When retired police general Hans van Rooyen finds himself in an old-age home, frail, anxious and alone, the last thing he expects is to be cared for by the daughter of former freedom fighters.
They Got to You Too, SA writer Futhi Ntshingila’s third novel, is a multilayered tale about the power of compassion.
Van Rooyen, referred to as “Madala”, was raised by two women who survived the 1899 South African War — his “oumagrootjie” (great-grandmother) and family servant Kristina, on the farm Groot Dame. At 80, he carries with him the memories of crimes he committed as an officer under the apartheid government. Having eluded public confession at the Truth and Reconciliation Commission for his time in the Border Wars, he retained his position in the new SA because his knowledge and experience was seen as a way to preserve institutional memory for a new generation of police recruits.
In the care home, Van Rooyen is plagued by ghosts and his nightmares are brutal: “When a man comes face-to-face with mortality, he battles. I suppose my default is rage but this time, I must admit, my mind is already surrendering. I am fooling no one. I feel myself going down the drain. I fear the unknown.”
Zoe Zondi is brought in to care for the troubled old man. A nurse by profession, she works six months of the year and travels the other six, recording her adventures for news outlets that pay her good money. Zoe’s gentle and compassionate nature prompts him to review his decision to go to the grave with all his secrets: “I know that you cannot kill another without killing bits of yourself in the process. There are many of us, walking zombies, who may have evaded the law and the TRC but are in the loop of our own torturous Groundhog Day,” he says.
Zoe has her own life story to tell and, as their unlikely bond deepens, they are forced into isolation when the Covid-19 lockdown is announced. Their seclusion provides a safe space for each to say the things often left unsaid: “We wear many masks, Mkhulu,” Zoe tells him. “Thank you for letting me put mine down for a bit and for showing me your face without your mask. I am sure you were a beautiful little boy; I saw a glimpse of him today. We are made of madness, Mkhulu. Madness.”
Through first-person narration, by a number of recurring characters from the past and the present, Ntshingila creates a sense of intimacy and emotional connection between her characters and the reader.
Ntshingila tackles complex topics, from the role of women in SA society, the concept of chosen family, fractured relationships between fathers and sons, to toxic masculinity and the burden of history. It is a deeply thought-provoking story of love, loss and reconciliation.