can goes to his desk and starts typing. The sound of the typewriter is taken over by the sounds of bulldozers and the violent crushing of bricks. The entire scene lasts for about a minute.

CAN: The nausea of despair rises up in me as I step gingerly over the rubble of our Sof ‘ town. I am haunted by the dead eyes with which some of these ghost houses stare back at me.

Where Thirty-Nine Steps used to be now lies a grotesque structure of torn and naked red bricks. The bulldozed houses of my people trespass on my dreams, invade my thoughts and engulf my entire being. I see the horrific images even with my eyes tightly shut. I can't even sleep at night.

Strijdom has crushed the House of Truth. The people's life stories have been reduced to a heap of rubble. Beneath it lie their dreams and aspirations. But the will of the people will prevail. For no house is ever built on lies. It will crumble and disintegrate within no time. In another day, in another time, we will emerge to reclaim our dignity and our land. The House of Truth will rise again!

They want to rewrite the story of South Africa. They are trying to kill the truth, forgetting that it is entrenched in our collective memory. They can destroy the evidence, but they cannot destroy a people's experience.

Years might come and go, epochs might begin and end, emperors might rise and fall, but the truth will remain the same. They can delude themselves, create a different account of events in their minds, but the same minds will betray them. Truth knows its enemy. It lurks over the falsifier's head like flies over a dead carcass.

In happier times, we philosophised about those African intellectuals who leave the country just when they are needed the most. I made it clear that the last thing I want is to go into exile. I regard exile as the ultimate assault on the human soul. But right now I don't see myself being part of this bigoted society.