All language subtitles for Cry.the.Beloved.Country.1951.1080p.WEBRip.x265-RARBG_2_English

[PEOPLE SINGING INDISTINCTLY]

NARRATOR:There is a lovely
road that runs from Ixopo
into the hills.

These hills are grass covered
and rolling,

and they are lovely
beyond any singing on it.

The grass is rich and matted.

You cannot see the soil.

It is well tended and not
too many cattle feed upon it.

nKeep it, guard it, care for it,

for it keeps men, guards men,
cares for men.

Destroy it,
and man is destroyed.

But the rich green hills
break down.

nThey fall to the valley below,

and falling,
change their nature,

for they grow red and bare.

They cannot hold
the rain and mist,

and the streams are dry
in the kloofs.

-Too many cattle
feed upon the grass...
-[COW MOOING]

...and too many fires
have burned it.

[COW MOOING]

Down in the valleys,
women scratch the soil
that is left. They are valleys
of old men and old women,
of mothers and children.

The men are away.

The young men
and the girls are away.

The soil cannot
keep them anymore.

[ALL CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY]

Where are you going?

I am taking this letter
to umfundisi.

-You will be late for school.
-No, I am running.

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

Come in.

Come in, my child.

Umfundisi, I bring you a letter.

Where did you get it,
my child?

From the store, umfundisi.

The white man
asked me to bring it you.

That was good of him.
Go well, small one.

Perhaps you might be hungry?

Not really hungry, umfundisi.

Perhaps a little hungry?

Yes, a little hungry, umfundisi.

Then go to the mother.

Perhaps she might
have some food.

STEPHEN: Do you know
anything about a letter?

No.

Look at it.

Reverend Stephen Kumalo,
St. Mark's Church,
Ndotsheni, Natal.

-It is not from our son.
-Perhaps, it's from
my brother John.

It's not from John.

How we desire such a thing,
and when it comes,
we fear to open it.

Who is afraid?
Open it.

"My dear brother in Christ.

"I have had the experience

"of meeting a young woman
here in Johannesburg.

"I understand she is the sister

-"of the
Reverend Stephen Kumalo..."
-Gertrude.

"This young woman

"is very sick,

"and therefore, I ask you
to come quickly
to Johannesburg."

Johannesburg.

"Yours faithfully,
Theophilus Msimangu."

Have you eaten, my child?

Yes, Reverend.

Thank you
for bringing the letter.

Will you take my thanks
to the white man
at the store?

Yes, Reverend.

Go well, small one.

-Stay well, umfundisi,
stay well, Mother.
-Go well, my child.

Bring me the Saint Chad's money.

This money was to send
Absalom to the high school
in Saint Chad.

Absalom will never
go to Saint Chad.

How can you say such a thing?

I must say what is true.

When people go to Johannesburg,
they do not come back.

Yes.

You're right.

When people go to Johannesburg,
they do not come back.

They do not even write anymore.They're lost, and no one
hears from them at all.

-You're hurting yourself.
-Hurting myself?

Hurting myself?

I do not hurt myself.

It is they who are hurting me.

My own son, my own sister,
my own brother.

Go up and ask the white man
at the store.

Perhaps there are letters.

Perhaps they've fallen
under the counter or been
hidden amongst the food.

Look in the trees.

Perhaps they've been
blown there by the wind.

You're hurting me also.

That, I may not do.

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

-Umfundisi.
-Yes, my friend?

I am in trouble.

What is your trouble?

You know, umfundisi,

it is our contract that each
of my children must work
so many months

for the white man, Jarvis.

And now, when it is time
for doing the contract,
my son has not returned.

STEPHEN: Yes?

And Jarvis says
we must leave his place.

-STEPHEN: Yes.
-And where shall we go,
umfundisi?

My friend, what can I do?

I thought you could
speak to Jarvis.

I'm going on a journey
to Johannesburg.

Why do you not ask the teacher?

I asked him, umfundisi,

but he says he could not
do such a thing.

Why do you think I could do it?

You are the umfundisi.

-Thought you could speak.
-Jarvis does not even know
who I am.

Perhaps if I were not going
on this journey...

MAN: Where shall we go,
umfundisi?

Go well on your journey,
umfundisi.

MAN: Perhaps if you should
see my son in Johannesburg...

STEPHEN: I would do it,
my friend.

[ENGINE SPLUTTERING]

FRANK: Hello, James.

Hello, Frank.

FRANK: You're an optimist.

Well, I'm trying.

James, you're wasting
your time and just spoiling
your tractor.

How are Dick and Barbara?

They're well, James,
they're well.

-Do they like living
in the springs?
-Yes, they like it. -Dick's going strong.
He got a raise last month.
-Good.-I see your son's
going strong, too.
-Uh-huh.

Dick sent me
the Johannesburg paper.

-FRANK: Shaking hands, too.
They're moving fast.
-Yes.

I know they need
native housing
in Johannesburg.

This whole shanty town business
is a damn disgrace.

But damn it, James.

He and I don't see eye to eye
on these matters, Frank.

FRANK: I guess you don't.

No, keep the paper.
Thought Margaret might
like to see it.

She would like to see it.

He can't do wrong
in his mother's eyes.

Yeah, it's funny, James.
You can't deny it.

Here, we can't get labor
because all our labor
wants to go to the cities.

When they get there,
there aren't enough
houses for them.

Arthur tries to get them
more houses, and you and I,
James, get less labor.

Sometimes I think
I'll chuck farming.
[CHUCKLES]

It is funny.
You can't deny it.

Well, I'll be going.

Houses.

Well, I understand
about the houses,

but why does he have
to shake hands?

MARGARET: I thought
you weren't coming.
Hence, I started.

That's all right, dear.

Where's my paper?

What paper?

June telephoned
and said Frank was
bringing me a paper.

Well, he brought it. I threw it down in the field.

You know Frank.
[SCOFFS]

By now he's told
the whole countryside.

I'm proud of it.

But I'd like to have
seen his picture.

Yes, yes, of course.

Arthur leads his own life,
I don't mind that.

But he might consider
other people.

That's what he's doing.

You know quite well
what I mean.

Old William's wife
was here today.

Is it true that they
have to leave the farm?

-Now, my dear...
-Yes, James, I know,

but old Williams
worked for us for years.

It's not his fault
if his son goes away.

It's a matter of contract.

Yes, I know, but...

I'm running a farm,
not a charity.

Old William's all right.

His family, a lot
of good for nothing
scoundrels.

MARGARET: All right, James.

What did the doctor say?

Oh, just what he said before.

I must be careful.

No sudden excitements.

I mustn't lift heavy weights.

I mustn't worry.

So I suppose I mustn't worry
about old Williams.

Have you told me everything
the doctor said?

Don't fuss, James,
I told you everything.

Well, look after yourself, dear.

You know,
this matter of William...

Yes, James?

You see,
it's a matter of contract.

[TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS]

[ENGINE WHIRRING]

[CLUCKING]

Umfundisi?

Yes, my friend?

I have a favor to ask.

Ask it then.

You know Sibeko?

STEPHEN: Yes.

Umfundisi,
Sibeko had a daughter.

She worked with
white man uSmith in Ixopo.

Now the daughter of uSmith
married, and she went to live
in Johannesburg.

And the daughter of Sibeko
went with them
to work for them.

The address
is there, umfundisi,

with the new name
of this married woman.

But Sibeko has heard
no word of his daughter
this 10, 12 months.

-He asked you
to inquire, umfundisi.
-Springs.

Springs,
I've heard of this place.

It is not Johannesburg,

but they say it is near.

Why did not Sibeko
come to me himself?

He is not of our church.

Is he not of our people?

Can a man in trouble
go only to those
of his own church?

MAN: I shall tell him,
umfundisi.

Tell him I shall go.

I shall do all I can, my friend,
but I shall be busy.

I have many things
to do in Johannesburg.

[TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS]

Umfundisi, you go well.

My friend, stay well.

[TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWS]

Umfundisi.

There are the mines.

Those white hills
in the distance.

Can we see the gold?

That is only the rock
out of the mine.

STEPHEN: Who digged it?

We dig it.

When it is too hard to dig,
we go away.

The white men blow it out
with the dynamite.

And we come back
and load it onto the trucks.

STEPHEN: And how
is it brought out?

In the cage.

They wind it up
with a long rope
on the wheel.

Wait, I'll show you one.

And for this,
there's the wheel.

STEPHEN: What do
the white men do
with the gold?

They send it to the white men
in America.

STEPHEN: And what
do they do?

They have a big hole
in the ground and they
put it all back again. [ALL LAUGHING]

They say that is what makes
the world go around.

[ALL LAUGHING]

Do they pay much money
in the mines?

Not much, umfundisi.
Three shillings a day.

You can get more
money than that
in Johannesburg, umfundisi.

My brother knows a man
who gets £5 a week.

STEPHEN: Where does
he get such money?

In the factory.

A man can do many things
in Johannesburg, umfundisi.He can work in the mines,
or in the white man's houses,

or help in the garage
or teaching at schools.

He can even be a doctor
for our people.

And what can a woman do?

[ALL CHUCKLING]

It is not like
the country, umfundisi.

STEPHEN: Is this Johannesburg?

[ALL LAUGHING]

No, no, that is nothing.

MAN: This is Johannesburg.

MAN: That is one
of those places
that they call the flats,

where the white people live.

Where do our people live?

Not here, umfundisi.
They live outside.

STEPHEN: How do
they come to work?

Horses, trains, bicycles.

You'll see.

The Alexandria bus
has gone to six pence,
so the people walk. -Is it far?
-Ten miles.

[PEOPLE SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY]

-[ANNOUNCER SPEAKING
INDISTINCTLY]
-[INDISTINCT SHOUTING CONTINUES]

[HORN HONKING]

[ENGINE WHIRRING]

Where do you want
to go, umfundisi?

To Sophiatown.

Come with me,
and I shall take you
to the buses.

Listen.

You must stand in line.

Have you your money
for the ticket?

Shall I get your ticket
for you, umfundisi?

Then you need not lose
your place in the line,

while I go
to the ticket office.

[CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY]

Father Tisa.

Father Gregory.

Welcome to the
mission house, Mr. Kumalo.

How do you do, Mr. Kumalo?

Very well, thank you.

Father Thomas.

MAN: Father Vincent?

This is Mr. Kumalo
from Ndotsheni.

Welcome to Johannesburg,
Mr. Kumalo.

Mr. Kumalo has already had
a welcome to Johannesburg.

A young man guides him
to the buses and he says
to our friend,

"You stand there in the line
and I shall get your ticket
for the bus.

"Have you money, umfundisi?"

Oh, yes.
The umfundisi has a pound.

Young man goes around
the corner with the pound,

and our friend waits and waits.

But of course, he does not
see the young man again.

-And of course,
he does not see the pound.
-[ALL LAUGHING]

Out there, there are many
such young men about.

[BELL DINGING]

Perhaps you'd like
to wash after your journey. I have a room for you
at Mrs. Lithebe's here,
just over the street.-And we shall all
meet again at dinner.
-[LAUGHING]

Umfundisi, if anything
is wanted, I have only
to be asked.

Thank you, Mother.

You will pardon me,
but I'm anxious to hear
about my sister.

She is much younger
than you.

She was the child
of my father's age.

You'll pardon me
if I ask you first.

Why did she come
to Johannesburg?

She came with a small child
to find her husband,

who was recruited
for the mines,

but he never came back.

Is she very sick?

Yes.

She is very sick.

But it is not
that kind of sickness.

It is another,
a worse kind of sickness.

I do not know if she
ever found her husband,

but she has no husband now.

It would be truer to say
that she has many husbands.

This is terrible news for you.

Will you smoke?

I do not really smoke.

Sometimes it quietens
one to smoke.

But there should be another
kind of quiet in a man.

And then let him smoke
to enjoy it.

I have another great sorrow.

You must tell me.

A son, maybe.
Or a daughter?

Son.

Absalom is his name.

We sent him
to look for my sister,
but he too never came back.

Now, I'm still more afraid.

We will try to find him,
my friend.

We shall find him.

Have no fear.

Where is this place
where my sister lives?

We shall go there tomorrow.

[PEOPLE SINGING INDISTINCTLY]

[PEOPLE LAUGHING]

You want to go alone?

It would be better.

MSIMANGU: You will find me
next door at number 13.There are people
of our church there.

But their eldest daughter's
just run away.

Come in, my brother.

So, this is your house.

Where's your husband?

I have not found him.

You did not write to tell us.

I had no money.

Not even two pennies
for a stamp?

And you've been in prison.

Was it for liquor?

I was not guilty.
There was another woman.

And you stayed with her?

-Yes.
-And helped her with her trade?

I had to have money
for the child.

Where is the child?

It shall be fetched.

My boy!

Big sinner.

A prostitute,

with a child.

And your brother, a priest.

[SOBBING]

Child...

[CONTINUES SOBBING]

Have you forgotten me?

You have forgotten me.

This is no place
for a child like this.

Have you many things?

These things that you see.

A few dishes,
and pots and pans.

Why did you not go
to our brother John?

I went to our brother John.

Do you know
what he said to me?

He said, "Your trade
is as good as mine."

[PEOPLE CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY]

-[KNOCKING ON DOOR]
-JOHN: Come in.

Yes, umfundisi,
what can I...

Well, well, my brother.

Who can believe it?

You know my friend.

Everyone knows the father.

Come and sit down,
gentlemen,

and we shall have some tea.
[CHUCKLES]

Is your wife well, my brother?

Oh, my wife has left me
these ten years, my brother.

Are you married again?

Oh, married.
Not what the church
calls married. I can't lie to men
with such collars,

but she's a good woman.

Now tell me,
what brings you
to Johannesburg? Our sister.
I am taking her back
with me.

Well, well,
that is a good thing.

I offered her money
to help her to go back
to Ndotsheni, but...

She paid no attention to me,
so we do not meet anymore.

Tell me.
What do you know
about my son?

-You have heard no doubt that
he was friendly with my son.
-Yes, I heard.

Well, my son did not understand
his second mother.

So he left,
and your son went with him.

And you let them go?

JOHN: They were not children.

But here, in Johannesburg.

Why not?

A boy must learn to be a man. What kind of a man?

My kind of a man.

The kind of a man
I would like my son to be.

You can read it all
in this speech.

JOHN: The church will speak
of repentance and obedience,

but of the things
that most need amendment,

Sophiatown. Pimville.

It speaks of those.

It has spoken like that
for 10, 50 years.

Have you seen
any change there?

The laws, the wages,
the poverty.

My brother...

Have you seen
the Bishop's house?

Is it like your own
in Ndotsheni?

And you want us
all to return there,

me, our sister,
your son, my son.

Let us be obedient
to the church and the chief.

My wife told me
you would be changed.

Of course I am changed.

There is a new thing
growing here.

Stronger than any church
or chief.

STEPHEN: My brother,
where did these two boys go?

I do not rightly know.
No, wait a minute.

They were both
working in a factory.

Wait, I'll look
in the telephone book.

JOHN: Here it is.

Doornfontein Textile Company.

14 Krauser Street.

Can we not telephone?

What for?

To ask if Absalom Kumalo
is there?

To ask them to call him
to the telephone,
to ask for his address?

They do not do such things
for a Black man, my brother.

MSIMANGU: It does not matter.

My hands are yours,
my friend.

There. You can see
for yourself when he left.

Flamini?

Sir?

-You remember Absalom Kumalo?
-Yes, sir.

You know where he is now?

I do not know
where he is now,

but I remember
where he used to stay.

He stayed in Sophiatown
with people called Ndlela.

Umfundisi, a year
or more ago.

Where he went,
I don't remember.

But wait.I had a letter from him.

Why did you look
at my friend with pity?

We did not like
the boy's friends.

That is why he left.

Was there anything
worse than that?

There was nothing
worse than that.

There's the letter, umfundisi,
and there's the address.

Thank you, Mother.

I will write it down.

[CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY]

MSIMANGU:
We're looking for a boy.

Absalom Kumalo.

WOMAN: He has left. It is many, many months
since he left.

MSIMANGU: Where did he go?

WOMAN: I do not know
where he went.

Do you think I have walked
all this way and will go
away like a fool?

The Holy Church.

MAN: God bless the church.

His head goes round
and round.

I can see that.

[MAN CHUCKLES]

The Holy Church.
God bless the church.

STEPHEN: This young man,
Absalom Kumalo,

how did he behave himself?

There was nothing wrong.

Then why are you afraid?

-I'm not afraid.
-Then why are you trembling?

I'm cold.

We thank you.
Stay well.

Go well.

MAN: The Holy Church.
God bless the church.

My friend, two of us
are too many together.

Turn left at the big street
and go up the hill.

You'll find a place
for refreshments.

Wait for me there.

I swear to you on this book
that no trouble will come
to you of this,

for we seek only a boy.

So help me, God.

What sort of life
did they lead?

They brought many things here.

Clothes,

watches, money, food.

Was there ever
blood on them?

I never saw blood on them.

-Did she speak?
-Yes, she spoke.

We have to look
for a taxi driver named Hlabeni.

I'm told you can
help me to find a young man.

Absalom Kumalo.

I'm not here for trouble.

Look for yourself.

He's looking for a son
that is lost,

and everywhere we go,
they tell us to go
somewhere else.

Yes, I know this young man.

And where is he now?

He went to shanty town.

But that was a year ago.

Can you take us there?

Get in, please.

[CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY]

You mean he lives here?

In this very house.

But that was long time ago.

Wait here, Father.

He was here, umfundisi,
but they sent him over
to the reformatory.

Reformatory?

WOMAN: Yes, some six,
nine months ago.

What is the trouble?

They were gambling.

[PEOPLE MARCHING]

This is the reverend,
Mr. Kumalo.

Kumalo? Absalom Kumalo?

Yes, Absalom Kumalo.

You know, he told me
he had no people.

He was no doubt ashamed.

I should tell you, sir,

his father learned only today
that his son was here.

I understand.

Your son did well
here, umfundisi.

If he does as well outside,
you'll have nothing to fear.

It means that he has gone?

We let him go, partly
because he behaved
himself well,

but mainly because of a girl.

-Girl?
-Yes, a girl.

You know, she was
with child by him.

Is he married to her?

No, he's not. But we're arranging
for him to marry. That's why I got him this job.

Come, I'll take you
to Pimville where they live.

[CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY]

We've come to ask
after Absalom.

This umfundisi is his father.

He went on Saturday
to work, and he has
not returned.

Saturday? He doesn't
work on Saturdays.

And this is Tuesday.

You heard nothing?

No, nothing.

When will he return?

I do not know.

Will he ever return?

I do not know.

What will you do?

Perhaps you'll find
another man.

-I do not know.
-My child.

Yes, umfundisi?

How old are you?

I think I'm 16.

Where are your father
and mother?

My father left us.

Because my mother
was often drunk.

Is that why you left her?

No, I did not understand
my second father.

Have you not troubles
enough of your own?

I tell you, were your back
as broad as heaven,
and your purse full of gold,

and did your compassion reach
from here to hell itself,

there is nothing you can do.

I'm going back
to speak with her.

I tell you, you can do nothing.

There are thousands
like that in Johannesburg.

You do not understand.

The child will be
my grandchild.

Even that you do not know.

And if it is so, how many
more such have you?

Shall we search them out
day after day, hour after hour?

Will it ever end?

Kumalo. Absalom Kumalo.

MAN ON PHONE: Kumalo. Kumalo.

Well, he was absent Monday
so we struck him off.

Couldn't you keep the job open?

Say, till Friday?

I'm ashamed.

I see that you are ashamed.

I ask your forgiveness
for my ugly words.

I'm old.

I've learned something.

You're forgiven.

Sometimes I think
I'm not fit to be a priest.

I could tell you...

There's no matter.

You told me you were
a weak and selfish man,

but God put his hand on you.

It's true, it seems.

You comfort me.

Hey, I have something
to ask you.

I agree.

You agree? To what?

That we should come back
another day to see the girl.

You're clever too, it seems.

[CHUCKLES SOFTLY] It's not good
that only one should be clever. Cheer up, old man.
He might be sick,
had an accident, anything.

Yes, he might.

See you again.

I telephoned the factory.

He's not been there this week.

I'm sorry for this end
to his work.

Yes, it's my work.

It's his son.

Do not give up hope, umfundisi,
I will not give up the search.

After all, he might be sick.

He might have had an accident.

Anything.

Are you sure it's all right?

Tell you, the woman
and the children are away,
the white man is at work. It's only the servant there.

Have you got the revolver?

What do you want?

Want money and the clothes.

SERVANT: How can you do
such a thing? [MEN CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY]

Master! Master!

[GUN FIRES]

I'm going over.
You ring for the police.

Yes.

[GROANING]

Arthur!

My God!

My God.

-Murder?
-Yes.

-Who?
-Jarvis.

-Arthur Jarvis?
-Yes.

-By natives?
-Yes.

Jack, what have I missed?

Arthur Jarvis.
Murdered. By natives.

Yeah, that's bad.

What do you mean?
Especially bad?

Of course, especially bad.

Wasn't he always
fighting for them?

That'll make a man
careful what he fights for,
don't you think?

What do you mean?

What do I mean?
Do you want an ABC?

Look what he does
and see what he gets.

The bastards.

Hello, Captain.

Bring any rain with you?

I don't see any, Mr. Jarvis.

Hmm. Neither do I.

Well, what brings you out today?

Mr. Jarvis, I...

I have bad news for you.

Bad news?

Is it my son?

Yes. Mr. Jarvis.

Is he dead?

He was shot dead
at half-past 1:00
this afternoon in Johannesburg.

Shot dead by whom?

Suspected by a native
house breaker.

-Sorry to bring
this news to you.
-Oh, my God.

Oh.

Oh.

You didn't tell
my wife, did you?

CAPTAIN JAARSVELD:
No, Mr. Jarvis.

She isn't strong.

If you were to catch the train,
you should leave at 6:00.

Or if you wish,
you could take a plane.

There's one waiting
in Pietermaritzburg.

But we must
let them know by 4:00.

Yes, yes.

You know I can't think.

I can understand that.

Which would be better?

I think the plane, Mr. Jarvis.

We'll take it.

I must let them know, sir.I'll telephone as soon as
we get to the house.

Can you stand up, Mr. Jarvis?

I... I don t want to help you.

Your wife is watching us.

She's wondering, Captain.

Even at this distance,
she knows something is wrong.

My God, I don't know
how she will stand it.

JAMES: Shot dead.

Shot dead.

He was our only child.

CAPTAIN JAARSVELD:
I know that, Mr. Jarvis.

James, what's the matter?

Some trouble, my dear.

Captain, if you want
to use the telephone...

Come with me, dear.

This is the police.

I want police
in Pietermaritzburg.

Yes. Very urgent.

MARGARET: No! No, no, no!

Police Pietermaritzburg,
this is the police Ixopo.

Yes. Police Ixopo.

We want that airplane
to Johannesburg.

Yes, that's right.
The airplane to Johannesburg.

And that is where I was born.

-Right there.
-Hmm. I always said that
it was the finest country
in all the world. I have one or two questions
to ask about this country.

Well, go ahead, Thomas.

Firstly, have you lions there?

[MEN CHUCKLING]

Secondly, have you
crocodiles there?

[MEN LAUGHING]

Thirdly, have you any
Victoria Falls in this country?

[MEN LAUGHING]

Really, Thomas,
you're a barbarian.

[MEN LAUGHING]

Arthur Jarvis?

Arthur Jarvis.

Yes, Arthur Jarvis.

What is it?

Murder?

By one of our own people.

Arthur Jarvis?

Perhaps you knew him.

The only child of James Jarvis,

of High Place, Carisbrooke.

I did not know the son.

But I knew the father.

I mean, I knew him by sight,

name, but we have never spoken.

Sometimes he rode
past my church,

but I did not know the son.

Yet...

I remember...

there was a small, bright boy.

I remember.

Oh, I do not remember well.

A small, bright boy.

-Mr. Kumalo.
-I...

I think I should go to my room.

Good night.

It is foolish to fear this
one thing in this great city,

with its thousands
and thousands of people.

It's not a question of

wisdom and foolishness,

it's just fear.

-Fear.
-My brother...

Come and pray.

There's no prayer left in me.

Why this man?

Why not another man?

Why does it happen?

And why is allowed to happen?

I'm a man for peace.

Peace between White and Black.

Then this comes like a sword.

In between you and me.

Well, Martens,
aren't you going home?

Good evening, sir.

Yes, I'm going home.
I was just working.

You weren't working.

What's the matter? Arthur Jarvis?

Yes, sir.

Come on, out with it. Well, sir, that boy
Absalom Kumalo has disappeared.

My God. You are being foolish.

I can't help it, sir. When one
of these things happens, I...

I think, could have been
this one, or that one.

Weren't there three of them?

Yes, so I think,
who is the second?

Who is the third?

I know how you feel.

I went through it all myself,
but it's foolish. You know, I must have
feared it 100 times.

And not once
did it happen to me.

I imagine them saying

we let him go too soon.

I let him go, not you. It was my advice, sir.

Of course, if it were
a white boy,

it wouldn't matter so much.

But it wasn't a white boy.

Come on, it's time
for you to go home.

Would you like a change?

I could use you somewhere else.

No, sir.

I stick to this job.

[AIRPLANE WHIRRING]

[PLANE DOOR OPENS]

-Mother.
-[CRYING]

Hello, Jarvis.

Margaret, I can't say anything.

I know how you feel.

Jarvis, you remember John?

Yes, he was
Arthur's best friend.

He was the finest man
I ever knew, sir.

And this is Major Retief.

MAJOR RETIEF: My sympathy, sir.
My sympathy, madam.

Come, darlings.

The truth is, we are all
scared stiff at the moment
in Johannesburg.

Mmm. What's that, Harrison?

I said we were all scared stiff
at the moment in Johannesburg. Scared of what?

This black crime,
these robberies

and brutal attacks,
often by young boys.

Arthur used to say
we were in some way responsible.

Not to say I always
followed him,

but you had to listen to him.

He was, you know, sincere.

He was right, too.He said they were
a lost generation.

That's why
he started a boys' club.

Oh, I'm not against boys' clubs.

But our courts
are too lenient, Jarvis.

When a man kills,
well, he must be killed.

By God, I hope they catch them
and string them all up.

James?

I thought you'd never come.

I'm sorry, dear.

I'm being foolish.

What have you been doing?

Talking.

About the boy.

About what he did,

or what he tried to do.

Look.

The English people, Afrikaans,
natives, all kinds of people.

"The Bantu Boys Club, Orlando.

"Dear, Mr. Jarvis,

"how this club would be arranged
without your participation

"would be a mystery
to many minds amongst us.

"It is on these counts,

"that we decide to elect you
again to be president.

"I am asking an apology
for this writing paper,

"but our club
writing paper is lost

"owing to unforeseen
circumstances.

"I am your obedient servant,

"Washington Lafefe."

You understood it?

Yes, James.

I didn't understand it.

I didn't know
it would ever be so important.

[DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING]

Where did you get this?

It was given to me
by someone who could not pay.

Her dad.

Don't lose it. I might want
to see it again.

-Come on, you're comin' with me.
-Yes, Sarge.

African police.
It's the African police.

Miss Ndela.

Umfundisi, the police
have been to me. -What did they want?
-The boy.

I gave him the address.

-Did I do wrong?
-You did no wrong.

What else did they say?

They spoke among
themselves, umfundisi. But I could see that
they know this woman.

Go well, mother, with my thanks.

[DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYING]

Is Mrs. Lithebe with you?

MSIMANGU: Yes.

-There's news?
-The police,
asking after the boy.

-Why do they want the boy?
-We do not know.

You were going alone?

I was going alone.

Now you may come.

No one must pay but me.

Here's my money.

We shall use it then.

Come, let us go.

What did the police find?

Nothing.

-Where have they gone?
-How should I know?

Look, I've got
no time for playing.
Where did they go?

MAN: Reformatory, umfundisi.

[TIRES SCREECH]

Where did they go?

To the home of the girl.

Pimville.

WOMAN: You young girls of today
will take young men.

You do not know his home
or his people.

Then he goes off,
leaves you with the child.

It is not only the young girls.

Look at me.

[CAR HONKS]

Umfundisi, the police
have been here.

They're looking for Absalom.

Why did they want him?

I do not know.

Why did you not ask?

-I was afraid.
-Did no one ask?

The women asked.

MSIMANGU: Which one of you
spoke to the police?

I spoke to them, umfundisi.

And why did they want the boy?

They would not say.

Did they say
where they would go?

They did not say.

What is the trouble, umfundisi?

We do not know.

The world is full of trouble.

So, you've come, too?

Read it.

It's worth reading.

PRIEST: We remember him
with grief and sorrow.

But our sorrow must be
lifted up by thanks
that he was given to us.

And indeed by pride
that he belonged to us.

God forbid that this death

and the terrible manner of it
should still further divide us.

A man that is born of a woman

has but a short time to live
and is full of misery.

He cometh up,
and is cut down like a flower.

He fleeth as it were a shadow

and never continueth
in one state.

We want you to know.

Thank you.

-There are many of us.
-Thank you.

-Many.
-Thank you.

Many.

WOMAN 1: We will never forget.

WOMAN 2: Something of us.

WOMAN 3: We do not forget.

Hey. Your son was a good man.

You're trembling, my friend.

I'm cold. Very cold.

We'll have a fire
and make you warm again.

I have heard what you feared.

It is true.

How do you know?

Absalom gave himself up.

When we got back
to the police station,
he was waiting for us.

This'll be bad
for the reformatory.

There's one thing.

The other two boys
were not reformatory boys.

It was he who fired the shot.

One of the two others
is the son of his brother.

So we see you again, my brother.

Sit down, sit down.

Give me just a moment.

And the prodigal son,
did you find him?

Yes, my brother, my son,

and yours also.

Where is he?

Prison, arrested.

Arrested?

What for?STEPHEN: Murder.

Murder?

-What murder?
-Of a white man.

A white man?

Not the man Jarvis in Parkwold.

Yes.

I am sorry, my brother.

You mean...

You mean...

STEPHEN: Your son
was there also.

My God.

My God.

[MEN SINGING INDISTINCTLY]

[JINGLING]

[RATTLING]

STEPHEN: At last
I have found you.

But it is too late.

Is it not too late?

Why did you do
this terrible thing, my child?

Answer me.

I do not know.

They have no doubt it was you?

-I told them, Papa.
-What did you tell them?

I told them I was fighting
when the white man came,
so I shot him.

Did you tell them

of these other two
who were with you?

I told them they came with me.

It was I who shot the white man.

Did you go there to steal?

You were at the reformatory,
my son.

I was.

Did they treat you well?

They treated me well.

And this is your repayment?

Well, Absalom...

Sir.

Why did you leave
the work that I got for you?

Why did you leave it, Absalom?

And your girl,
the one we let you go to,

the girl you worried over
so that we took pity on you...

So the world goes.

Answer me one thing, my son.

Will you answer me?

I can answer, my father. You wrote nothing,
sent no message.

You stole and broke in.

Yes, you did these things.

But why, my son?

Why?

It was bad companions.

Yes, I understand.

But you yourself,

what made you yourself do it?

It was the devil.

Why did you not fight
against the devil?

Were you not taught
to fight against him?

Does he still wish
to marry the girl?

Do you wish to marry
this girl, my son?

I can marry her.

I shall see what I can do.

I think it is time for us to go.

May we come again?

Yes, you may come again.
We shall ask for the hours
at the gate.

Think you may
write letters here?

But do not write to your mother
until I see you again.

I must first write to her.

As my father says.

Brother, we must go at once
and see a lawyer.

A lawyer, my brother?

For what should we spend
such money?

Story's plain.
There can be
no doubt about it.

What is the story?

The story?

These three boys went to a place
that they thought was empty.

They struck down the servant,

and the white man heard
the noise and came down
to see, and then...

And my son,

mine not yours,

shot him.

He was afraid, he says.

Has he told you this
in front of the others?

Why not if it is the truth?

Perhaps you do not
need a lawyer.

If he admits
shooting the white man,
there's nothing more to be said.

Will you have a lawyer, then?

Perhaps.

You see, my brother,
there is no proof that my son

or this other young man
was there at all.

Not there at all?

-But my son...
-Yes, yes.

But who would believe your son?

Do you think
I should have a lawyer?

It's not my work to get lawyers.

But if you want to go back
to Sophiatown, I shall take you.

[ENGINE SPUTTERS]

It's not my work to get lawyers.

It's my work to help,
to reform, to uplift.

It's wonderful work,
wonderful work, noble work.

You must not think
a parson's work's nobler.

You save souls.

I save souls too.
What good is it?

You will see them
come into the world
and you will see them go out

You saw your son
come into the world.

You will see him
go out of it, too.

[ENGINE STARTS]

Are you coming to Sophiatown
or are you not?

You're a clever man.

And thank God
you're not my brother.[ENGINE REVVING]

Msimangu said to me,
"Why fear this one thing

"in a city where
there are thousands
upon thousands of people?"

It comforted me.

It comforted me.

If only one could have been told
that this step is taken,

and this step
is about to be taken...

If only one could
have been told that.

But others saw it,
to whom it did not matter.

They saw it step by step.

They said,
"This is Johannesburg,

"and this is a boy going wrong

"as other boys have
gone wrong in Johannesburg."

But to us, for whom
it meant life and death,

it was not revealed.

There's a man

sleeping in the grass,

above him is gathering
the greatest storm
of all his days.

Such thunder and lightning
should come there that's
never been seen before.

People hurry home past him
to places safe from danger.

And whether they do not
see him there,

or whether they fear
to halt for only a moment,

they do not wake him.

They let him be.

Drink your tea.

It'll soon be cold.

My friend,
when a storm threatens,

and a man is afraid
for his house,

there is nothing that he can do.

But when the house is destroyed,
he can rebuild. At my age?

Look at the house I built
when I was young and strong.

What kind of house
shall I build now?

No one can comprehend
the ways of God.

It seems God has turned from me.

That may seem to happen,
but it does not happen.

Never, never does it happen.

I'm glad to hear you.

And because you are a priest,

the amendment of your son's life
must matter to you more
than all else.

It is true.

But I cannot see how
such a life can be amended.

You cannot doubt that.

There was a thief
upon the cross.

My son was not a thief.

There was a white man
devoted to our people.

And his wife and children
were bereaved because of my son.

I cannot suppose it to
be less than the greatest
evil I have known.

A man may repent him
of any evil.

He would repent.

If I say to him,
"Do you repent?",

he will say,
"It is as my father says."

If I say to him,

"Was it not evil?",

he will say, "It is evil."

But if I speak otherwise,
putting no words into his mouth,

if I say to him,
"What will you do now?"

He would say, "I do not know."

Or he will say,
"It is as my father says."

He is a stranger!
I cannot touch him!

He weeps only for himself,

not for his wickedness,
but for his danger.

Can a person lose
all sense of evil?

A boy, brought up
as he was brought up?

I see only his pity for himself,

he who has made
two children fatherless.

"I tell you, whosoever offends
one of these little ones,
it were better that..."

FATHER VINCENT: Stop!
You're beside yourself.

Go and pray.

Go and rest.

And do not judge your son
too quickly.

He is shocked
into silence maybe.

That is why he says to you,
"It is as my father wishes."

And, "Yes, that is so,
and I do not know."

I trust that is so.

But I have no hope anymore.

What did you say I must do?

Yes, pray, and rest.

Sit down.

I must speak to you as a priest.

Yes, I said pray and rest.

Even if it is
only words that you pray,

and even if your resting is
only lying on a bed.

And do not pray for yourself.

And do not pray
to understand the ways of God,
for they are secret.

Who knows what life is?

For life is a secret.

And why you have
compassion for a girl

when you yourself
find no compassion?
That is a secret.

And why you go on,
when it would seem
better to die?

That is a secret.

Do not pray and think
about these things now,
there'll be other times.

Pray for Gertrude
and for her child.

And for the girl
that is to be your son's wife,

and for the child
that will be
your grandchild.

Pray for
the woman and children
that are bereaved.

Pray for all white people,

those who do justice,

and those who would do justice
if they were not afraid.

And do not fear to pray
for your son,

and for his amendment.

I hear you.

There's someone to see you.

When you've finished,
you'll find me in my room...

No, no, please don't go.

Umfundisi.

Sir.

I'm sorry that I spoke
such angry words.

[CLEARS THROAT] I've come
to speak to you about
the matter of the lawyer.

Sir.

Umfundisi, I know how it is.
Will you not sit down?

When my work goes wrong,
I hurt myself,

and I hurt others also.

And then I grow ashamed,

and that's why I'm here.

Do you understand?

I understand.

I understand completely.

As for the lawyer,
I know just the man.

I'm ready to help you,
wherever my help is needed.

[CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY]

I've heard nothing
from him, umfundisi.

What I have to say is heavy.

You'll hear nothing now.

-He's in prison.
-In prison?

In prison for the most
terrible deed a man can do.

He has killed a white man.

Oh!

Can you read, my child?

The white people's newspaper?

A little.

I will leave it with you.

But do not show it to others.

Shame is enough.

I shall not show it
to others, umfundisi.

Do you wish to marry my son?

It is as the umfundisi sees it.

I'm asking you, my child.

I can be willing.

I do not wish to take you
if you're not willing.

I am willing.

How did you live

after you ran away
from your mother?

Did you live alone?

No, not alone.

With your first husband?

Yes.

How many have there been?

Only three.

What happened to the first?

He was caught, umfundisi.

-And the second?
-He was caught also.

Now the third is caught also.

But now it is for murder.

Have you had a murderer before?

No! No!

Will you take a fourth husband?

No. I want no husband anymore.

Not even if I desired you?

-You?
-Yes, I.

No, it would not be right.

Was that right before?

No, it was not right.

Then would you be willing?

I could be willing.

[SOBBING]

[CONTINUES SOBBING]

I'm sorry, my child.

I should not have asked
such a question.

GIRL: I did not know
what to say.

I knew you would not know.

Tell me.

Do you truly wish
to marry my son?

I wish it.

-Greatly?
-Greatly.

I must say one more
hard thing to you.

GIRL: I am listening, umfundisi.

We live in a quiet place.

What would you do
in such a place when
desire is upon you?

You need not be afraid for me.

Quietness is what I desire.

I understand you.

I want one promise from you.

GIRL: Yes, umfundisi?

If you should ever
repent of this plan,

do not shut it up inside you

or run away
as you did from your mother.

Will you promise to tell me
that you have repented.
I promise. I shall never repent.

You must not live here.

Shall I find a place
for you near me?

I would wish that, umfundisi.
Let it be soon.

Stay well, my child.

LAWYER: But these two say
that they were not there.

They're lying.

But you've heard others say
that they were not there. ABSALOM: They're lying also.

But the woman, Mkize,
says that they were with her.

She's lying also.

Was this revolver loaded
when you bought it?

There were two bullets in it.

How many bullets were in it
when you went to this house? ABSALOM: There was
one bullet in it.

What happened to the other?

I fired in a plantation
beyond Alexandra.

What did you fire at?

-ABSALOM: The tree.
-Did you hit this tree?

Yes, I hit it.

Then you thought, "Now,
I can fire this revolver." Yes, that is what I thought.

And you thought,
"Now, I can kill a man."

ABSALOM: No! No,
I did not want to
kill a man.

-I did not mean to kill him.
-But you did kill him.

Yes, I killed him.

Is the master here?

In the study, Madam.

[DOOR CLOSES]

MARGARET: James.

Yes, dear?This can't go on, James.
Every day, every day.

What can't go on?

This reading, thinking...

Suffering.

My dear, I wasn't suffering.

It was only my pride suffering.

I'm learning
from a hard master.

Was it something
he wrote, James?

Got me on the raw.

You know, my tongue's stubborn.

Shall I show you?

-Mmm.
-Come on, dear.

[PEOPLE CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY]

[MAN AND WOMAN LAUGHING]

[DOOR SLAMS]

Your child here, you there
laughing like an empty woman.

I shall be glad
to leave Johannesburg.

I do not know
what to do in this place.

It's not only this place.

You can find it
in any place.

It is the place.
I shall be glad to be gone.

I was listening to
the Black sisters

and now, I have a feeling
to become a nun.

Oh, that is a hard thing.

I've not yet decided.

But if I did, would you
care for my child?

Indeed, I would care for him.

As though he were your own?

Indeed so.
As though he were my own.

JAMES: What do you
want, umfundisi?

Are you well, umfundisi?

Are you well, umfundisi?

Do you want water or food?

Are you hungry?

No, umnumzana.

I... I shall recover.

[CANE CLATTERS]

Thank you, umnumzana.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry
to detain you, umnumzana.

It's no matter.

Yes, this is the place.

Umnumzana,

there's a man named Sibeko
from Ndotsheni.

This man had a daughter,
who worked for a white man,

-uSmith of Ixopo.
-Yes, yes.

When the daughter
of uSmith married,
she came to Springs

-and Sibeko's daughter
came with her.
-Yes.

Now, Sibeko,
has not heard of his daughter

these last nine to 12 months.

Oh. I shall inquire.

I know you, umfundisi.

There is something
between you and me, umfundisi,

but I do not know what it is.

I do not know,
but I desire to know.

You need not be in fear of me.

I doubt if I could tell,
umnumzana.

You must tell it, umfundisi.

Is it heavy?

It is the heaviest thing
of all my years.

Tell it then.

It may lighten you.

I'm afraid.

I see you're afraid.

If it is my anger
of which you're afraid,
you need not be afraid.

There will be no anger
in me against you.

Anger.

This thing that is
the heaviest thing
of all my years,

is the heaviest thing
of all yours also.

You can mean only thing.

It was my son

that killed your son.

JAMES: I have heard you.
I understand.

There is no anger in me.

You had no thought that
I'll be here at the house of
the daughter of uSmith.

How did you know me?

I've seen you riding past
in Ndotsheni,

past the church where I work.

JAMES: Then, perhaps,
you saw the boy also.

He too used to
ride past in Ndotsheni.

You remember?

I remember.

There was a brightness in him.

JAMES: Yes, there was
a brightness in him.

Umnumzana,

it is a hard word to say.

My heart holds deep sorrow
for you, for the mistress,

and for the young woman
and for the children.

JAMES: Yes, yes.

Yes, yes. I shall call
the mistress of the house.

Barbara, there's an old man
inquiring about the daughter
of Sibeko...

[CONTINUES INDISTINCTLY]

[BARBARA SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY]

She says, umfundisi,
she does not know.

Thank you, umnumzana.

-Stay well, umnumzana.
-Go well, umfundisi.

Stay well, umnumzana.

Go well, umfundisi. Go well.

Why are you so disturbed, James?

Why were you so disturbed
when you came into the house?

Something that came
out of the past.

You know
how it comes... suddenly?

I know.

Barbara wants us for lunch.

After long
and earnest consideration,

after testing
and retesting the evidence,

I find that the guilt
of accused numbers two and three,
is not established.

Therefore, I find you
Matthew Kumalo, not guilty,

and you're
accordingly discharged.

You gave your evidence
like a man.

And I find you,
Johannes Pafuri,
not guilty

and you are
accordingly discharged.

I find you Absalom Kumalo

guilty of the murder
of Arthur Trevelyan Jarvis

at his residence in Parkwoldon the afternoon
of the 8th day of October.

Have you anything to say
before I pronounce sentence?

I killed this man.

I did not mean to kill him.

Only I was afraid.

Silence!

I sentence you,
Absalom Kumalo,
to be returned to custody,

and to be hanged by the neck
until you are dead.

-[GASPS]
-God!

And may the Lord
have mercy upon your soul.

[CRIES]

[SOBBING]

OFFICIAL: Silence in the court!

Thank you, my friend.

-Congratulations.
-Thank you, my friend.

My friend, I congratulate you.

Thank you, my friend.
It was justice.

Justice? Is that what
I heard you say?

There was a case
and a judge.

Such a thing is not for you,
or me, or any other person.

Keep your word in your mouth.

And when you open it again
in your great meetings,

with your great bull voice,

spare us your talk
of truth and justice.

Where can I wash my hand?

Come. Let us go.

Yes. Let us go.

One thing I wanted to say
about the sentence,

you can't bring the dead back,

but it was right.
Absolutely right.

I'm only sorry
the other two got off.

The Crown made a mess
of the case.They should have
hammered that woman, Mkize.

Yes, I felt that way too.

-Well, good-bye, Harrison.
-Good-bye, Jarvis.

-Good-bye, John.
-Good-bye.

Oh, John, this is for you.

No, read it when I'm gone.

Thank you again, Harrison.

It was nothing.

[PEOPLE CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY]

One thousand pounds!

Helen of Troy, £1,000!

-In the name of the Father,
-In the name of the Father,

-and of the Son,
-and of the Son,

-and of the Holy Ghost.
-and of the Holy Ghost.

-Amen.
-Amen.

Now, kneel down.

Join your hands together.

Those whom God
hath joined together,

let no man put asunder.

I pronounce that they be
man and wife together.

In the name of the Father,
and of the Son,

and of the Holy Ghost.

Amen.

I'm glad you're married, my son.

I also am glad, my father.

I shall care
for your child, my son, even as if it were my own.

When does my father
return to Ndotsheni?

-Tomorrow, my son.
-Tomorrow?

Yes, tomorrow.

And you will tell my mother
that I remember her?

-And my father...
-Yes, my son?

I have money
in the post office book,

nearly four pounds is there.

It is for the child.

They will give it
to my father at the office.

I have arranged for it.

-And my father...
-Yes, my son?

If the child is a son,
should like his name
to be Peter.

-Peter?
-Yes, I should like it
to be Peter.

And if it is a daughter?

Oh. If it is a daughter,

I've not thought of any name.

If I were back in Ndotsheni,
I should not leave it again.

Be of courage, my son.

[CRYING]

I'm afraid of the hanging,

I'm afraid of the hanging.

Old man, you must go now.

I am going, sir.

I am going, sir,
but give us
a little time longer.

Well, only a little time longer.

ABSALOM: I'm afraid
of the hanging.

[CRYING]

Son, dry your tears.

I must go now, my son.

[CRYING]

My son, I must go now.

[ABSALOM CONTINUES CRYING]

You mustn't leave me,
you mustn't leave me.

No. No. No. No, you must not leave me.

[CRYING] You must not leave me.

[THUNDER RUMBLING]

-It's coming at last, James.
-I hope so, Frank.

-How's Margaret today?
-She's not well, Frank.

And yet, the old parson's
allowed to come back here.

Yes, I know
the bishop's moving him.

Why was he allowed
to come back at all?

When every man, woman,
and child in the countryside
knows what happened.

It's insult to injury.

-It was our injury, Frank.
-It wasn't your injury.

It was an injury to us all.

If that wasn't enough,
he brings back this girl,
his son's wife.

She's going to have a child.

-Why? So that murder can go on?
-How can you say that, Frank?

You know the kind of man
they've gone to?

I haven't had that pleasure,

-but I know the kind of scum
he's produced already.
-Frank!

-I can't listen to you, Frank.
-I'm not quite finished.

Barbara says you gave
£1,000 to some
black boys' club.

Spend half your time
down in Ndotsheni.

I hear your grandson
is always down there, too.

I hear you're going to build
a Black paradise.

Do you remember what
you yourself used to say
about Ndotsheni?

JAMES: I remember.

You and Margaret lose your son.

You go to Johannesburg
and you go through

the whole damnable business
and then you come back
and pay out.

You know what it looks like?

A kind of conscience money.

Well, I wouldn't have put it
like that, but I'll accept it.

What gave you the idea?

-My son.
-Arthur?

Yes.

You mean...
after he was dead?

Yes.

My God!

You see, Frank, I never
understood the boy,

and when this happened,

I thought I would
never understand.

Then... I did.

They say I'm going crazy.

Yes, they do.

Is that what you think, Frank?

James, I'll go.

[THUNDER RUMBLING]

Mary.

Open the window.

Call Dr. Jameson.

Grace, where's the master?

Father! Father!

James!

James!

Yes, Mother?

-Where's Grandpa?
-What's the matter?-Where's Grandpa, James?
-I don't know.

[THUNDER RUMBLING]

MARY: Yes, Doctor!
Very, very hot.

I did everything you said.

-[RAIN PATTERING]
-[BIRDS CHIRPING]

[THUNDER RUMBLING]

Am I too late?

[SOBBING]

[SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY]

[THUNDER RUMBLING]

[RAIN PATTERING]

Where is the umfundisi?

He's there, in the church.

[THUNDER RUMBLING]

Umfundisi, she's dead.

Not one of us must be left.

Why, my wife,

my sister's child,
my daughter-in-law.

Even the child that is coming.

How else could it be?

My son killed his son.

Now, he's killed
the mother also.

Umfundisi...

-perhaps I could speak to you.
-Yes?

I know this man.

He goes where he goes
and no man can turn him.

Who sent the milk to you?

Who was here today
in your church?

You're right.

You're right.

Do you know what he asked?

"Is there mercy?"

If only I could go there,

but the white people
would be there
standing about the house.

Who would ask,
"What you want, old man?"

Who would think that
this old man also

wishes to stand about the house?

It is not the custom.

You could write a letter.

You could make flowers
the way the white people do.

-Flowers?
-They use
white flowers, umfundisi.

Arum lilies.

I know where they grow.

Umfundisi!

Your flowers were
of great beauty.

Umnumzana.

There is one thing
you should know.

My wife was already suffering
when we went to Johannesburg.

It was one of
her last wishes

that a new church
be built in Ndotsheni.

I have seen the bishop
and you are not to go away.

How could you go?

For what did my son die
if you were to go away?

This is the night.

-Yes.
-When would it be?

When the sun rises.

One thing is
about to be finished.

But here is something
that has only begun.

And while I live,
it will continue.

Umnumzana!

Do not go
before I have thanked you.

For all the things
you have done. For...

I knew a man
who was in darkness
till you found him.

Of all the white men
I have ever known...

I am no saintly man.

Of that I cannot speak,
but God put His hands on you.

That may be.

That may be.

Umfundisi, go well.
This night, stay well.

Go well, go well.

[PEOPLE SINGING INDISTINCTLY]

Absalom.