort of recompense he would pay.
This woman stood up, and she looked across the courtroom at the man who had murdered her family.
And she said to him: I want three things from you. You have taken everything from me, and I want you to give me three things.
The first is that you tell me what you did with the bodies of my husband and sons, so that I can give them a proper burial and can grieve.
You have left me alone, to grow old without my husband or sons to take care of my house and to keep me company. I have no one of my own to take care of.
You cannot replace my husband and sons. But the second thing I ask is that you keep me company in my old age. Visit me. Mow my lawn and fix my roof. Eat Sunday lunch with me. Give an old lady someone to care for.
The third thing I ask of you is that you stand up, here in this courtroom, and let me give you a hug.
This lady began to cross the courtroom. And this man fainted dead away, before the whole court.
In the period immediately following the end of Apartheid in South Africa, so many crimes against black South Africans came to light that the state had neither the legislation nor the infrastructure to process them.
Instead, special community courts were set up, designed so that those who had committed the offences would be brought face to face with the individuals, families and communities they had injured, and would have to face their judgement.
A certain white police officer was brought to this court by a black woman. He had murdered her husband and sons, in her sight, dishonoured their bodies, and taken them away, refusing to tell her where he had disposed of them. She had been left alone, with no way to give her family a funeral or proper burial.
She brought him to this court, where his crimes were detailed and he admitted that he had done so. Then she was given the opportunity to stand before him in the courtroom and decide what sort of recompense he would pay.
This woman stood up, and she looked across the courtroom at the man who had murdered her family.
And she said to him: I want three things from you. You have taken everything from me, and I want you to give me three things.
The first is that you tell me what you did with the bodies of my husband and sons, so that I can give them a proper burial and can grieve.
You have left me alone, to grow old without my husband or sons to take care of my house and to keep me company. I have no one of my own to take care of.
You cannot replace my husband and sons. But the second thing I ask is that you keep me company in my old age. Visit me. Mow my lawn and fix my roof. Eat Sunday lunch with me. Give an old lady someone to care for.
The third thing I ask of you is that you stand up, here in this courtroom, and let me give you a hug.
This lady began to cross the courtroom. And this man fainted dead away, before the whole court.