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| Dianne if I were u I would leave Middeleburg while you still lucky |
CHAPTER
ONE: THE RAID
It
was a hot night; summer in South Africa.
I
remember stretching out in my bed, in my short summer pajama’s and feeling
grateful for being surrounded by beautiful things; things that I had carefully
chosen for my new home. I was happy and
contented. My future looked peaceful with a long life ahead of me, filled with infinite
possibilities. I had nothing to fear
and all was good in my world. I fell
into a restful sleep, excited about the possibilities of the next day.
I woke
with the doorbell ringing incessantly, urgently. I opened my eyes and saw that it was
dawn. The sun was only just peeping out,
the freshness of a new day filling my lungs.
With uninhibited energy, I threw the sheet off my body and jumped out of
bed. There was no let-up to the ringing of the doorbell. I glanced over at the bedside clock. It was just after 5am.
My
mind was confused. I did not know who
could possibly want me so urgently at this time of the day. My son had a key to my back door, so it could
not be him and the telephone had not rung so I knew that it was not a family
member in trouble. I stumbled down the
stairs, not stopping to put on a gown or to cover my half-naked body that the
summer sleeping shorts and skimpy top failed to provide. Now I could hear someone banging on the
security fence and gate, the bell still ringing. I bumped into the coffee table as I moved
with as much speed as I could to the sliding front door, and pulled the curtain
aside. My mind was in shock. Standing around the front security gate was a
dozen grim-faced and well-dressed men wearing sunglasses, and a half a dozen
vehicles marked with the sign of the most feared police, the Scorpions.
"Open up! This is a search and seizure
operation."
Without
thinking I pressed the release button on the gate and pushed the handle down to
open the sliding door. Before I had time
to do anything else or even to get my mind around what was happening, these men
were inside. I stood there, holding
onto the corner of the door for support, disheveled, in very revealing pyjamas;
thinking that this must be a nightmare.
I noticed how well presented the men were; how shiny their shoes were
and how each of them were dressed in suits as though they were going to court
or to some very formal affair. When they were inside, I saw that there was one
woman and about six men, although I still do not know exactly how many of them
there were at that stage. All I know was
that there were enough of them to fill my lounge to overflowing. They were all black, except for one short,
coloured man who had a wad of papers in his hand.
"Are you Dianne Lang?" Harsh…aggressive…hostile.
"Yes."
"Are you the managing director of
the SA CARE Trust?"
"Yes."
"This is a warrant for a search
and seizure of these premises, the premises of your office and for your
vehicle. You have the right to remain
silent. Anything you say or do can be
held against you in a court of law. Do
you understand?" said the short coloured man.
He handed
me a pile of papers. All I saw on them
was 'warrant' and my address. I could
not take it in. The papers were stapled
together. There were about 15 pages
altogether. The papers were official
documents as they had government stamps on them. I flipped the first page over and saw that it
had been signed by a judge in the Grahamstown Supreme court.
"Yes."
"Where is your vehicle?"
"Out the back."
"Open the back door."
I
moved towards the back door, my mind in turmoil, not knowing what to do next or
what to think. I remember thinking that
perhaps I needed to phone my son or to phone Stuart, but my mobile phone was in
the kitchen. I also felt very vulnerable
and was aware of the lower half of my bum sticking out from my shorts. I felt as if the men were staring at me as I
walked. I was embarrassed, humiliated
and could feel the sweat beginning to run down my back and legs. I looked down to see wet marks on my top
where I had rubbed myself under my breasts to soak up the perspiration. As I turned the key in the back door, another
man standing immediately behind me and who had followed me to the door leaned
over my shoulder and pushed the door open, pushed past me towards the car.
"Where are the car
keys?" There was no aggression in
his voice; it was even a little friendly.
Taking
the few steps into the kitchen I handed him the car keys. He was the biggest of the men, with a bald
and very shiny head, fairly good looking and with an almost friendly look on
his face. I thought that here was a man
that I could communicate with, someone who may be able to stop anything ugly
from taking place, someone who I could perhaps speak to, a kind of ally. I did not know that this was part of the
modus operandi of the good cop versus the bad cop. He took the keys and went out the back
door. I was vaguely aware that a few
others followed him. There was a lot of
activity going on. People were going up
the stairs to my bedroom and bathroom, others were in the lounge, others were
standing talking quietly to one another in the lounge and there was one in the
kitchen going through the drawers. The
kitchen was divided from the lounge by a counter top that I used as a dining
table. I looked over the table top and
saw that there were two men going through my book case, taking every book out
and thumbing through the pages. The
woman was lifting the cushions from the couch, unzipping them and pushing her
hands under the covers, looking for something.
My
mind was either in overdrive or numb. I
could not think properly. My thoughts
were going from 'I have to get dressed, to I need coffee, to I need to go have
a wee, to I must get Niki, my son, here quickly'. A piece of paper fall out of one of the books
onto the floor and the man, who was flipping through the book, bent down and
picked it up. A slow smile spread over
his face as he opened the folded piece of paper and read it. I have to get my act together fast, I
thought, as I pulled sleep crusts from my eyes and rubbed my hands over my hair
to smooth it down.
"What is this all about? Explain this." the man said as he walked
over to me and handed the paper over. I
could see the 'House of Commons' logo clearly from a distance and immediately
knew what it was about. It was a letter
from the chairperson of the standing committee on aid to Africa, part of the
communication I was having with the father of a friend of mine regarding the
inappropriateness of aid for HIV and AIDS going to the government to be
distributed to non-governmental organizations.
The aid did not get to the people who were working at grassroots levels
and I was of the opinion that there was a better way of getting aid to the
people who needed it.
"It is a letter to me from an MP
in the UK." I said.
"We must take this," he said
with a knowing nod to one of the other men.
"Here is some more," another
man said as he walked down the stairs holding a number of my files in his
hands. He dropped the files onto the
ever growing pile in the middle of the lounge.
I
looked around for the friendly man, now that the enormity of the situation with
these Scorpions had sunk in. I wanted to
ask him if I could go and get dressed, but I could see out the kitchen window
that he was still busy at the car with some other men, every door, bonnet and
the boot open. It was important that I
start engaging with one of these people as a human being, and not as a criminal
with frightening cops. The coloured man
seemed to be supervising the search so I turned to him and asked him his
name. He put his hand into the inside
of his jacket pocket and as he did so, I saw that he had a shoulder holster on
and that he was armed. My eyes darted
around and I could see that they were all armed with some sort of gun or
pistol. He pulled out a business card
and handed it to me saying, "Will Manuel." The card had the logo of the Scorpions on it
as well as a logo with the scales of justice.
In large bold lettering it read 'The National Prosecuting Authority of
South Africa. Mr Whillynn Manuel.
Special Investigator' - the man I had spoken to as least a dozen times during
the past year.
"May I phone my son please, Mr
Manuel. He lives one door
away."
"Yes, you can phone
him."
I
picked up the mobile phone and called him.
"Niki, come quickly
please," and put the phone down.
"Can I go and get dressed please.
I also need to go to the toilet," I asked Manuel.
"No, you can't go anywhere until
I can get someone to escort you."
"But I need the toilet. I will pee myself."
"You will have to wait."
"Why?"
"Because you may try to hide
something from us."
"Where is your safe?" asked
another of the investigators. I pointed
to the bottom of the stairs, in the corner on the floor. "Open it!", he demanded. I took the safe key from the kitchen and
handed it to him.
"Go ahead and open it," I
said.
"No, you open it and open it
now!" he demanded.
"But I will have to crawl on the
floor and I am not appropriately dressed."
Just
then Niki walked in. He had thrown clothes
on and was as confused as I had been to what was going on.
"What's happening Mom?" he
said, breathlessly, putting his arms around me at the same time and standing
strong in front of the investigators.
"Why are you not dressed?" he said, trying to hide my bum by
standing behind me and wrapping his arms around my chest.
"These are the Scorpions and they
have a warrant to search and seize. They
won't let me dress until they have someone to go with me."
"Can't my son open it for you if
you won't?" I pleaded.
"No, you open it," he
demanded, handing the safe key back to me and opening his jacket so that I was
under no illusions that he was armed.
I
took the key in my shaking hand, bent down and got onto my hands and knees,
fully aware of the fact that now far too much of my anatomy was showing to all
these men standing around. I crawled
into the little space under the stairs, inserted the key and opened the
safe.
"Take everything out of the safe
slowly and carefully and place it on the floor beside you."
From
this angle, all I could see were the numerous highly polished police boots
standing around the bottom of the stairs.
I leaned forward and put my hand into the safe.
"No sudden movements," I
heard.
Since
I already knew that they were all armed, I was doing exactly as I was being
told. I pulled out a small pile of
papers that included my passport, identity document, my daughter's identity
document and my will. Next I pulled out
a box of ammunition and finally, I reached in and pulled out a 9mm pistol which
I put on the floor beside the other items.
"OK, move away
now...slowly."
I
got back onto my hands and knees and crawled backwards out of the small
space. Niki's arms lifted me back into a
standing position. One of the
investigators was looking through the documents while the other was studying
the ammunition and twisting the gun around and around his thumb.
"Be careful. That gun is loaded and the safety catch is
off," I said.
"Where is the license for you to
be in possession of this weapen?" asked the man with the gun.
I
opened my handbag which was hanging over the kitchen chair and took out my
purse. From the purse, I extricated the
license and handed it to him. He studied
the license and the markings on the gun and seemed satisfied that the license
was genuine. I could see the
disappointment on his face. This was not
what they had hoped to get out of a safe hidden under the stairs.
"Can my mom go and get
dressed?" my son asked Manuel.
"Not yet. When the lady investigator is finished then
she will accompany your mother", he replied.
It
was now 7am, two hours had gone by with every single item in the house being
lifted up, opened, and checked; and either put aside to remove from me or put
back more or less where it had been found.
My white carpets were brown from all the walking in and out of the
building and back inside again without anyone wiping their feet. My sacred space had been invaded and
destroyed. It looked like a bomb had
gone off in my home. Every single book
had been checked, the pages, spines and covers.
Every cushion, ornament, drawer, piece of furniture, every CD and every
DVD had been checked.
I
whispered to Niki to phone Stuart and tell him to come over quickly. Stuart was the chairperson of the SA CARE
Trust, the charity taking care of abused, abandoned, neglected and orphaned
children. I was still standing in very revealing outfit,
feeling like I would piss in my pants at any moment. Either the pressure on my bladder or the
audacity of what was happening was sinking in because an anger and indignation
welled up inside me. Before I could
think things through rationally, I was walking up the stairs to go to the
toilet and to get dressed.
"Where do you think you are
going?" shouted one of the investigators.
"I am going to piss, then I am
going to wash and then I am going to get dressed and if you want to come with
me, you are welcome to come and watch me", I shouted back at him as I
continued up the stairs. I walked across
my bedroom to the open-plan toilet, pulled my shorts down and sat on the
toilet. My bladder was so full that I
was in pain and could not urinate. I
leaned over to the bath and turned on the tap, knowing that the sound of water
would ease the urine from my bladder. I
knew that one of the investigators had followed me and he was now standing at
the door to my bedroom, watching me.
'Fuck him,' I thought. 'If he has
no values, morals or manners, then let him fucking watch me piss.' I heard someone being called but could not
catch the name. It sounded like Nobu or
something. As I wiped myself with toilet
paper, the female investigator walked in.
She was intimidating, not a small woman and she had an air of
superiority about her. Her attitude was
aggressive and hostile and she glared at me.
The male left the room. I walked
over to the wash hand basin and rinsed my face, taking no notice of her and not
speaking to her either. I was
angry. I brushed my teeth and walked
over to my wardrobe where I took out some clothes to wear, not paying too much
attention to what clothes would be suitable.
A pair of jeans and a t-shirt would do.
I pulled my top off over my head, pulled the shorts down and stepped out
of them. She was standing so close to
me that I kept on having to move away so that I could get my shirt on without
bumping into her. I could feel her
breath on me, she was that close. Then
it was to my panty drawer to find a pair of panties to put on. I could see that my drawers had been riffled
through. I slipped the panties on, again
having to move away from her to do so without banging into her. By the time I had got my jeans on I was on
the other side of the room, having had to move away from her to get my clothing
on. I started moving towards the stairs
but 'Nobu' or whoever she was told me to stand in the middle of the room and
not move.
"What for?" I asked, not
without some anger in my voice.
"Listen lady," she said,
"You have no rights. You are
suspected of crimes - serious crimes…and you will do as you are
told".
She
went down the stairs and I stood looking around my room. I spotted my laptop lying in its black case
between the roll-top desk and the dressing table. It had not been touched yet. Without thinking, I dashed across the room,
grabbed the laptop and hid it behind all my shoes under my bed. I was just back standing where 'Nobu' had
left me when she came up the stairs again with another male investigator. While I stood there, they went through every
drawer, the bedding, turned the mattress upside down and told me to pull out
everything from under the bed. I lay
down on the floor and duly pulled all the shoes and miscellaneous bags and
suitcases out from under the bed. I left
the laptop where I had put it. Since I
was not asked if I had removed everything, I did not tell them that the laptop
was still under the bed.
They
started going through my underwear drawer.
Every pantie was lifted into the air and dropped onto the floor. The same went for my bras. Then it was time for the socks. Every pair was unfolded and each sock had a
hand stuck in it and then they too, were unceremoniously dropped onto the
floor. While 'Nobu' was busy with my
clothing, the other man was busy going through the roll-top desk, taking every
document, piece of paper, diary and journal - reading it and then putting it
into a pile. I saw him take my journal
that I write down all my thoughts and feelings in and start reading.
"That is personal," I
said. "That contains only my
emotions and thoughts and has nothing to do with anyone or anything. Please don't read it. It is very, very personal."
"Nothing is personal
anymore. Don't you know what the warrant
said? This is a search and seizure to
find evidence of your crimes. We will
take whatever we want and we will read whatever we want," he said
harshly.
I
cringed inside. I died inside. He was reading the details of the child abuse
I had suffered as a child, something I was trying to deal with but was too
ashamed to share with anyone else. It
contained graphic details of sexual abuse, beatings and my emotional reaction
to what had happened. I could feel the
tears of humiliation running down my face.
"Please," I said. "Please, I am begging you. Don't take
that journal. It is very private. Please don't read it," I sobbed.
He
laughed and put the book under his arm. The
lady investigator scooped all the underwear up from the ground and dumped them
in the drawer. She shut it with a
bang. The next drawer was pulled
open. It had all my sleep wear in it and
a vibrator. I could feel my ears flush
with heat. Was this nightmare never
going to stop? She stuck her hand into
the drawer and pulled out this enormous vibrator that I had been given for my
50th birthday by my sister and her friend.
It was a very life-like, extra-large, rubber penis in bright pink. She held it up in her hands like the statue
of Liberty and turned it round and round.
Then with fascination, she screwed the bottom and pulled out the
batteries and peered inside the shaft.
She passed the offending bright pink penis to the other investigator and
he too, peered down the shaft of the offending piece. No, there were no drugs hidden in the
penis. The batteries were put back and
the penis turned on. It did not
work. The batteries were removed and
put in the other way around and it was turned on. Hurrah, the penis performed.
'Nobu' turned to me, "What do you
do with this?"
"You can have it if you
want. It has never been used." I
said.
She
dropped it back into the drawer and carried on going through all my clothing,
drawer after drawer, cupboard after cupboard, while the other investigator went
through my books, my files, my desk, looked behind the curtains, in the shower,
behind the toilet, in the toilet cistern, on top of the cupboards, in my
suitcases, bags, pockets and linen.
After about 2 hours I was told to follow them downstairs.
Stuart
had arrived and was going through the warrants.
He said there was nothing that we could do about it, the warrants seemed
to be in order and that we were to allow them access to whatever they
wanted. No one thought of calling a
lawyer. After all, I had nothing to
hide; I had not committed the crimes I was being accused of so there seemed
little point in even thinking of getting a lawyer. My mobile phone was ringing incessantly. I answered it. It was Diana Jagers, the committee
chairperson for the children's home in Middelburg. She was hysterical, telling me that she had a
dozen Scorpions raiding her home. As I
put the phone down the phone rang again and this time it was Tanya, the
secretary for the children's home telling me that there were about a dozen
Scorpions investigators at the office in Middelburg who were doing a search and
seizure. A group of Scorpions were doing
the same in the children’s home. Stuart
had gone off to work and he also phoned me when he got to his place of work to
tell me that there were a dozen Scorpion investigators at his place of work
with a warrant to search and seize.
By
this stage, the place was crawling with investigators in what I had now heard
was 'Operation Dynamite'. Investigators
had sealed off the front of the property, the back of the property and were
next door at our offices with both front and back sealed as well. When Janine, my secretary, came to work at
the office next door, she was confronted with a warrant to search and seize at
the Port Elizabeth office. Hours later,
they were finished taking things from my vehicle and my home and I was escorted
to the office where the search and seizure was in full swing. I was feeling numb by all that was
happening. My mind just could not take in
what was happening to me and everyone else and why this was such a big scale
investigation spread over so many properties and people. What on earth did they think I had done? I had not even looked at the warrants or what
crimes I was alleged to have committed.
It was only days later that I sat down and read them. I could not get my mind around the enormity
of this raid that had been sparked by a personal vendetta of a police officer
in Middelburg.
I
had been so sure that this would never happen because, after all, the Scorpions
were the best police officers in the country, according to the media. They involved themselves in organized crime
and corruption of high profile government officials and crimes involving more
than four million rand. I was so sure
that they would have seen that this was just the informer's personal vendetta against
me. The evidence and correspondence that
I had sent them clearly showed that there was no crime committed and that they
would leave it all where it deserved to be left. Surely, with the enormous work load and the
very real criminals that they were dealing with, they would not have time for
such a trivial matter where it was obvious no crime had been committed. Jacob Zuma, our future President was also
being subjected to the same raids and seizures that I was undergoing, so
whatever they thought I had done was just as important as that of our future
president. Little did I know how over-zealous they were,
and how many kudus it would bring them if they could take someone down who had
won humanitarian awards, and at the same time shut that person up and to stop
her from exposing human rights abuses by government officials. Little did I realize that the search and
seizure was to seize all evidence that I had against government officials as
well, or perhaps it was only to seize my evidence?
I
was getting phone calls in-between answering questions from the investigators
and watching them pull the office to pieces, writing down what they were
finding and carrying everything with them and placing them into the boot of
their vehicles. Tanya called me again
from Middelburg to tell me that every single document except the children's
files had been removed from the Children's Home office. They had also taken the computers with them
and the office was rendered useless. No
work could be done. The Scorpions had
gone through everything in the children's home, had taken serial numbers of
every electronic and electric item, had taken photos of everything in the home
and had questioned the children.
"What do you mean they questioned
the children? Were you there? What questions were they asking the
kids? Surely that is a human rights
abuse to be interrogating children?" I shouted down the telephone. Tanya started crying.
"Dianne, there was nothing I
could do. They were in both places at
once and I was not allowed to leave the office. The staff told me that they were questioning
the children and asking them where they got their uniforms from, how you paid
for them, where you got the money, where you bought the food and all kinds of things." I was immediately contrite.
"Don't cry Tanya. You did good.
It is not your fault. Best thing
you can do now is to go Spar and buy some cakes and sweets and cool-drinks, put
on a video or DVD for the kids, and try and get everyone to calm down. This will be OK. Don't worry about anything." Tanya calmed down. "I will ask Diana to come around as
soon as the Scorpions have left her house, OK?"
"Okay," she sniffled.
"Now you must be brave
Tanya. You have nothing to be afraid of. Everything will be alright. Just close the office. There is nothing you can do without computers
or files so go down and spend time with the children and do that for the next
few days until we can sort something out, OK?"
I
picked up the phone and called Diana.
The Scorpions had just left her home after going through it with a fine
toothcomb. They had taken her personal
computer as well as all the documents and files on the children's home,
including some of her own personal files.
She said she would go down to the children to see how they were doing.
"Are these all the financial
statements, invoices, and bookwork you have?" asked Manuel.
"No, the financial documents from
the preceding years are in storage at the storage facility which we pay
for. Here are the details and the pin
number to have them released," I said, as I wrote down the address and pin
number on a piece of paper. Manuel took
the paper and gave it to one of the other investigators and sent him to go and
fetch them.
"Where are your personal
financial documents?" Manuel asked.
"The current and last year's
documents are with the auditors, Buckingham and Associates and the previous
years are with Margy Fourie Accounting Services."
I
wrote down the addresses for Manuel and more investigators were dispatched to
these people to seize documents. I
quickly phoned Margy Fourie to warn her that the Scorpions were on their way,
but never got a chance to let Buckingham and Associates to warn them. It may have been, in retrospect, a good thing
that I never managed to warn Buckingham and Associates because the Scorpions
had tramped on the lion's tail when they raided the auditors for my
property. They tried to take all my
details off their computer but only managed to wipe the auditor's hard drive
clean. This left them in a predicament because
all their work was lost, not only my audited financials. They also took all the documents that
belonged to me, with Christine, the auditor, shouting and cursing them every
step of the way.
The
investigators were sitting at all three desks in the office. The female investigator, who I now knew as
Nobulali Gawe, had asked me for a chair because she wanted to sit as well. Off I went to get her one. She was grabbing
documents on the desk, shuffling them around and mixing them up, completely
destroying the order of the documents.
"Hold on a minute. Don't do that. Let me tell you what belongs with what. Some of those documents are outstanding
invoices that must be paid..."
"Don't tell me what to do. You have no rights here. I can do as I like. Best you get away from me. You had better be careful otherwise we will
have you arrested for obstructing justice," she said with unbelievable
hostility and aggression.
"Do not speak to me like
that. I was only trying to help."
"I don't need your help. Get out of my way. You have no rights. You are a nothing," she hissed.
My
heart hammered in my chest. The audacity
of this woman! I could feel the anger
rise, and I had to control myself not to say anything else to her. I walked out the main office into the office
kitchen where the good cop was going through the files stored in the
cupboards.
"Excuse me," I said. "I would like to know who is in charge
of this investigation."
The
man turned to look at me and reaching into his jacket pocket, pulled out a
business card and handed it to me.
"My name is Mbomiswa. I am
the senior special investigator."
"Can you please do something
about that woman in there," I said, pointing back towards the office. "She is rude and aggressive. I have not stood in your way at all, and I
have been more than cooperative. Can you
please sort her out? She has no manners
and no respect."
The
tears were falling and a great sob erupted from my chest. The numb shock had left me, and my mind was
trying to get through the horror of what was going on. Mr Mbomiswa looked shocked and went to speak
to Nobulali Gawe. He came back into the
kitchen and apologized to me for her behavior, suggesting that I make a formal
complaint to the National Directorate of Prosecutions. I never did bother to do that. My life was too upside down from that day on
to bother with individual people and their obnoxious behavior. However, for the rest of the day this
obnoxious woman stayed away from me and never spoke to me again.
Stuart
called me on my mobile phone to tell me that the Scorpions had removed the
foundation files from his office, and that he had been driven at 180km per hour
to his home, 30 km’s away. The
Scorpions were searching his home. Some
investigators were still at his place of employment where they were attempting
to remove data from his computer at work.
His voice was very calm and controlled but as I knew him well, I knew that
he was trying very hard to keep his emotions and anger under control.
I
was feeling very guilty about the number of people who were now being raided,
questioned and interrogated just because they had links to me. I felt responsible for what was happening to
them and I just kept on apologizing to everyone whenever they called me with
more news on the raids or with more questions on how to handle things. I told Diana, Tanya and Margy Fourie to just
tell the truth because I had done nothing wrong; and if they thought they were
protecting me by withholding information, then it would look like I was guilty
of something.
It
was almost lunchtime and most of the documents in the office had been loaded
into the vehicles outside; vehicles that were arriving and going and
investigators who were in and out of the office. Niki had gone to work, Stuart was being held
at his home while the Scorpions did their search and seizure, Abby, one of my
assistant’s was so afraid that I had sent her home and only Janine, my personal
assistant, and I were at the office with the investigators. With the vehicles with the Scorpion logo that
were coming and going, the neighbors were becoming very interested in what was
going on. They were also walking up and
down in the front and back of the building. The keys to my vehicle were handed back to
me. Nothing was taken or found in the
vehicle.
"Are you finished with me
now?" I asked Manual. I had by now
found out that he was the Investigating Officer on the crime. The Senior Investigating Officer, Mr
Mbomiswa, my good cop, had left earlier in the day.
"No, we are waiting for the
computer specialists to come and take copies off of your computers," he
replied.
"What exactly are you looking
for? What do you think I have done
because I gave you everything, including the audited financials, months and
months ago when I first learned that I was being investigated?" I asked.
"Well, there seems to be an
amount of one million rand that has gone into your private funds from the trust
since 2000."
I
was shocked. Where on earth did they get
that idea?
"That is ludicrous. It is impossible. We have never had money like that in the
trust account to transfer to me. How did
you get that idea?"
"Well," he said, "There
has been a lot of money going from the trust account into accounts in your name
and there have been large transfers of money from the trust to your private
bank account."
"Of course there would be that
kind of transfers going on. The
telephone bills, the lights and water, the doctor's bills, the petty cash bank
account are all in my name, but they are the trust's things and are paid by the
trust. Just because the actual accounts
are in my name does not mean that they are for my benefit. Also, money that is transferred to my bank
account is money that I have loaned the trust when they don't have money, and
then it is paid back. I have often had
to borrow money from my bond to pay salaries and things, and then when we get
money in, it is paid back to me. I have
never taken one penny for myself", I replied, my voice rising with
indignation and anger.
"Then how can you explain a transfer
of twenty thousand rand to your personal bank account?"
"I have just told you, when the
trust has no money I lend the trust money by borrowing from my bond, and then
when there is money in the trust it is paid back to me. You have all the financial documents so it
is easy to see exactly what is going on.
I don't even do the books myself.
My private books are done by one auditor and the trust books are done by
another auditor, so if there was any funny business going on then they would
have to be in on it too, which is not the case.
I am shocked that you have had to resort to a raid like this when I
specifically asked you in a letter not to do something like this and to ask me
anything you wanted from all the financial statements that I had sent
you."
"You can't tell us how to do our
jobs."
"I am not telling you how to do
your job. I just thought that you would
use your common sense, see that the informer has a personal vendetta against
me, have a look at the financials and then do the right thing and drop this
nonsense."
"I am not an auditor or an
accountant so I don't know how to interpret those kinds of things."
"Then how can you just assume
that I am guilty of stealing a million rand?"
He
did not answer and looked away.
"How do you expect me to take
care of all the children in my care with this going on? I can't run a charity with no documents. No matter what you do those kids still have
to be taken care off, housed, fed and schooled? This is going to have a seriously
detrimental effect on the children."
"Would you like to speak to
Advocate Cilliers? He is the person who
in charge of this investigation."
"Yes, please."
Manual
took out his mobile phone and called a number, spoke for a few minutes to
Cilliers and then handed me the phone.
"Mr Cilliers, I am responsible
for over forty children. How do you
think I am going to be able to do that now that you have taken everything from
us? As it is, the Department of Social
Development has a problem with me, and this is going to play right into their
hands. Those children are my
responsibility and without any documents or anything else, they are at
risk."
"Would you like me to write a
letter to the Department of Social Development informing them that you are not
being charged for any crime at this stage and it is merely an
investigation?" he asked.
"Yes, please. Can you tell me how long this investigation
is going to go on for, and when I will be able to get my things back?" I
asked.
"Well, we are all going on
holiday so we will be closed for Christmas, but everything should be wrapped up
by the end of February, the latest. Remember,
this is only a preliminary investigation and you are not being charged with any
crime at this stage."
"Mr Cilliers, every transaction
from my private bank to the trust's bank and back again is legitimate. When the trust has no money, I borrow money..."
I was saying when he interrupted me.
"Mrs Lang, I have to advise you
that anything you say can be held against you and you are advised to seek legal
counsel."
"But I have nothing to hide. I am only telling the truth and why would I
need legal council when I am telling the truth?" I asked.
"Just be warned. You do not have to answer any questions, but
if you do, it can be held against you."
I
was getting nowhere so ended the conversation. I looked over and saw that one of the
investigators was reading something on the computer. I could see from where I was sitting what it
was. My heart sank. At the same time I could feel the warmth of
humiliation and embarrassment spreading over my face. Was nothing sacred? Was my soul being raped over and over
again? I had been humiliated and
embarrassed by not being dressed early in the day, worried that they had taken
my private journals and now they were actually reading my innermost thoughts,
my one great secret that I did not want anyone to know.
"Please, that's private. Please, please, please don't read
that..." I begged as I touched the man on his shoulder.
He
turned to me, sneered and turned back to continue reading. I wanted to die. I did not want to be there in my skin
anymore. I cringed and went and sat
down on one of the chairs not occupied by an investigator. I had no fight left in me. My soul and spirit had been raped. There was nothing left of me that was private
or that I could call 'me'. I now
belonged to everyone to do with as they pleased. There was no control. I was empty.
The tears poured unchecked down my cheeks. I had no energy to wipe them away. I was numb.
Louis Jenner had promised to see me in the gutter with nothing. He had done his worst and I was left with
nothing inside of me.
Perhaps
my tears softened Manual; perhaps he was a human being with feelings. He had not been nasty or rude to me but now
he appeared softer somehow. Perhaps he
was realizing that he had made a mistake.
He leaned over and grabbed a tissue from the box on the opposite desk
and handed it to me.
"Don't be upset." he said.
I
could not even answer him. How could he
tell me not to be upset when he was responsible for unbelievable trauma; when
he could not use his common sense and had made the situation worse with this
investigation? I was done in, shattered
and empty. An investigator I had not
seen before walked in with cases of equipment and sat down in front of one of
the computers. He was going to take a
copy of everything off the computers. He
was battling to do whatever it was he was trying to do. Most of the investigators had left, including
the miserable female. There was only the
investigator trying to take copies from the computers, one other investigator
and Manuel left. I offered them a cup of
coffee which they accepted.
"Can you tell me how the money
between you and the trust works?" asked Manual.
"I don't think I am going to
answer any of your questions because your Advocate Cilliers told me that you
could use the answers against me and I don't want to talk about anything now
because whatever I say may be misconstrued so if you don't mind, I will not
answer any of your questions," I said.
Just
then I was interrupted by a call from Stuart.
"Guess what, these fucking bastards have forgotten their equipment
here at the office. They brought me back and left. All their equipment to take copies from the
computer are lying here. What a fucking
bunch of pricks!"
"Well, they are still here trying
to take copies from the computers but they struggling. Are you OK?" I asked.
"Ja, I'm fine...just fucking
angry. They think they can do as they
fucking please... driving at 180km an hour...no regard for the speed
limit...fucking cunts. They digging a hole
they going to fall into themselves and this is all because of that fucking
Jenner."
Stuart
was ranting and raving and swearing non-stop, not that I blamed him. I realized that the reason why they could
not get what they wanted from the computers is because they had left some of
their equipment behind at Stuart's office.
I told Manual that they had forgotten something at Stuart's office and
after he spoke to the computer investigator, he called someone to go and
collect their equipment at Stuart’s office.
"Are these all your
computers?" Manual asked.
"No, we have one in for
repairs."
"Tell them to bring the computer
back."
I
did as I was asked and phoned Gary to bring the computer. He brought it back immediately. Gary was asked for advice about how to copy
from a hard drive without corrupting the files.
He told the computer investigator how to do it. He left the computer, which the Scorpions
subsequently seized.
"This is taking too much
time. We will just take your computers and
return them when we are finished with them."
"No, you can't do that. We cannot run the children's home without the
computers so you must take what you want from them and leave them with
us," I said.
The
missing Scorpion equipment duly arrived and eventually they had what they
wanted, leaving us with computers that we could not work on because all the
files had been corrupted by them.
Sometime in the afternoon, all the Scorpions left. Manual promised me that the matter would be
dealt with and the documents and equipment that they had seized would be
returned to us before February.
It
was the 6th December 2006.
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