This morning I received a ‘friend’ request on FaceBook: I don’t really “do” FaceBook although, yes, I know, this blog will be posted to my FaceBook page. But bear with me. The request was from someone I haven’t seen or heard from in, oh, I’d say more than thirty years. We were at varsity together, in the seventies; she went on to join the armed struggle, was detained and, if I am not mistaken, tortured and held in solitary confinement. I’ve followed her career, at a distance, over the twenty or so years since the end of apartheid and the beginning of democracy: she was, as I recall, at one point involved in monitoring conditions in the prisons service – poetic justice – and now has a very senior position in government, something important, to do with women. The issues that all of this raises are never far from my consciousness, quite honestly: the awareness of what others did, during

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