On Tuesday, the media reported an ostensibly routine yet profoundly significant development — the Pongola magistrate’s court issuing an indictment for the trial of four former apartheid security branch members accused of murdering an Umkhonto we Sizwe (MK) cadre.
Nearly four decades after the abduction and murder of Jameson Ngoloyi Mngomezulu, Douw Gerbrandt Willemse, 63, was indicted alongside Gerhardus Stephanus Schoon, 82, Paul Jacobus van Dyk, 76, and Frederick Johannes Pienaar, 77. All these years, they have been freely roaming the streets of democratic South Africa, having committed, presumably, many atrocious crimes such as this one.
This might appear like another story about the murder of an unknown man, like many nameless victims of apartheid police brutality. But Mngomezulu was anything but unremarkable. The fact that South Africa stands as a constitutional democracy today is a testament to his relentless endeavours, alongside many comrades who fervently fought for the liberation of the oppressed majority in this country.
But who was Mngomezulu and why is his story emerging only now?
The story of Ngoloyi, as he was affectionately known, is interwoven into the fabric of his hometown, the small but historically significant Ingwavuma, which played a pivotal role in the liberation struggle.
Nestled in the countryside of KwaZulu-Natal, Ingwavuma lies near the border between Swaziland and South Africa. The region encompasses a section of the expansive Lebombo mountain range. Stretching over 800km and reaching an average elevation of 600m, it serves as a natural boundary between South Africa, Swaziland and Mozambique.
After Ngoloyi’s assassination, his sister demonstrated remarkable courage by reviving the base and persisting in collaboration with MK cadres
Given its strategic location, it was logical for the ANC to establish a base in this area for its underground operations. In the 1980s, the Natal rural machinery used the region as a transit point for MK cadres infiltrating from Swaziland and Mozambique. Thanks to the assistance of Ngoloyi and his elderly sister Nokuhamba Nyawo, MK successfully established safe houses and set up a base in the area.
The success of the ANC in establishing a presence in Ingwavuma and cultivating networks is often attributed to the “exile community” of Ingwavuma. According to the narrative, Chief Ntunja Mngomezulu had been banished from his area, leading him and his followers to seek refuge in Swaziland, forming a community of exiles there.
There are multiple accounts of Mngomezulu infighting in Ingwavuma. Some assert that Mbalekelwa Mngomezulu, the induna (headman) of the Lindizwe area, was accused of involvement in the fraudulent appointment of Ntunja as the chief of the community.
Unrest ensued, leading to an inquiry that ruled against Ntunja. Upon fleeing to Swaziland, Ntunja continued to exert influence and was accused of terrorising the community from there. Despite this, he was popular, with many residents of Ingwavuma pledging allegiance to him.
Ngoloyi played a pivotal revolutionary role. His close ties with Ntunja, coupled with his status as a veteran of the Luthuli Detachment, elevated him to the position of a respected cadre who had undergone training in North Africa in the 1960s.
Ngoloyi worked with numerous dedicated and respected cadres like Johannes Phumani “Past Four” Phungula, the commander of the Natal machinery. Their efforts enabled MK to smuggle personnel and equipment into South Africa.
Reportedly, Ngoloyi was persuaded to resign from his job in Swaziland and return to Ingwavuma to establish underground MK units. Despite being at an advanced age, his primary responsibilities included the infiltration of cadres into South Africa.
He executed this task with aplomb. Ngoloyi would entrust the guerrillas to his sister for care, with the family remaining vigilant for police presence. Movement occurred only when deemed safe, and Nyawo played a crucial role in assisting the guerrillas in crossing into Swaziland.
The apartheid security branch was acutely aware of Ingwavuma as a frequent entry point for ANC cadres, and after the Soweto uprising, there was a noticeable surge in acts of sabotage in the area. Between October 1976 and May 1981, a staggering 112 attacks and explosions were reported in Ingwavuma.
Several shoot-outs occurred with the army. Some operatives moved further south to Nongoma and Vryheid, where arms caches were buried. Consequently, there was a noticeable surge in army patrols along the border, leading to the establishment of camps from the north to the south and along the Lebombo mountains.
The situation became complicated and precarious when Swaziland demanded the return of Ingwavuma and KaNgwane in what later turned out to be an unsuccessful land deal. The Swazi government contention was that the proposed land cession was an effort to reunite the Swazi people who had been separated for over a century by boundaries imposed by colonial powers.
Despite the ANC’s eagerness to establish a presence in Ingwavuma, it was not supportive of the takeover. This stance by the Swazi government, combined with the 1982 pact with South Africa aimed at countering the ANC’s endeavours to use the eastern Transvaal and northern Zululand as routes for infiltrating MK cadres into the country, rendered the ANC’s operations in the area unsustainable. The resilience of the ANC’s operations can be largely attributed to the support of the Mngomezulu community.
Ngoloyi’s heroic efforts met a tragic end on June 1 1985, when he, along with two members of his refugee community in southern Swaziland, David Mkethwa Mngomezulu and Leonard Loghudu Mngomezulu, was abducted and forcibly taken to South Africa by apartheid operatives. They were initially taken to Moolman, just outside Piet Retief (now eMkhondo), before being moved to Leeuwspoor, a farm near Jozini that served as the headquarters of the northern Natal security police.
The police sought information on the “terrorist threat”, including the names and the number of comrades infiltrated into the country. Despite the pressure, Ngoloyi refused to divulge any information.
He was severely tortured, ultimately leading to his death. When Ngoloyi slipped into a coma, the police had lost any chance of extracting information from him and opted to detonate his body at a missile range near Sodwana Bay. This underscores the gravity of the charges faced by these apartheid police officers.
After Ngoloyi’s assassination, his sister demonstrated remarkable courage by reviving the base and persisting in collaboration with MK cadres.
The true legacy of Jameson Ngoloyi Mngomezulu lies in the enduring impact he made, and this is how he should be remembered — not as a nameless victim of the cruel act of apartheid police officers. Despite the brutality he faced, these officers only succeeded in taking the life of a man, unable to erase the indomitable spirit and contributions that shaped the struggle for justice and freedom.
• Mandla J Radebe is an author, associate professor in the University of Johannesburg’s department of strategic communication and director of the Centre for Data and Digital Communications. He is the author of ‘The Lost Prince of the ANC: The Life and Times of Jabulani Nobleman ‘Mzala’ Nxumalo’ (Jacana Media)
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