can moves downstage centre, sits down on a chair near the coffee table and lights a cigarette.

CAN: I set out to investigate a story for Drum the other day. I visited churches frequented by white people to see if they would let me in. A few allowed me in even though you could see that my presence came as something of a shock to most of the congregants, some of whom responded with undisguised contempt. Many others chased me away like I was the devil incarnate!

At the Dutch Reformed Church in Langlaagte, I was stopped by an usher who said to me, ‘This is a church for whites only!’ ‘Do they worship a different God from that worshipped by blacks?’ I asked. He consulted with the church elders, and later a deacon came to allocate me a seat.

I was hoping to have a sip of Jesus’ blood to see if it wouldn't rid me of my hangover. When the collection saucers came, I dug into my pocket and fished out a few coins. I raised my hand, ready to contribute my precious coins, but the church official passed me by. And then came Major Spengler and his henchmen from the Special Branch. They called me aside and asked me if I was a member of the ANC. Despite my objections, they took me to a waiting car, and started interrogating me about my business there. Church members came one by one to look at me as if I was a captured monkey in a cage. One old Afrikaner woman bent down on her arthritic knees to scrutinise my face and screamed, ‘Jou Satan!’

The following Saturday, I went to the Seventh Day Adventist Church with our photographer, Peter Magubane. As I walked up the stairs, a hefty man yanked me off my feet and rushed me down the stairs. Assisted by two others, they twisted my arm behind my back and bundled me over to a car.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of Peter in full flight, with members of the church in hot pursuit. I was driven to Marshall Square Police Station and charged with trespassing. I wondered if God himself didn't want me there.