MATSHOBA, Deborah

The beating up lasted for a week. I was asthmatic and they refused to give me medication. I remember somewhere along the line I was very fortunate that this uniformed policeman came, an Afrikaner. I’ll never forget his name, Taljaard. He told me that he thought I was mad; I was just a mad person. ...

They made me stand the whole night, there was no chair, but I was given a pen to write a statement. I wrote a brief history of myself. It was Saturday. Sunday I continued the same thing. They kept on tearing the papers and telling me to write. The third night I started becoming delirious and my ...