<

Maria Fortuin

Maria Fortuin was 83 years old at the time of the interview. She tells of how she took care of the cows, pigs, geese and goats on her property, and how she is now taking care of her grandchildren.

Maria Fortuin has many stories to tell about the waterbaas and waternooientjie (water beings) and Voet Oog, (Eyes-On-Feet) and describes her experience of Jantjie’s ram in detail. She shares stories of hard labour and of taking care of her children and grandchildren.

Maria Fortuin was married for 64 years and had 10 children. She is one of 15 children herself and was given to white people to raise when she was seven years old. Her own parents did not have the money to raise her, so gave her to these people to raise. Maria was taken as a member of her adopted family and married from that family. She took care of the ounooi (older lady) and oubaas (older man) until they died, living with them and going to visit her husband. She inherited from them and after they died went to work at another family for 40 years. She took care of this ounooi and oubaas as well.

Maria’s children had to work so that everyone in the family could have food. They were religious people who attended the VG church, previously the NG Missionary church. Many of her family members have passed away. She cries as she speaks about her hard labour and of finding money to pay for her husband’s funeral. Her husband was a wonderful man – when she returned home at 10 or 11pm from working in the farmer’s kitchen, her husband had made food and taken care of the children and domestic duties. Maria is now 83 years old, her birthday being 28 October. She raises her grandchildren, too, as their parents have alcoholic dependencies. She speaks of one granddaughter who had a growth on her brain and had to undergo five surgeries – until she put a stop to it.

Maria speaks of the numerous duties she had on the farm – taking care of the pigs, cows, geese and goats, and asks who is still able to do such work at this age. She has experienced very difficult years and shares stories despite her tears.

Maria saw a waternooientjie (water maiden) with her own eyes. She lived at the big rock next to the dark bush. You might see the waterbaas or waternooi in the form of a beautiful flower on the river, but it would disappear as soon as it noticed a person nearby. You could also see these creatures sitting on rocks, but when seen they would disappear. Waternooientjies love people with moles on their skin and grab and pull them into the water. When you see a big light like that from a flashlight you must know it’s the waternooientjie coming out of the water. Maria’s father used to catch fish 20 at a time, and then suddenly no more. They used to say the waternooientjie was protecting the fish, taking care of them – being a woman. She lived in a specific part of the river near the dark bush. There are now no more fish in the river.

Maria laughs when asked of Jantjie’s Ram and tells Patrick not to joke about it. She says the ram walks around on her property, and she hears it making strange noises at times. People do not want to talk about the ram, she says. It can kill a dog in a fight. She says her father not was met die helm gebore (born with the helmet), but one of her daughters was. A person born with the helm has the gift of seeing things others cannot and predicting certain events. Her daughter is like that, too. Maria never goes to the doctor; instead she uses medicinal plants from the veld. Jantjie’s Ram protects you and is carried over from one person to another if the one he was with passes away. It is the weapon of the old people of previous generations.

Maria says that there is rock art up the kloof at Kliphuis, and the apostolic church from the Cape goes there to pray, including people from the area. Maria tells of Voet Oog, a creature with its eyes on its feet. Voet Oog can see everything, things you cannot see. Previous generations always spoke of him. It looks like a normal person, but its eyes are on its feet. She and her family lived in a one-bedroom house, and her father would tell them these stories. Maria’s grandfather made a cut on her and all her siblings’ foreheads – a ritual to protect them from paljas (magic) and creatures such as Voet Oog.  

 

My name is Maria Fortuin. And my surname, my birth surname is Sas. Sas. And then I was married Fortuin. My husband was, my husband was – we were married for 64 years, then my husband died.

And after that we tackled our life, and in the end we had ten children. But we suffered bringing up ten children. We didn’t have much; my ma and pa had to give me away to white people when I was four years old because they couldn’t provide for me. We were fifteen children altogether. And so I lived with the white people and the white people brought me up. In the end I was a member, they made me a member of the church, the white people. I was married out of their house, but then I had problems – my husband was very difficult because I now had to look after the old people, the two old people. And there I stayed, with the two old people, my husband alone in the house. I could go to him on weekends, but then he was alone again because I had to look after the ounooi* and the oubaas*. In those days we said Ounooi and Oubaas. There were no “Sirs” and things like that. It was out of… we didn’t speak like that. Then I left (inaudible 01:38; Bartoeg), then things changed, when the ounooi and oubaas died. Inherited something, from them.

Then I went, then I went to work for another, for a white woman. I’m, worked 40 years for that white woman. The children of the white woman, the two girls died and the two boys were police. Then I worked for them as well. And I looked after the ounooi and the oubaas as well, later on they also died. Also inherited – what is in my little house, is my inheritance from those people.

But I had it difficult, Sir, I had dark days. And later I had my ten children, and we had to work. At the time my husband worked for 15 cents, you know 15 cents’ worth of milk. Ten cents was a wonderful amount of money. They had to awol from school, you know where (inaudible 02:36; Noordhoek?) is, and I lived, ohhh, above Katloek. And then I still had to (inaudible 02:41), then my small children had to come and work. That night each one had a shilling. The shilling (inaudible 02:48 – 02:57) was terrible.

That time a tickey* was still – you don’t know a tickey. That time a tickey was a wonderful amount of money because you could buy a lot with a tickey. You know (inaudible 03:08 – 03:10).

That was my husband’s income. There were many days that we suffered. The farmer gave my husband a little. At some stage, at some stage the day work came in. My husband worked for 15 pounds per week, per month. Now, that was still in the time of the o-o-old days. With that 15 pounds we had to bring up ten children. We had to eat from it, with it we had to (inaudible 03:43). Eventually the farmer paid us more, then the farmer paid us now 15 cents, that was a lot of money, half a crown a day. That you also don’t know, but it was half a crown a day. And on that we managed. You know, we didn’t know the Lord as Apostolics like now. My husband served the Lord for 36 years. And I’ve been sitting in an Apostolic church for ten years now. It was the United Reformed Church, Dutch Reformed Church, that time it was the DRC, not the URC. DRC. And it was difficult, Sir.

Then later they, my children started growing up, started growing up. My eldest girl then had an accident. The man (inaudible 04:30; shocked, dead?). She and I were like two sisters. While I had to go through that, Sir, I had to work, but the child had to be buried, and there wasn’t any income. Work. Then I later had  a son, April. April also went to work and then April also died later. Their pa was still alive then, their pa had the, what, cancer illnesses, you know. Then I also had to go work for that. Just me on my own. The children also helped. But the day he died, I went to withdraw the last few cents I had to bury him. My husband was a wonderful man. He wasn’t one for problems, or suchlike. When I worked in the farmer’s kitchen in the evenings, I came home around 10, 11 o’clock, then he’d already prepared food and he’d been active and he’d done stuff. And today I want to thank him, every day I say thank you to the Lord for those days. On the 28th of October I will be 83. But this morning I got up closer, I got up closer to God this morning.

That child also has to go. I have two girls, three, three children I brought up for my sister, for my daughter. She doesn’t have (inaudible 06:07) of her children.

(inaudible 06:08 – 06:12)

She carries on horribly with me. She fights with me. And she only wants to drink. The liquor must just come here. So, this morning I want to, this afternoon…

Then we later came to, my husband later came to work at this farm. So we worked for a few years. The farmer gave us the house we lived in, gave it to me after his death because he’d worked here for many years. Without problems, without (inaudible 06:43). So the baas*, that is nothing to be ashamed of, we said the baas, and the ounooi and the oubaas.

But that is how it went with me, Sir. And today, as I’m sitting here, there is no food in my house. There’s nothing in there. But this Lord that I serve, He provides for me. He provides for me.

Later I had that child, Sir, I went through deep waters. Today things are tough because I can’t work any more. Then later the child at school got – he* studied well, at Noordhoek school, with Mister Karolus and them, as a matter of fact. He* got a pain on his head. He came home, Sir, and the child was from this side to that side. And then one evening I took the child to hospital. They said the child was malnourished. I said but how could the child be malnourished? (inaudible 07:44) above and below. One night, around three o’clock, I was in bed: “Come, the child is in a coma, to Tygerberg.” My husband was the one who looked after the children and supported me. He looked after the house, after the small children at home. Then I went to the Cape. (inaudible 08:00) a tumour in her brain as big as a chicken egg. But the doctor (inaudible 08:06 – 08:08).

I got there that night. I cannot read, you know, I cannot read. Got to the quarters at six o’clock in the morning, they must please help me.

Then he said to me, “Madam, once in your life you have to go alone.” (inaudible 08:27 – 08:30).

Then he made an operation. Her head had been opened five times already. And then I said this was where I would stop. She couldn’t walk, but this morning I can say to you, if one depends on the grace of God, then He helps you. He* walks, look how she (inaudible 08:49).

So things were difficult for me. But there isn’t one person here where I live that doesn’t give something to the others. We (inaudible 08:59), and I suffered, I suffered stress and everything, but the Lord helped my children so that I could let them be educated. I could just not let them be educated highly. They were only in the schools around here. But then came the three, the three foster children, then I could let them be educated to Standard 8, 9 at the Technical College. Then the bit of money was gone again. Do you understand, Sir?

So today I want to say, Sir, this thing you’re doing, is a good thing. Understand?

Later I moved around (? inaudible 09:41) between the farmers. Later I baked, for the farmers, for the home industry shop, baked pies, tarts, cakes. Friday mornings I had to go. And so I worked for another miesies*. I cooked, for the parliament, I cooked food here for the De Villierses, then they came and collected it. Cooked waterblomme [Cape pondweed]. Do you know waterblomme? Ohhh, it’s the nicest vegetable. With mutton. Cooked waterblomme. Sweet potatoes in the oven. Meat pies. Yellow rice. Pumpkin. Then it went to the Cape. I mean, that is also what I went through. Thus the Lord carried me so that I can now turn 73, 83. My husband died at 79.

And now I have my son here with me in the house. My son looks after me, but the wife that he has…. doesn’t care for the children. He* doesn’t care for the two small children. In the mornings I have to go sit with the one at the road, because he has to go to the crèche. This one I have to get ready for school, then the pa has to take … to the school because the mother is just sitting there…

I have finished with Sir. This, these farmers who today want to tell me what, who I am.

(inaudible 11:11 – 11:26).

He had cancer, had something. And in the evenings when I got home then the old man struggled so. I also have a foster son. He is now in Grade 7. Also at school. He was the one helping me in the evenings.

I dug with a spade. I had to look after the pigs. I had to look after the geese. Late afternoons I had to take the hoe, I had to go and hoe sacks full of grass, because the cattle had to eat. I milked, I milked cows. Who is around today that can still do that? Hhmm? Who is? Cows. Look, Grandma’s head is already grey. Thus I sat, like I was sitting with the cow, ointment, I had to pull the cow’s teats, I had to milk it. And looking after pigs is not nice. Late afternoon I still had to care for the goats, so that they got into the kraal. But who is here today? The Lord knows what I was worth and what I did. That is why He still keeps me in this place of his today, where I’m still standing.

We had different… we didn’t have cars, or this or that. The day I married, there wasn’t a bridal car like you have now. I went to get married on a lorry. Me and my husband. We had to go through that as well. But today – the bridal car must go with 15, 16. So, here where I’m now living, hmm, uhm, I haven’t, I haven’t had sunshine and roses every day. It’s difficult here. But here I will stay until the day that Jesus comes to get me. That is why this small child that I’m bringing up, he goes with me, and he will [tell] you about the Bible path, the Bible… In the late afternoon he has old tins. Sits there, playing Apostolic hymns. I asked his pa and ma the other evening, “Listen here, doesn’t this child steal your hearts?” “No, we know, we know the Bible, we know the Bible.” “But you only know wine. You can’t be bothered to look after your child,” I said, Sir. Then I said, “How long do I still have to endure?”

Look how my washing is hanging on the line. With this one leg. That is what I have to go through. So tell those that are there today, today, tonight still there, they must see, to reach this age, they who are behind this morning, they have to serve the Lord. God wil see them.

Thank you for this. Tell me, did you use to swim a lot?

Swim?

Yes.

Yes.

Did the old people maybe say what was in the river?

I swam in the river myself. There are fish. There are no crocodiles here. Just yesterday… This river of ours comes from the country around Ceres. Then it comes through up there, where the mountain makes an angle, it comes through there, and that is why they gave the river the name Olifants River. (inaudible15:18 -15:21).

Did the old people maybe speak of things that are in the water, that they warned the children about?

Yes, they spoke of the water maiden.

Can you tell us what he looked like?

The water maiden?

Yes.

I saw the water maiden myself. Far away, over there, ohhhh at… there’s this big rock, this big one, there’s this dark clump of bushes. Now, he lived there. It was a she, not a he. You saw this beautiful flower on the water and when the flower saw you, the flower was gone. Or she sat on that rock – on the rock in the (inaudible 15:59) of the afternoon. Then, when she saw you, she went down, she was gone. My pa told me, my pa and my ma said to me, it was not a he, it was a she. They believed that if you had many warts, like me now, I shouldn’t go there because they liked that very much. If she saw that you had warts, then he* pulled you, he pulled you with something. Without you realising it, he pulled you closer and then, oops, you were under the water.

Many evenings I stood here, then I said to the children, come stand here, but the children didn’t want to come and stand here, then a light like a torchlight, such a big light, came up on that water. And then the light was gone. Then this son of mine said one night, “Ma mustn’t watch the light like that, it’s a water maiden coming up there. He comes up all along the river.” And there was a time when, when the people here didn’t catch any fish. But in the afternoons, as the sun wanted to disappear, let’s say Sunday afternoon, then my pa and them went to the river, then my pa went to catch fish; they said they wanted to go get something for the children for the evening, some food. Then they went. Then my pa quickly caught a (inaudible 17:21) full of fish. But it was only for a while, in that bag were maybe ten or twenty fish, then they got nothing more. They got nothing more.

It was she who caused it, she was a woman, you know. It was like the water, that was what was in our river, but there wasn’t water, there weren’t crocodiles and those things in the river. There was only a water boss here. In this river. Because he lived at a (inaudible 17:51), all the way up the river. If you were on that farm there below, if you went around here to (inaudible 18:00: Platjieskloof??), then there wa such a b-i-i-g dark thicket, boom, in the water he sat, it was his place, there he went.

But this light. This oubaas* of mine (inaudible 18:10) often said that when he came in the evening, came late, then there was just such a light at his pump, a light just like a star, the morning star – do you know what a morning star is?

Yes.

Now, there was a light like that. That light appeared there (inaudble 18:24). Now, people no longer get any fish in the river, you know.

Why not?

Probably… nature is changing. That mountain is a nature, isn’t it? Nature.

Do you know Jantjie’s Ram? Heard of him?

Don’t go looking for trouble. That stupid thing keeps around here.

Tell us more.

It’s like a, how do they, the, a rap [??]. He’s around here. A while back there was one here on the roof. And those nights, the children were very scared. And a thing screamed here, very ugly. Now, then they said, “Mommy, the thing is here in the house.” The Lord knows, my husband (inaudible 19:22). But the other night (inaudible 19:24). He screams almost like this: wê – grê – ghrê. But other people said they had had him.

What do the people say when they had him?

No, no, they don’t want to say anything about him, they get angry.  But I know who had him. A few people had him, one after the other. The Rap. They call it a Rap. They say, my child, that thing fights, a dog does nothing to him. Fights a dog dead. Jantjie’s Rap. He has no (inaudible 19:57; hair ??). My pa and them, who saw in the (inaudible 19:59; dark ??), they said he was like a he-goat.

Was your father born with a caul?

My pa? He wasn’t born with a caul, that one over there was born with a caul. That child can tell you tomorrow this one is going to die, then he dies. It’s something that you have to bury well. If it isn’t buried well, then it can, you must know, tomorrow (inaudible 20:26). He was born with it. A caul. And when you’re born with a caul, you have this …, film over you. Now, if the film was turned backwards, backwards, forwards, then you see these things. But you have to pull the film backwards. That one was born with a caul. I had her so, I got a fright when the child, and when I thought, she always (inaudible 20:54), because she’s now already forty-five. That’s how it is. If you’re born with a caul…

The other day an old man came to me. Came to ask me to get plants, because the old man says it’s a doctor that does it. Find plants. Yes, that, my child, is what this grandma experienced. I never go to the doctor, neither my people nor myself. Doctor out of the bushes. But a Jantjie’s Rap, He’s rubbish. He plays with you. He quickly works on you and there are people here who had him. But the old people who had him are now dead.

When you had him, how did you… Where do you get him?

If you die – say I have him… You die, then he goes to one of my children, he knows which one. He knows who he should go to. If you’re my child, and I have him and you’re the one, let’s say, who was some secret of us, and I die, then he goes to you. And you two (inaudible 22:06), but nothing will happen to you. He protects you and your house. Nothing happens to you. And someone can also not… to you…

Can you send him to someone?

Yes. Yes. Let’s say I have words with you and you’re not happy, then you can send him and he must go there and he must do this and that. He knows what he must do. It was actually the weapon of the old people. It was the weapons of the first, the old generations. (inaudible 23:04).

Do you maybe know of places around here where there are Bushman paintings?

Yes. But that is, it’s on Noordhoek, you go up there into that kloof*. They call it the Kliphuis [Stone House]. Then you go along that Noordhoek River and then you come this way, it’s what I, we say… We Apostolics go to the Kliphuis a lot.

What do they do there?

You go there to pray. It’s a place of worship.

So it is close to the Bushman drawings.

Yes, it’s in the Bushman drawings. It’s this rock house, the drawings are inside. This woman knows where the Kliphuis is.

So the Apostolics go there to pray.

Yes, it’s a… The Apostolics who come from the Cape. And this… our people sometimes go and overnight there. They go there to communicate with the Lord, see. They go and speak to the Lord and the Lord says to them, as they say [mumbles 24:05].

Have you ever heard of a thing that they call Voetoog [Foot Eye]?

Yes, I’ve heard of him, but I’ve never seen him.

Can you tell us what you’ve heard of him?

The Voetoog?

Uhm.

My late pa and them always said about this Voetoog, that the foot, the eye sits here, on the foot. Then he now walks, and he can see everything. He’s like a, as the old people said, a carrier of magic. I don’t know what it is, he’s a, but he’s a Voetoog. He sees everything, and he can, he can tell you what, that it… It was the things that the old people used. That.

What did the Voetoog do?

The Voetoog could just, could see things that you couldn’t see. He could see that someone was going to send me dirt, Sir, send me dirt, or someone was going to do something to your house, or someone was going to do this to you, or someone was going to do that to you. It was the first old peoples’s ancestors that used those things. And we speak now (inaudible 25:12). When we were naughty, then Pa scared us, him and Ma, with the Voetoë [Foot Eyes], the Voetoog was looking for us.

What did he look like, this Voetoog?

They said he looked like a human, he was almost like a human, but his eyes were not where ours are, his eyes were on his feet. Called it the Voetoog.

Okay.

It was a, man… Today I’m actually sorry my pa is dead, because my pa is actually the person, because Pa told us a lot… We didn’t have rooms and stuff like today, you know. We had a ponhokkie [pondokkie/shack]. Do you know the ponhokkie? Now, we grew up in the ponhokkies, here we prepared food, here lay Ma and Pa, and there us children lay. And here was the hearth. Then Pa lay and told us about these things that I’m talking about.

Yes.

Now, Pa told us my late grandpa also had a Jantjie’s Ram, but my late grandpa was a Musutho Kaffir*.

What?

Musutho Kaffir. Yes, my pa and my ma are desecended from the Musuthos. But they’re both dead, my mother was very white.

Okay.

Very white. But they’re both dead today, Ma dead, Pa dead. They’re all dead today. My husband’s pa was also a, my husband’s pa also wore a lappie [small cloth]. Do you know about the lappie, Sir?

Tell us about the lappie.

Now the lappie is the, is the, is the carrier of magic. My late pa would tell you everything. My late grandpa, my ma’s pa, would tell you, when someone wanted to do something to you, he will… I was cut.

Can you show where you..?

My pa, my grandpa, did us here, here in my hair, but it’s very faint, you can probably not see it any more.

Can I quickly take a photo?

I was cut, my grandfather cut me, you have to look here, so. So if you have a mark…

Yes, there.

It is, it is…

[interviewer takes photo]

And then they take this stuff, the bloody stuff… What if people see what my head looks like…

No, it’s fine.

Now they take it, and they go throw it, as they said, they throw it into the sea.

The sea. Where is this sea?

Then it goes away. My pa, my grandpa lived in southern Paarl, you know.

So they take the blood that…

That’s it.

What do they put in?

And then no one… no, he is just… they had stuff in these little tins.

Uhm.

Is just smeared on and tomorrow you know nothing.

What are in the tins?

It looks like devil’s dirt [asafoetida/devil’s dung]. How do they say, do you know that, devil’s dirt?

Yes.

A powder.

And then the Voetoog stuff cannot get to you?

No, no one. No one can, you can’t now come give me dirt. You can do nothing, do nothing to me. Grandpa cut all of us and as we… Grandpa also cut my one son, Thomas. Thomas. My grandpa was a Weilbach (?? 28:22), that was his surname. Was Weilbach. Now, this is where you… It prevents everything. You’re not scared that someone can [do something to] your house… You don’t have to be scared of anything. But they call it the “bejas” [ensorcelled]. “Bejas”, yes.

The cutting.

When you’ve been cut, no one can “bejas” you. No one can do anything to you. No one can do anything to your house. No one can do anything to your wife. No one can do anything to your children. That thing has been washed away. That is how…

Maria Fortuin was 83 jaar oud ten tyde van die onderhoud. Sy vertel hoe sy die koeie, varke, ganse en bokke op die plaas versorg het. Ten spyte van haar hoë ouderdom maak sy vandag ook haar kleinkinders groot.

Maria vertel talle stories oor die waterbaas en waternooientjie. Sy vertel ook van Voetoog en beskryf haar ondervinding van Jantjie se ram in detail. Sy vertel hoe hard hulle gewerk het en van haar kinders en kleinkinders se versorging.

Maria Fortuin was vir 64 jaar lank getroud en het 10 kinders gehad. Sy self is een van 15 kinders en haar ouers het haar vir blankes gegee om groot te maak toe sy sewe jaar oud was, want hulle het nie geld gehad om haar groot te maak nie. Maria is beskou as ’n lid van haar aangenome gesin en is uit hulle huis uit getroud. Sy het tot hulle dood na die Ounooi en Oubaas omgesien. Sy moes by hulle inwoon en kon net vir haar man gaan kuier. Sy het iets van hulle geërf. Daarna het sy vir 40 jaar lank by ’n ander familie gewerk. Daar het sy ook na die Ounooi en Oubaas omgesien.

Maria se kinders moes baie hard werk sodat almal in die familie kos kon hê om te eet. Hulle was gelowige mense en lidmate van die VG Kerk, voorheen die NG Sendingkerk. Baie van die gesinslede is reeds dood. Sy huil wanneer sy vertel hoe hard sy gewerk het en hoe sy geld moes soek om haar man te kon begrawe. Hy was ’n wonderlike man – as sy saans om 10 of 11 uur by die huis kom na ’n dag se werk by die blanke mense, het haar man reeds kos gemaak, die kinders versorg en die huiswerk gedoen. Maria is nou 83 jaar oud. Haar verjaarsdag is op 28 Oktober. Sy maak ook haar kleinkinders groot, want hulle ouers het ’n drankprobleem. Sy vertel dat haar een kleindogter ’n gewas op haar brein gehad het waarvoor sy vyf keer geopereer is, totdat sy, Maria, besluit het tot hiertoe en nie verder nie.

Maria vertel van al die verskillende take wat sy op die plaas gehad het – koeie melk en varke, ganse en bokke oppas, en vra wie kan nog deesdae hierdie werk doen. Sy het moeilike jare agter die rug en vertel die stories ten spyte van haar trane.

Maria het ’n waternooientjie met haar eie oë gesien. Sy het op die groot klip langs die donker bos gebly. Jy kan die waternooientjie in die vorm van ’n pragtige blom op die rivier sien dryf, maar as die blom jou gewaar, raak hy weg. Jy kan hierdie wesens ook op die klippe sien sit, maar sodra hulle jou opmerk, verdwyn hulle. Waternooientjies is baie lief vir mense met moesies en sal sulke mense gryp en onder die water intrek. Wanneer jy ’n helder lig soos ’n flitslig sien, moet jy weet dis die waternooientjie wat uit die water uit kom. Maria se pa het soms 20 visse op ’n slag gevang, en dan skielik weer niks. Hulle het gesê die waternooientjie beskerm die visse en versorg hulle, omdat sy ’n vrou is. Sy het in ’n spesifieke deel van die rivier langs die donker bos gebly. Nou is daar niks meer vis in die rivier nie.

Maria lag wanneer sy uitgevra word oor Jantjie se ram en sê vir Patrick om nie grappies te maak oor hom nie. Sy sê die ram loop daar by haar rond en sy hoor hom soms snaakse geluide maak. Mense praat nie graag oor die ram nie, sê sy. Hy kan ’n hond dood baklei. Sy sê haar pa is nie met die helm gebore nie, maar een van haar dogters wel. Dit beteken die persoon het die gawe om dinge te sien wat ander nie kan sien nie en kan sekere dinge voorspel. Maria gaan nooit dokter toe nie. Sy dokter haarself met bossies uit die veld. Jantjie se ram beskerm jou en word oorgedra van een persoon na die ander wanneer die een wat hom gehad het, doodgaan. Hy was die oumense van die voorgeslagte se wapen.

Maria sê daar is rotskuns bo in die kloof by Kliphuis. Die Apostoliese kerk uit die Kaap sowel as mense uit die kontrei gaan daarheen om te bid. Maria vertel van Voetoog, ’n wese wie se oë op sy voete sit. Voetoog kan alles sien; dinge wat jy nie kan sien nie. Die oumense het altyd van hom gepraat. Hy lyk soos ’n normale mens, maar sy oë sit op sy voete. Sy en haar gesin het in ’n pondokkie van net een vertrek gewoon, en haar pa het hulle hierdie stories vertel. Maria se oupa het ’n snytjie op haar en die ander kinders se voorkoppe gemaak – ’n ritueel om hulle teen paljas en wesens soos Voetoog te beskerm.

 

My naam is Maria Fortuin. En my van, my gebore van is Sas. Sas. En toe is ek getroud Fortuin. My man was, my man was, vier-en-sestig jaar was ons getroud toe’s my man dood. En daarna het onse lewe aangepak, en op die ou end het ons tien kinders. Maar swaar gekry met tien kinders grootgemaak. Ons het nie volop gehad nie, want my ma en pa het my moet weggee toe ek vier jaar oud was vir blanke mense omdat hulle nie vir my kan sôre nie – ons was vyftien kinders bymekaar. En so het ek by die blanke mense gebly en die blanke mense het my grootgemaak. En op die ou end is ek ’n lid, het hulle vir my lidmaat gemaak, die blanke mense. Ek is getroud uit hulle huis uit, maar toe’t ek ’n probleme gehad – my man was baie moeilik gewees want ek moet nou kyk na die oumense, die twee oumense. En daar het ek maar gebly, die twee oumense, my man allenig in die huis. Naweke kon ek gaan na hom toe, maar volgende keer dan’s dit maar weer alleen, want ek moet die ounooi en oubaas oppas. Ons het daai tyd gesê die ounooi en die oubaas. Daar was nie “menere” en daai goeters nie. Dit was uit die, dit was nog nooit so vasgestel nie. Toe’s ek daar by (onhoorbaar 01:38; Bartoeg) uit, eers toe anders, toe die ounooi en oubaas dood is. Ietsie geërwe, van hulle.

Toe gaan ek weer, toe gaan werk ek by ’n ander, by ’n blanke vrou. Ek het, is veertig jaar gewerk by daai blanke vrou. Die blanke vrou se kinders, die twee dogtertjies is dood en die twee seuntjies polisie, die burgers. Toe’t ek weer by hulle gewerk. En ek het die ounooi en oubaas ook opgepas, hulle is toe ook dood op die ou end. Ook geërwe – wat in my huisie is, is erfporsies van daai mense.

Maar met my het dit swaar gegaan, Meneer, ek het donker dae gegaan en ek het later my tien kinders, en ons moet werk. My man werk daai tyd vyftien sent, julle ken vyftien sent se melk. Tien sent was ’n wonderlike klomp geld. Hulle moet awol van die skool af, Meneer weet waar (onhoorbaar 02:36 Noordhoek) is, en ek bly o-e-e-e bo Katloek. En dan moet ek nog (onhoorbaar 02:41), dan moet my kindertjies kom werk. Vanaand het elkeen ’n sjieling. Die sjieling (onhoorbaar 02:48 – 02:57).

Daai tyd was ’n trippens nog … Meneer ken nie van ’n trippens nie. Daai tyd was ’n trippens ’n wonderlike klomp geld want jy kon baie met ’n trippens gekoop het. Meneer ken (onhoorbaar 03:08 – 03:10) iets vreesliks gewees. Dit was my man se verdienste gewees. Daar was baie dae gewees, Meneer, wat ons maar gesuffer het. Die boer gee vir my man min. Op die dag, op ’n tyd kom die dagwerk nou in. My man het vir vyftien pond in die week gewerk – in die maand. Nou, dit is nog in die ou-u-u jare se tye. Met daai vyftien pond moet ons die tien kinders grootmaak. Ons moet eet daaruit, ons moet (onhoorbaar 03:43). Op die ou end het die boer dan vir ons meer betaal, toe betaal die boer nou vir ons vyftien sent, dit was mos nou ook ’n klomp geld – halfkroon op ’n dag. Dit ken Meneer nou ook nie, maar dit was ’n halfkroon op ’n dag. En daarby het ons deurgegaan. Weet Meneer, die Here het ons daai tyd nog nie geken van ’n Apostoliese nie soos vandag nie. My man het die Here ses-en-dertig jaar gedien. Ek sit nou al tien jaar ook weer in ’n Apostoliese kerk, dit was die VGK kerk gewees, NG Kerk, daai tyd was dit NG Kerk, nie VGK nie. NG. En dit het moeilik gegaan, Meneer.

Toe’t hulle later my kinders beginne grootraak, beginne grootraak, my oudste meisiekind is toe verongeluk. Die man (onhoorbaar 04:30; geskok hier, dood??). Ek en sy was soos twee susters. Toe ek daardeur moes gaan, Meneer, ek moet werk, maar die kind moet begrawe raak, en daar is nie inkomste nie. Werk. Toe’t ek later ’n seun, April. April is toe ook ’n werk en toe is April ook maar dood later. Toe’t hulle pa nog gelewe, hulle pa het die, watse, kankersiektes gehad, man. Toe moet ek daarvoor ook werk. Net ek een alleen. Die kinders het ook maar gehelp. Maar die dag toe hy dood is, het ek my laaste paar sentjies gaan trek wat ek gehad het om vir hom te begrawe. My man was ’n wonderlike man gewees. Hy was nie een vir probleme nie, of so nie. Maar as ek saans as ek gewerk het by die boer in die kombuis, teen tien-, elfuur kom ek huis toe, dan het hy al kossies gemaak, en hy het gewoel en hy het gedoen. En ek wil vandag vir hom, ek sê elke dag vir die Here dankie vir daai dae, ek word nou die agt-en-twintig Oktober dan raak ek nou drie-en-tagtig. Maar ek staan vanmôre nog nader by, nader aan God staan ek vanoggend op.

Daai kind moet ook gaan. Ek het twee meisiekinders, drie, drie grootmaakkinders van my suster, van my dogter grootgemaak. Sy het ook nie (onhoorbaar 06:07) van haar kinders nie.

(onhoorbaar 06:08 – 06:12)

Sy gaan vreeslik met my aan. Sy baklei met my. En sy wil net drink. Die drink moet net hiernatoe. So, Meneer, ek wil vanmôre, vanmiddag … Toe’t ons nou later, my man toe later by dié boerdery kom werk. So werk ons ’n klompie jare. In die huis wat ons in bly het die boer vir ons, my gegee ná sy dood, want hy het baie jare hier gewerk. Sonder probleme, sonder (onhoorbaar 06:43). So het die baas, dis nou nie ’n skande nie, ons het gesê die baas, en die ounooi en die oubaas.

Maar dit het met my gegaan so, Meneer. En vandag, soos ek nou sit, my huis het niks kos in nie. Daar’s niks in nie. Maar hierdie Here wat ek dien, Hy sôre vir my. Hy sôre vir my. Ek het toe later daai kind, Meneer, het ek baie diep water deurgegaan. Dit gaan swaar vandag, want ek kan nie meer werk nie. Toe kry die kind later by die skool, hy het baie goed geleer, hoeka by Noordhoek-skool, by Meneer Karolus-hulle. Hy kry ’n pyn op sy kop. Hy kom huis toe, Meneer, en die kind is ge-diékant toe en soontoe. En toe gaat ek die kind op ’n aand hospitaal toe vat. Toe sê hulle die kind is ge-ondervoed. Ek sê, maar hoe kan die kind ondervoed wees. (onhoorbaar 07:44) bo en ondertoe. Op ’n nag drie-uur toe lê ek, kom die kind is in ’n koma, Tygerberg toe. My man was die een met kinders wat my bygestaan het. Hy’t gesôre vir die huis, vir die kindertjies by die huis. Toe’s ek Kaap toe. (onhoorbaar 08:00) ’n gewas op haar brein so groot soos ’n hoendereier. Maar die dokter het (onhoorbaar 08:06 – 08:08).

Ek kom die nag daar. Ek kan mos nie lees nie, Meneer. Ek kan nie lees nie. Kom daar die oggend sesuur by die kwartiere, hy moet my asseblief help.

Toe sê hy vir my: “Mevrou, een maal deur die lewe moet jy allenig deurgaan.” (onhoorbaar 08:27 – 08:30).

Toe maak hy ’n operasie. Haar kop is al vyf keer oopgemaak. En toe’t ek gesê hier stop ek. Sy kan nie loop nie, Meneer, maar ek kan vanmôre vir jou sê as mens aan die genade van God hang, dan help Hy vir jou. Hy loop, kyk hoe sy (onhoorbaar 08:49).

So met my het dit swaar gegaan. Maar hierso is nie een hier wat ek bly gee ons nie vir mekaar iets nie. Ons (onhoorbaar 08:59), en ek kry swaar, ek kry strewes en alles, maar die Here het my kinders deurgedra dat ek vir hulle kon laat leer. Ek kon hulle net nie hoog laat leer het nie. Hulle het maar hier in die skole gewees. Maar toe kom die drie, die drie grootmaakkinders, toe kan ek hulle laat leer tot standerd agt, nege by die Tegniese Kollege. Toe raak die geldjie ook al weer daar. Verstaan Meneer?

So ek wil vandag sê, Meneer, hierdie ding wat jy nou doen, is ’n goeie ding. Verstaan?

Toe’t ek nou later so tussen die boere rond (onhoorbaar 09:41; geval, tussen die boere rondgeval??). Ek het toe later gebak, vir die boere, vir die tuisnywerheid, bak pasteie, terte, koeke. Vrydagoggende moet ek gaan. En so het ek by ’n ander miesies gewerk. Ek het kos gemaak, vir die parlement, vir die De Villierse het ek hier kos gemaak, dan kom haal hulle. Waterblomme gekook. Ken julle waterblomme? O-e-e, dis die lekkerste groente. Met skaapvleis. Waterblomme gekook. Stowepatats. Vleispasteie. Geelrys. Pampoen. Dan gaan dit Kaap toe. Ek meen, daardeur het ek al gegaan. So het die Here my deurgedra dat ek nou kan drie-en-sewentig, drie-en-tagtig raak. My man is op nege-en-sewentig dood.

En nou het ek my seun hier by my in die huis. My seun kyk na my, maar die vrou wat hy het …. gee nie om vir die kinders nie. Hy gee nie om vir die twee kindertjies nie. Ek moet soggens met die ander enetjie by die pad gaan sit, want hy moet crèche toe gaan. Dié enetjie moet ek soggens skool toe, dan moet die pa maar vat tot by die skool want die ma sit daar…

Ek is al klaar by Meneer. Hierdie, dié boere wat vandag vir my sal sê wat, wie is ekke.

(onhoorbaar 11:11 –11:26).

Hy het kanker, iets gehad. En saans as ek hier kom, dan het die ou man al so gesukkel. Ek het ’n grootmaakseun ook. Hy’s nou graad sewe. Ook by die skool. Hy was die enetjie wat vir my saans gehelp het.

Ek het gespit met die graaf. Ek het moet varke oppas. Ek moet ganse oppas. Ek moet agtermiddag die skoffel vat, ek moet nog sakke gras gaan skoffel, want die beeste moet eet. Ek het gemelk, koeie gemelk. Wie’s vandag hier wat dit nog kan doen? Hhmm? Wie’s hieso? Koeie. Kyk, Ouma se kop is al grys. So sit ek, soos ek nou sit met die koei, salf, ek moet die koei se spene trek, ek moet hom melk. En om varke op te pas, is nie lekker nie. Ek moet agtermiddag nog kyk na die bokke, dat hulle in die kraal kom. Maar wie’s vandag hier? Die Here weet wat het ek gebeteken en wat het ek gedoen. Daarom dat Hy my vandag nog op hierdie plek van Hom hou, waar ek vandag nog op staan.

Ons het anderste, ons het nie karre gehad, of dié of daai. Toe ek die dag trou, was daar nie ’n bruidskar soos nou nie. Ek het met ’n lorrie gaan trou. Ek en my man. Maar ons moes ook deur dit gaan. Maar kyk vandag – die bruidskar met vyftien, sestien moet loop. So, hier waar ek nou bly, hmm, ek het nie, ek het nie elke dag sonskyn en rose nie. Dis swaar hierso. Maar hier sal ek bly tot die dag kom dat Jesus my kom haal. Daarom dié kleintjie wat ek grootmaak, hy loop saam met my self, en hy sal Meneer van die Bybelpad, die Bybel …. agtermiddag het hy ou blikkietjies. Sit hy daar, speel hy so. Apostolie-gesange. Ek het nou die aand vir sy ma en pa gevra, luister hierso, steel dié kind nie julle twee se harte nie? Nee wat, ons ken, ons ken die Bybel, maar ons ken die Bybel, maar julle ken net die wynkanne. Julle is nie die moeite werd om te kyk na julle kind nie. Ek het nou hier gepraat, Meneer, toe sê ek, hoe lank nou nog moet ek uithou?

Kyk hoe hang my wasgoed op die draad. Met dié een been. Dis waardeur ek gaan. So sê maar vir hulle vandag wat vandag, vannag nog daar staan, hulle moet kyk, om hierdie ouderdom te behaal, vandag nog dié dinges hulle wat van môre nog agterstaan, hulle moet die Here dien. God sal vir hulle sien.

Baie dankie, Antie, vir dit. Sê my, het Antie altyd baie gaan swem?

Swem?

Ja.

Ja.

Het die oumense miskien vertel wat is daar in die rivier?

Ek self het daar in die rivier geswem. Daar’s visse. Maar hier by ons is nie krokodille nie. Net gister, dié rivier van ons kom uit Ceres se wêreld uit. Dan kom hy daar bo, waar die berg die hoek gee, daar kom hy deur, en dit is waarom hulle dié rivier die naam gegee het, die Olifantsrivier. (inaudible15:18 -15:21).

Het die oumense miskien vertel van goeters wat daar in die waters is wat hulle die kinders van gewaarsku het?

Ja, hulle het gesê van die waternooi.

Kan Antie vir ons vertel hoe lyk hy?

Die waternôientjie?

Ja.

Die waternôientjie het ek self gesien. Daar doer, o-o-e-e-e by … daar’s so ’n klip, so ’n grote, daar’s so ’n donker bos. Nou, daar het hy gebly. Dit was ’n sy, nie ’n hy nie. Jy sien ’n mooi pragtige blom op die water en as die blom vir jou gewaar, is die blom weg. Of sy sit op daai klip – op die klip in die (onhoorbaar 15:59) van die middag. Dan, as sy vir jou gewaar, dan gaat sy net af, dan is sy weg. Toe’t my pa vir my gesê, my pa en my ma vir my gesê, dit is nie ’n hy daai nie, dis ’n sy. Want hulle geloof was as jy baie moesies het, soos ek nou, ek mag nou nie by daar gekom het nie, want hulle is baie lief daarvoor. As sy vir jou sien jy het moesies, dan trek hy jou, hy trek jou met iets. Sonder dat jy weet, hy trek jou nader en dan, oeps, is jy onder die water. Ek staan nou baie aande hier, dan sê ek vir die kinders kom staan hier, maar die kinders wil nie kom staan nie, dan kom daar nou ’n lig soos ’n flitslig, so ’n groot lig, kom al op daai water op. En dan is die lig weg. Toe sê dié seun van my een aand: “Ma moet nie die lig so dophou nie, dis ’n waternooi wat daar opkom. Hy kom daar al teen die rivier op.” En daar is nou ’n sekere tyd, dan, dan kry die mense nou nie vis hier te vange nie. Maar nou agtermiddae, soos die son nou wil weggaan, sê maar Sondag-agtermiddag, dan gaan my pa-hulle nou rivier toe, dan gaan vang my pa, dan sê hulle hulle wil iets gaan kyk vir die kinders vir vanaand, ’n kossies. Dan gaan hulle nou. Dan vang my pa sommer vinnig ’n (onhoorbaar 17:21) vol vis. Maar dis net ’n tydjie, daai pak vol vis is miskien tien of twintig visse, dan kry hulle niks meer nie. Niks kry hulle meer nie. Dis dan sy wat sôre, sy’s mos ’n vrou. Dit is soos die water, dit is wat in die rivier van ons is, maar hier was nie water, hier was nie krokodille en daai goeters in die rivier nie. Hier was net ’n waterbaas hier gewees. In dié rivier. Want hy het by ’n (onhoorbaar 17:51) gebly, al in die rivier op. As daar nou so ’n plaas is daar onder, soos jy nou hier omgaan (onhoorbaar 18:00: Platjieskloof??) toe, dan is daar so ’n gr-o-o-o-t donker bos, boem, in die water sit ta, dis sy plek, daar gaat hy.

Maar dié lig. Dié oubaas van my (onhoorbaar 18:10) het baie kere gesê, maar as hy saans nou kom, laat kom, dan is daar by sy pomp ’n lig, net so ’n lig soos ’n ster, die dagster – weet Meneer wat ’n dagster is?

Ja.

Nou ja, daar is so ’n lig. Daai lig kom daar (onhoorbaar 18:24). Meneer sien, nou kry die mense glad nie meer vis in die rivier nie.

Hoekom nie?

Seker maar … die natuur is aan die verander. Daai berg is mos ’n natuur. Die natuur.

Ken Antie Jantjie se ram? Gehoor van hom?

Jong, jy sal nie mors nie. Daai dooi ding loop hoeka hier rond.

Vertel vir ons bietjie van hom.

Hy’s nou soos ’n, hoe hulle, die, ’n rap [??]. Hy loop hier. So ’n tyd terug was hy hier op die dak. En nou die paar nagte, die kinders is al banghare. En dan skree hier nou ’n ding, verskriklik naar. Nou, toe sê hulle, Mamma, die ding is hier in die huis. Jissou, my man (onhoorbaar 19:22) my. Maar nou die nag, (onhoorbaar 19:24). Hy skree amper so, wê – grê – ghrê. Maar hier het ook mense gepraat wie dit gehad het.

Hoe sê die mense as hulle dit gehad het.

Nee, nee, hulle wil niks daarvan praat nie, want hulle is sommer kwaad dan. Maar ek weet wie dit gehad het. Dis ’n paar mense wat dit gehad het, agter mekaar. Die Rap. Hulle noem dit ’n Rap. Hulle sê, daai ding, my kind, hy baklei, ’n hond maak niks aan hom nie. Baklei ’n hond dood. Jantjie se Rap. Hy’t niks (onhoorbaar 19:57; hare ??) nie. My pa-hulle, hulle wat in die (onhoorbaar 19:59; duister ??) gesien het, hulle het gesê, hy is soos ’n bokram.

Is Antie se pa met die helm gebore, of?

My pa? Hy’s nie met die helm gebore, daai een is dan met die helm gebore, daarso. Daai kind kan vir jou sê môre gaan dié een dood, dan dood hy. Dis iets wat jy goed moet begrawe. As hy nie so goed is begrawe nie, dan kan hy, jy moet weet, môre (onhoorbaar 20:26). Hy’s daarmee gebore. Die helm. En as jy met die helm gebore is, dan het jy mos so, vlies oor jou. Nou wanneer die vlies nou agtertoe, agtertoe, vorentoe gedraai was, dan sien jy nou dié goeters. Maar jy moet die vlies agtertoe trek. Daai een is met die helm gebore. Ek het haar so, ek het geskrik toe die kind, en toe ek nou dink, altyd het sy (onhoorbaar 20:54), want sy is ook al vyf-en-veertig.

Dit is hoe die saak staan. As jy met die helm gebore is … Hier was nou die dag ’n oubaas by my gewees. Kom vra vir my, ek sal bossies kry, want die oubaas sê dis blykbaar Dokter wat dit doen. Bossies kry. Ja, dit is alles, my kind, wat dié ouma deurgegaan het. Ek gaan mos nooit dokter toe nie, my mense en ek self ook. Dokter uit die bosse uit. Maar ’n Jantjie se Rap, hy’s ’n vullis. Hy speel gou met jou. Hy speel gou met jou en hier is mense wat hom gehad het. Maar die voorgeslag is nou dood wat hom gehad het.

Nou hoe, as jy hom gehad het, hoe het jy dan … Waar kry jy hom?

As jy nou doodgaan, sê maar ek het hom, jy gaan dood, dan gaan hy na een van my kinders toe, wie weet hy. Hy weet na wie toe hy moet gaan. As Meneer my kind is, en ek het hom en Meneer was die een, sê nou maar, wie die geheimsinnige saak van ons, en ek sterf, dan gaan hy na Meneer toe. En julle twee, (onhoorbaar 22:06), maar jy sal niks oorkom nie. Hy keer vir jou en jou huis. Julle kom niks oor nie. En iemand kan ook nie met julle …

Kan jy hom stuur na iemand toe?

Ja. Ja. Sê nou maar ek het nou, sê nou maar sy het met Meneer woorde en Meneer het weer anders, Meneer is nie daarmee tevrede nie, kan Meneer hom stuur en hy moet gaan daar en hy moet daar so en so werk. Hy weet wat hy moet doen. Dit was eintlik die oumense se wapen. Die voorste, ou geslagte se wapens gewees daai. (onhoorbaar 23:04).

Ken Antie miskien plekke waar daar Boesman-tekeninge is hier rond?

Ja. Maar dit is nou, dit is nou op Noordhoek. Iemand, jy gaan daar in daai kloof op. Hulle noem dit die Kliphuis. Dan gaan jy daar al teen daai Noordhoek-rivier op en dan kom jy diékant toe, dis wat ek, ons sê, ons Apostolies gaan baie daar na die Kliphuis toe.

Wat gaan maak hulle daar?

Daar gaan bid jy.

O, oukei.

Dis ’n aanbiddingsplek daai.

So, dis naby die Boesmantekeninge.

Ja, dis in die Boesmantekeninge. Dis so ’n kliphuis, die tekeninge is binne-in. Dié vrou weet waar die Kliphuis is.

So die Apostolies gaan bid daar.

Ja, dis ’n, die Apostolies wat so uit die Kaap uit kom. En dié, ons mense, hulle gaan oornag partykeer daar. En daar gaan hulle met die Here gaan kommunikeer, sien. Hulle gaan praat daar met die Here en die Here sê vir hulle, soos hulle nou sê [mompel 24:05].

Het Antie al gehoor van ’n ding wat hulle sê Voetoog?

Ja, ek het al gehoor, maar ek het hom nog nooit gesien nie.

Kan Antie vir ons vertel wat Antie gehoor het van hom?

Die Voetoog?

Uhm.

My oorlê Pa-hulle het altyd gesê van dié Voetoog, wat die voet, die oog sit hier, op die voet. Dan loop hy nou, en hy kan alles sien. Hy’s soos ’n, soos die oumense gesê het, ’n bejasdraer gewees, ek weet nou nie wat dit is nie. Hy’s ’n, maar is ’n Voetoog. Hy sien alles, en hy kan, dan kan hy vir jou sê wat daar, dat dit … Dit was die voortyd se oumense se goeters wat hulle gebruik het. Daai.

Nou wat het die Voetoog gemaak?

Die Voetoog het nou maar net, kan dinge sien wat jy nie kan sien nie. Hy kan sien iemand gaan vir my, vir Meneer vullis, vuilgoed aangee, of iemand gaan iets aan jou huis doen, of iemand gaan vir jou dit doen, of iemand gaan vir jou dat doen. Dit was die voorste oumense se geslagte het daai goeters gebruik. En ons praat nou maar (onhoorbaar 25:12). As ons nou stout is, dan maak Pa ons bang, hy en Ma, met die Voetoë, die Voetoog kyk vir ons.

Hoe’t hy gelyk, dié Voetoog?

Hulle het gesê dat hy soos ’n mens lyk, maar hy’s amper soos ’n mens, maar sy oë sit nie waar ons s’n sit nie, sy oë is op sy voete. Noem dit die Voetoog.

Oukei.

Dit is ’n, jong … Ek is vandag eintlik jammer my pa is dood, want my pa is eintlik die man, want Pa het vir ons baie, ons het mos nie soos nou wat ons kamers en goed het nie. Ons het ’n ponhokkie gehad. Ken jy die ponhokkie? Nou ons het in die ponhokkies grootgemaak, hierso maak ons kos, hier lê Ma en Pa, en daar lê ons kinders. En hier is die vuurherd, nou dan lê vertel Pa vir ons hierdie goeters wat ek nou van praat.

Ja.

Nou vertel Pa. My oorlê oupa het ook ’n Jantjie se Ram gehad, maar my oorlê oupa was ’n Moesoetoe-kaffer.

Wat …?

Moesoetoe-kaffer. Ja, my pa en my ma stam uit die Moesoetoes uit. Maar hulle is nou al twee dood. My ma was baie wit gewees.

Oukei.

Baie wit. Maar hulle is nou vandag al twee dood, Ma dood, Pa dood. Hulle is almal vandag dood. My man se pa was ôk ’n, my man se pa het ôk ’n lappie gedra. Weet Meneer nou die lappie?

Vertel vir ons van die lappie.

Nou die lappie is die, is die, is die bejasdraer. My oorlê pa sal vir jou alles sê. My oorlê oupa, my ma se pa, sal vir jou sê, as iemand iets met jou te doen het, hy sal vir jou … ek is ingesny.

Kan Antie wys waar Antie …?

My pa, my oupa het vir ons hier, hier so in my hare in, maar dit is baie fyn, jy kan dit seker nie meer sien nie.

Kan ek gou ’n foto neem?

Ek is ingesny, my oupa het my ingesny, jy moet net hier kyk, so. So, as jy ’n merkie …

Ja, daarso.

Dis, dit is …

[onderhoudvoerder neem foto]

En dan vat hulle nou dié goed, die bloedigheid … netnou sien die mense hoe lyk my kop …

Nee, dis reg.

Nou vat hulle dit, en dit gaan gooi hulle nou, soos hulle gesê het, gaan gooi hulle nou in die see.

Die see. Nou waar is dié see?

Dan gaan dit nou weg. My pa, my oupa het mos in, in Suider-Paarl gebly.

Uhm. So die, hulle vat die bloed wat uit die …

Dissem.

Wat sit hulle in?

En dan kan niemand … Nee, hy word nou net … Hulle het in sulke blikkietjies goed gehad.

Uhm.

Word net daar aangesmeer en môre weet jy niks.

Wat is in die blikkietjies?

Dit lyk soos duiwelsdrek. Hoe sê hulle, ken jy daai woord, duiwelsdrek?

Ja.

So ’n poeier.

En dan kan die Voetoog-goed nou nie by Antie kom nie?

Nee, niemand nie. Niemand kan, jy kan nou nie vir my vullis kom aangee nie. Jy kan niks vir my, doen aan my nie. Oupa het vir ons almal ingesny en soos ons … Oupa het my een seun ook ingesny, Thomas. Thomas. My oupa was ’n Weilbach (?? 28:22), was sy van. Weilbach gewees. Nou dit is waar jy … dan keer dit als so. Jy’s nie bang dat, jou huis kan iemand … jy hoef vir niks bang te wees nie. Maar dit noem hulle die bejas. Bejas, ja.

Die ingesny.

As jy ingesny is, kan niemand jou bejas nie. Niemand kan niks aan jou doen nie. Niemand kan aan jou huis iets doen nie. Niemand kan aan jou vrou iets doen nie. Niemand kan aan jou kinders iets doen nie. Daai ding is weggewas word. Dit is hoe …