The Power of One (1992) Movie Script

I was born with the songs

of Zulu Rainmakers in my ears.

They sang to end

the great drought

which burned the land

of South Africa

for 10 years.

Aah!

My mother gave birth to me

3 weeks after my father died.

He was trampled to death

by a bull elephant

in the bush.

She gave me his name...

Peter Phillip Kenneth Keith...

but from the first day,

she called me

by my initials, P.K.,

just as she

had called my father.

Ohh.

"And start again

in your beginnings,

"and never breathe a word

about your loss.

"You can force your heart

and nerve and sinew

"to serve your turn

long after they are gone,

"and so, hold on when

there is nothing in you

"except the will which says to them,

hold on."

I remember my mother telling me

that she was a child of England,

where she grew up

with books and music,

but I was a child of Africa

and woke to the smell

of jacaranda blossoms

and fell asleep to the sound

of the weaver-birds

nesting for the night.

"You'll be a man, my son."

Nanny's son Tonderai

was my best friend.

From the time we were born,

we did everything together...

games, chores, and lessons.

Mother taught us about England.

Nanny taught us about Africa.

Mother said life was perfect

except it never rained.

Madam! Madam!

Come quickly, come!

It's bad... the cattle!

The cattle are dying!

My father was a farmer.

My mother was not.

Because she loved us so much,

she tried hard to be

one after he died,

but when the plague

killed our cattle,

something inside her broke

and never mended.

Nanny said the doctor insisted

my mother have complete rest.

She said I must go

to boarding school.

For the first time in my life,

I felt afraid.

I'd never been away

from home before,

away from my mother,

away from nanny.

I wanted to cry, but I held it in.

I was afraid it would

hurt my mother even more.

P.K...

Mummy's going to give you

the bracelet daddy gave mummy

when we first fell in love.

I love you, P.K.

She gave me the

ostrich-shell bracelet

my father gave her

when they first fell in love.

Be a good boy, darling.

Bye.

Good-bye.

Be good, P.K.

We were poor.

The only school we could afford

was run by Afrikaners,

the oldest of the two

white tribes in Africa.

The other,

being my people,

the English.

The English drove us

into the wilderness,

but we returned

stronger than before.

They spilled our blood

across the land,

but we returned

stronger than before.

Because this land is ours,

given to us in holy covenant

by almighty God,

it is our responsibility

to rise up and push out the English,

to put down the black,

for the holy scripture tells us...

Joshua 9:20...

"the children of Ham

turned black for their sins.

"They shall be unto the rest,

"hewers of wood

and drawers of water.

They shall be as servants unto you."

It is our responsibility

to redeem that covenant,

to repossess the land,

to be stronger than before!

Let us pray.

I remember my first lesson.

In 1896,

the Afrikaners had

tried to overthrow

the government of the English,

but the English army

was too strong.

The English locked up

26,000 Afrikaner

women and children

into what they called

concentration camps.

Many of them died

from malaria, typhoid,

and Blackwater fever.

As the only English boy at school,

I took the blame

for all those deaths.

And forgive us our trespasses...

This was made clear to me

by the oldest boy at school,

Jaapie Botha.

But deliver us from evil,

for thine is the kingdom,

the power, and the glory

forever and ever.

Amen.

You know what P.K. stands for?

Piss Kop.

Piss Head.

No, it doesn't. It stands for

Peter Phillip Kenneth Keith.

That's my name.

Let's piss on the Piss Kop.

Piss on the Piss Kop.

Let's go.

Piss Kop.

Piss Kop, Piss Kop.

P.K.'s going to love to be pissed on.

Ah, he's ready, aren't you, Rooinek?

We've been saving this

all day for you.

Tasty, eh, Rooinek?

Look up.

Come on. He's had enough.

Don't feel bad, Piss Kop.

We'll give you more tomorrow.

Whether it was

fear or shame or both,

I don't know,

but just after the

bullying in the shower,

I began to wet my bed.

I never should have left.

I should have stayed

to help take care of mother,

then she would have been better.

I know she would have.

Thou shalt show me the path...

Since my only

other living relative,

my grandfather,

was away in the Congo,

it was decided by our solicitor

that I return to boarding school,

a decision which terrified me.

Ashes to ashes,

dust to dust.

Nanny,

Piss Kop.

I confided in nanny

what had happened

and how I'd become

a bed-wetter.

She did what any good

Zulu mother would do.

She called on the greatest

medicine man of her tribe,

a man who nanny said

could make sick men well

and scared men brave.

I had never seen

anyone like him before.

I said a silent prayer

that his magic was

stronger than my trouble.

His name was Dabula Manzi.

Dabula Manzi said

my troubles came from

fear deep in my heart.

He would send me on the journey

to discover courage

and bury my fear.

He drew three circles

of magic powder

on the ground,

placed a chicken in each one.

He said the chicken

who broke out of the circle

was the bravest.

He would be my guide

on the journey

to find my courage.

Dabula Manzi said

the spirit of the great Zulu warriors

lived in me.

I'd faced the most powerful

creature on earth,

a creature I'd feared

since hearing about

how my father died.

I'd earned his respect

for my courage.

There'd be no more problem

with night water.

Dabula Manzi said I was

a man for all Africa,

bound to her by my spirit,

bound to her by my dreams.

He said I was no longer a Piss Kop.

He gave me back my name,

and he let me keep the chicken.

I named my chicken Masibindi.

In Zulu, that means mother courage.

During the day,

she would hunt for bugs outside.

At night, she would

nest above my bed

and keep a sharp eye.

She was my best and only friend.

A month later,

war broke out in Europe.

This caused me more problems

than bed-wetting ever had.

Hitler had vowed

to crush Great Britain

and drive the English

from South Africa.

The Afrikaners waited for that day

with excitement.

I said Dabula Manzi's words

over and over to myself,

trying not to be afraid.

Silence!

Piss Kop,

God has sent Hitler to deliver us

from you English bastards

who stole our country

and killed our people.

Heil Hitler!

All:

Heil Hitler!

We will swear a blood oath.

When Hitler comes,

we will rise up and kill

the Verdomde Rooineks!

We swear allegiance to Adolf Hitler.

Death to all Englishmen

in South Africa.

Heil Hitler!

God bless the fatherland.

Heil Hitler!

For crimes committed

against the Afrikaner people,

I, Jaapie Botha,

the judge and Über Führer,

sentence your Rooinek

Kaffir chicken to death.

Heil Hitler!

No, not my chicken!

Not my chicken!

Now!

No! Not my chicken!

Let my chicken go!

No! No! No!

No!

Heil Hitler!

Silence!

Hang him up.

Hang him up!

You will pay for the deaths

of our grandfathers

and grandmothers.

All English will pay,

and you will be first.

Heil Hitler!

Silence!

In the name of Adolf Hitler

and the fatherland,

I sentence you to die,

Verdomde Rooinek.

All:

Kill him! Kill him!

Ow!

Heil Hitler!

You Dummkopf!

I buried Masibindi

the very next day.

Seemed I was to lose

everyone I'd ever loved

or had ever loved me...

my mother, my chicken,

and now nanny.

Tonderai and nanny

had to return to their family

in Southern Rhodesia.

I knew I'd never see them again.

Loneliness birds seemed

to fly into my heart

and lay large stone eggs.

My whole body hurt with sadness.

My grandfather came

home from the Congo

to his house in Barberton,

where English people lived.

I was sent to live with him.

Children, he said,

were a complete mystery to him.

I did not think

I'd ever feel better again.

I did not know

how to chase the

loneliness birds away.

Then one day,

grandfather sent a friend

of his to see me.

You know, my donkey Beethoven

once told me a remedy

of curing sadness in little boys.

Would you like to try it?

Good. Stand up.

That's a boy.

Here.

On one leg.

Good. Good.

And close your eyes.

Hmm.

Say three times, "Absooloodle."

Absooloodle,

Absooloodle, Absooloodle.

Well, wonderful. Feel better?

No?

Hmm.

I guess it proves one thing, then.

What's that?

Never take advice from a donkey.

No?

Much, much better, yes?

Yes.

Would you like to meet him?

Yes, please.

Let's go.

What... what is your name?

P.K.

Oh, very interesting name.

I will introduce you

to the Beethoven.

That was how I met Doc,

who collected cacti,

played piano,

and showed me how to talk

to his donkey Beethoven.

He likes you very, very much.

So, my old friend, you have

a very bright grandson.

Very bright.

I wish I knew what

to do about it.

His mother, God rest her soul,

was qualified, taught him to read,

taught him to play piano.

Music is such an important part

in a young man's education,

don't you agree?

How could I not?

I'm a musician. Music is my life.

What do you think

of this proposal?

You take P.K. under your wing,

teach him the piano,

and he will be chief assistant

in your cactus garden.

He pays you, you pay him.

With great pleasure.

He reminds me of Eric.

Your grandson.

How old is he now?

He would be 7 now.

Doc was a famous pianist

who gave concerts

all over the world.

While he was in South Africa,

the war broke out.

He couldn't go home.

In Germany, Hitler

killed Doc's whole family

'cause they believed in peace.

Doc's grandson was killed, too.

He was only 7, just like me.

Doc was all alone in the world.

Doc said a person needed

2 things in life...

good health and good education.

He said my health was good,

but my education

needed immediate attention.

Doc showed me Africa.

He made Africa my classroom.

I even learned

how to drive Beethoven.

My lessons began

every day at sunrise.

Doc showed me how to

look at things differently

than I ever had before.

And so, the brain, P.K.,

has 2 functions.

It's the best reference library ever,

which is a good thing to have,

but also from it

comes original thought.

In school, you'll get

all filled up with the facts.

Out here, your brain

will learn where to look,

how to look, and how to think.

Any question you ever have,

the answer you will find in nature

if you know where to look

and how to ask.

And then you will have for yourself

all the brains that have ever been.

One by one,

the loneliness birds flew away

with the stone eggs

they'd laid in my heart.

Doc said there were

so many things to learn

that we couldn't waste

even one second.

Mother used to say the same thing.

Mother would have liked Doc.

Everything in nature is cooperation,

even moonlight.

Without the sun,

the moon would be a dark circle,

but with cooperation...

moonlight.

Ooh, a bit heavy, isn't it?

Oh, that's a big one.

That's a big one. Hmm.

Beautiful.

Hold its roots.

Good.

Hmm, looks like we have visitors.

Yeah.

Maybe we offer them tea, huh?

Maybe a cactus.

Yes, maybe both, huh?

Or breakfast.

Let's unplant one and give it to them.

That's a good idea.

How are you today, captain?

Cup of tea?

Professor Von Vollenstein?

Ja.

By order of his

majesty's government,

for the failure to register

as an alien citizen,

you're hereby remanded

to Barberton prison

for the duration of the war with

Germany, your country of origin.

You will come with me.

It was then I realized

that the Afrikaners

were not the only ones

to hate and fear others.

The English were in for

their fair share as well.

The loneliness birds

began to circle again.

Come on! Come on!

Let's go!

While the English

saw Doc as the enemy,

the Afrikaner prison authorities

saw him as the perfect

example of German culture,

something they admired.

You can put your garden

on that side

and plant all your cactus there.

Every day after school,

my grandfather would

walk me down to the prison

and fetch me home at sundown.

I would bring my bucket

with a cactus wrapped

in a tobacco leaf

to keep it moist.

Take those books away!

Kommandant Van Zyl

brought Doc's piano into the prison

and allowed me unrestricted visits.

Open the door!

Don't drop this bloody piano now!

Whoa!

All right, now turn

it on its side, then.

Damn it!

Come on!

Don't you know how

to move a bloody piano?

I will get this in there for you.

The tobacco leaf,

leave in the bucket.

So, soon is your school evaluation.

Uh-huh.

Mm-hmm.

It was today, actually, wasn't it?

Uh-huh.

Mm-hmm.

What are your marks?

What marks?

Grammar.

Satisfactory.

Mathematics?

Satisfactory.

Science?

Satisfactory.

Geography?

Satisfactory.

Oh, oh, oh, that's a shame.

The P.K. I know is a lot

more than satisfactory.

He's a brain.

In my school,

you get beaten up

if you're a brain.

P.K., to have a brain,

it's not a sin.

To have a brain and not use it,

that is a sin.

Come.

I will introduce you to someone

who will show you

how to use your brain

to keep from getting beaten up.

Who?

It's a very smart man.

Come.

I will introduce you.

I asked Doc

if it was the lieutenant.

He said the lieutenant

would say he's too busy.

That's it.

That's it, man.

Sergeant.

I have the permission to come in.

All right, Professor.

Come on, move!

Keep moving, boys.

Come on.

Keep your left up.

Left jab.

Would it be too much trouble

for my friend P.K.

To learn some boxing?

I'd really like to help, Professor,

but we all very busy preparing

for the inter-prison championships,

both the junior

and the senior divisions.

How about the old man?

All right.

Hey, Kaffir.

Come here.

Yes, Meneer.

Now, listen.

Teach this boy the basics,

and teach him good.

Otherwise I knock

your black head flat.

Yes, Meneer.

Right.

Hello.

So?

You want to be a boxer?

I think I'm too little.

Not to worry, Klein Baas.

Little beat big when little smart.

First with the head...

Then with the heart.

You can remember that?

Yes, sir.

No!

No, Little Baas.

You must never, never call me sir.

Because of the guards?

Yes.

What should I call you?

Piet.

I am Geel Piet.

I am P.K.

So.

When I first met Geel Piet,

he'd spent 40 of his 55 years

in one prison or another.

He told me he'd been

a thief, a con man,

and lots of other things.

Now he was my teacher...

And my friend.

There, now. You see

how it can work?

You see how little beat big?

Can't catch you, can't hit you.

Can't hit you, can't hurt you.

Hmm?

Oh, after only 2 months,

you a wizard.

But when do I get to punch?

Punch?

Oh, man, you not

going to just punch.

You going to combination, eh?

1-2.

Go on. You try.

1-2. Yes. 1-2. 1-2.

Ohh, that's it.

Do we have a boxer here?

Ja, man.

We going to build for you

eight-punch

combination, hmm?

The Geel Piet eight, yo?

Geel Piet eight?

Ja.

Then, by Jove,

you catch fire, hmm?

Come, now. 1-2.

1-2... 1-2...

1-2.

1-2... 1-2...

Oh, very strong.

Good punching. Very strong.

1-2... 1-2...

1-2...

Oh, that's it.

That's good, Little Baas.

Bravo. You look like

a champion already.

1-2... 1-2...

Oh, what a boxer we have here.

I'm going to learn

the Geel Piet eight.

But right now you have to learn

the Beethoven ninth for an hour

so we can get to the cactus

before it's too hot to plant.

Between the two of us,

we'll make from you

a champion...

And a brain.

Your lesson... wonderful.

Ganz wonderful. Thank you.

Oh, excuse me, Meneer Professor.

Ja.

Every time I see the little Baas

bring the cactus,

inside the bucket

is some tobacco leaf.

Yes. It keeps the roots wet.

That's the reason.

So, ja...

Well, you know, Professor...

Little smoke late at night

only little pleasure we

have in this hard life, man.

They make it difficult

to have the tobacco.

Why won't they

let you have tobacco?

Because, P.K.,

when it is a person's job to punish,

it's all they know how to do.

I smell something not right here.

Eh, Kaffir?

No, Meneer Sergeant.

Everything okay.

Aah!

It's enough, sergeant.

That's enough, sergeant.

It's enough!

Here we say what

is enough, Professor,

not you.

If you're up to something.

I'll find out.

This old Kaffir, he okay. He okay.

Everything okay.

Sorry to make trouble.

Sorry, Little Baas.

Now on, we just

stick to the boxing.

Sorry.

Sorry, man.

Geel Piet.

I leave my bucket

on the side of the piano

when I practice.

See it is cleaned out every day.

Yes, Baas. Ja.

Nice, P.K. Nice.

I don't like that Schwinn none, either.

Ja, ah Ist Ein Schwinn.

Let's go.

Okay, Doc.

To survive in prison,

Geel Piet became an expert

in camouflage...

A master of the invisible.

His goal was to draw

as little attention to himself

while getting exactly what he

and his fellow prisoners needed.

Ja, ja.

Good.

Good, Little Baas.

Faster.

Ja, ja.

5 years passed before I knew it,

and while outside the prison,

everyone waited anxiously

for the end of world war ii,

inside, everyone was concerned

with just one thing...

the outcome of the inter-prison

boxing championships.

That's great!

And under Geel Piet's

constant tutelage,

I became champion

in my weight class.

Very good, Little Baas.

Doc's garden grew

as he planted and fertilized the cacti

I continued to bring him,

setting aside the

tobacco for Geel Piet

and the other prisoners.

I also became the

unofficial letter writer

at Geel Piet's suggestion.

Ja, man...

You really have the gift

of the language, you know.

That song about the Rainmaker...

why are they always

singing it around me?

Guard: All right, then.

Time's up. Move it!

All the tribes believe, Little Baas,

that when there is drought,

it is because...

The people are in conflict.

Inyanga ye Zulu, the Rainmaker...

Cools things down...

the earth, the sky...

The people.

He... he stops the conflict.

He brings the rain.

He brings the peace, man.

Okay, fine.

But what does it

got to do with me?

Well, Klein Baas,

you like inyanga ye Zulu.

You cool things down, man.

You write the letters

for all the tribes,

you bring the tobacco

for all the tribes.

Naturally, they think

maybe you are the one

from the myth.

They sing to honor you.

Did you have anything

to do with this?

I... I...

Say to a few people

how you... treat all the tribes equally,

how you not show favoritism

for one tribe over another,

how you cool things down,

something like that.

Why?

Well, Little Baas,

a little hope never hurt no one.

Ja, but it's false hope.

Better than no hope at all.

Time for Beethoven, P.K.

Ah, thank you, Professor.

It's my pleasure.

You and the men,

enjoy the tobacco.

See you tomorrow... Rainmaker.

Empty the bucket, Kaffir.

Yes, Baas.

You are a bunch of shit-eaters,

aren't you, Kaffir?

No, Baas.

What you say?

Yes, Baas.

Bloody right.

Now, get eating.

Eat it.

You can't hide from me

forever, Kaffir.

Your day will come,

and it'll be as black

as your bloody soul,

I promise you.

You all right?

Not to worry, Little Baas.

In the trunk, we eat

shit every day.

All of us.

If the sergeant

had found the tobacco,

all the prisoners would've

been beaten severely.

And so the other prisoners

sang to honor

Geel Piet's courage.

But it still broke my heart

to see a man I loved

so degraded.

And it also made me angry...

Angry that it was done...

Angry that I couldn't

do anything to change it.

They sang into the night,

knowing full well they'd

be locked in their cells

for 3 days with no water.

They sang to honor

Geel Piet's dignity.

Dance. Dance. Dance.

Dance.

Down.

They...

They look confused.

They are confused, Little Baas.

They are confused.

They are afraid.

They are cowards.

Come.

Let us get these towels

to the laundry.

P.K.! P.K.!

Good news!

The Americans

have crossed the Rhine.

The war... the war

is almost over!

That's brilliant.

Quick. Let me see.

Isn't it wonderful?

You will be free, Professor.

At last I go home to Germany.

Ja!

Go home to Germany?

Yes, I go home to Germany!

Isn't that wonderful, Little Baas?

Huh?

I suppose so.

Eh?

But he doesn't think

it's so wonderful, eh?

If you go back to Germany,

I'll never see you again.

I don't think

that's so wonderful.

Ja, you're right.

It's not.

Sometimes we must try to take...

To take what's not wonderful

and make it so.

Ah, Professor.

I just heard the news.

Ja. Here. We were

just discussing it.

Professor, we are

going to miss you.

Thank you.

Hey...

Professor,

I wonder if I can

ask you a favor.

At the end of this month,

the commissioner

is paying his yearly visit.

Can you organize a concert

in his honor?

A concert here?

Here.

A concert? A c...

ja, I... I will

arrange something

for the commissioner.

You're a good man, Professor.

Thank you very much.

Ja, we are going to

miss you, eh?

Why do you want a concert

for these people?

No, Professor, not for them.

For us, man. Yes.

You can write the music.

Little Baas here

can write the words.

And the people's voices,

Professor...

The people's voices

can be your instruments, eh?

Ja.

They'll never guess

who it's for.

He's a genius.

The tribes don't even

talk to each other.

To sing together...

it will never happen.

It will if the Little Baas say so.

Remember the myth.

You mean the one you invented.

What you talking, Little Baas?

I didn't invent it.

The myth is as old as Africa.

To the people,

myth is stronger than love,

stronger than hate.

It gives them reason

to do what they would never do.

You ask. You'll see.

Ja, the myth.

The myth.

You are a genius.

You're the smartest

of us all.

Doc!

Here!

I just finished the lyrics.

They're about the guards.

That's wonderful.

Let me hear.

Ayalena, ayalena...

in English, please.

English, please.

Uh...

They run this way,

they run that way.

They are confused,

they are afraid.

They are cowards.

That's excellent.

Excellent.

It fits them perfectly.

It's from something

Geel Piet said.

Even better.

But will it fit in

with the music?

Oh, let's see.

Let's see.

♪

Huh?

Something is wrong?

No. It's beautiful.

But...

But do you like it like this?

Having obtained the cooperation

of all the tribal groups,

as Geel Piet predicted,

I set out to instruct them.

A handful of men from each tribe

were chosen to

learn their tribe's part.

They, in turn, taught others,

who taught others,

until everyone knew his part.

Whoa! Whoa!

What are these monkeys

singing about?

I don't know.

I only play piano.

Have you seen Geel Piet?

He hasn't arrived yet.

Don't worry.

It's his night, his creation.

He will come, boy, believe me.

Professor.

Evening, kommandant.

Ja.

Sit! Sit down!

What?

Herr kommandant,

P.K. Is excellent

translator.

You can speak their babble?

Yes, sir.

I always have.

All right. I want you

to tell them

the only reason

I'm allowing this concert

is to honor the visit

of the commissioner

and his lovely friend...

And also out of respect

for the Professor.

Even if he is in prison,

he's not a dirty criminal

like the rest of them!

He's a man of culture,

learning.

Tell them that.

For such a man,

I am prepared to do this,

but one hair of trouble,

just one...

It's finished.

Tell them that.

One wrong move, just one,

and they'll be

the sorriest Kaffirs

in the whole of Africa!

Tell them that.

What are they clapping for?

They respect strength,

Sir kommandant.

Well done, P.K.

Well done.

But... but Geel Piet

is still not here.

He will come.

He will come, believe me.

Now the music, P.K.

Now the music.

This concert was your idea...

Wasn't it?

You tricky bastard.

No, Baas.

Ooh!

Don't lie to me.

Your friends can't help you now,

and you're going to

tell me all your secrets,

starting with the song.

What are they singing?

I... I don't know, Baas.

Ohh!

Ah...

tell me.

Tell me.

They run... This way...

They... Run... That way.

They are...

A-afraid.

We are afraid?

You are... Cowards.

You bastard!

No. No, Piet.

Little Baas.

Piet, no, please.

All the tribes together.

First time...

Because of you...

Rainmaker.

No, please.

Little defeat... big.

When little... is smart.

First with the head...

And then with the heart.

No.

Piet, no. No, no...

Hearing the tribes

singing together,

Geel Piet dropped his camouflage

and defied Sergeant Bormann.

For that one brief moment,

he was a free man...

Before he died.

"The war ended.

"Doc went home to Germany,

"and once again,

I was left alone,

"fending off

the loneliness birds,

"trying as Doc

and Geel Piet had taught me

"to turn my sadness

into something wonderful,

"because no matter how much

"I wanted to believe I could...

My heart

would never let me."

Very evocative.

Singing... Dying...

Powerful images.

Well done.

Any ideology that needs

to attack the thing

that least threatens it...

Is an ideology that will not

outlive its own generation.

Inclusion,

not exclusion, gentlemen,

is the key to survival.

Something our new

Afrikaner government

should take heed of, eh?

Next week, we have

Mr. Gilbert,

who will enlighten us

on the subject of, um...

sport and wager

in imperial Rome, sir.

Very apt, Mr. Gilbert.

We shall look forward

to the experience.

Gentlemen...

One moment, gentlemen.

On my recommendation,

Oxford university has agreed

to consider you both

as candidates for matriculation.

Thank you, sir.

In light of your

financial situation, P.K.,

I took the liberty of making

an application for you

for a government scholarship.

If you'll just sign here,

we'll file it immediately.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you.

Your mother will be

pleased, Mr. Gilbert.

She'll be surprised, sir.

Thank you.

Oh, one thing more.

Was justice ever served?

Sir?

This man Bormann...

Geel Piet...

It was, sir.

Sergeant Bormann

was found a month later

hanging from a rope

in Geel Piet's cell.

1...

2...

3...

4...

5...

6...

7...

8...

9...

What the hell happened?

You were killing him.

That girl...

Find out who she is.

Are you bonkers?

We bet every pound we have.

You lose, we're paupers.

Find out who she is.

We thank the native population

for this spirited display...

And in the interest

of good sportsmanship,

I must insist...

Get back in there.

Thank you, God.

He's out!

The winner,

Prince of Wales school...

P.K. Keith!

Come on, let's go.

Any more? Any more?

That's it. A bit more.

That's very kind of you.

Thank you very much.

Any more?

Sorry, sir.

It's all set...

4:30 tomorrow at his gym.

Hoppie Gruenewald himself.

What about the girl?

Forget the girl.

I'm not going

to forget the girl.

Her father's

Dr. Daniel Marais.

It makes no difference at all.

You can't ignore the fact

that the man's the

intellectual darling

of the nationalist party.

He's got as much use for an

English boy rutting after

his purebred Afrikaner daughter

as the queen has for balls,

- pardon my French.

- Morrie.

Maria Elizabeth Marais...

seniors quarters,

room 22, Devilliers school.

Fortress virgin?

Odds are 10-1

you even don't get in the place.

How...

oh, no. Please.

You can't be here.

I didn't know

how else to meet you.

I could be expelled.

You could be expelled

for attending

boxing matches, too.

We went on a dare.

Did you like it?

It was...

Exciting.

You were very good.

Thank you.

Will you see me?

I can't.

My father would never

give me permission

to see an English boy.

How about your permission?

What about my father?

Dr. Marais...

P.K.,

they'll hear you.

I don't remember

telling you my name.

I don't remember

telling you mine.

Maria! Maria! Johann smuts

gave Margaret a ring!

I'll be there in a minute.

Your father, Saturday.

May I call on him?

Ja.

Good night.

Be careful.

I knew she was different

from the first time I saw her.

I'll find a way.

There's no way.

She's a waste of time.

You don't know what

you're talking about.

Don't I?

Your future

father-in-law.

If the man had his way,

he'd get rid of us

along with them.

You know your problem?

Lack of confidence.

Papers!

Where's your papers?

I'll teach you!

Take that!

You're killing my back!

What are you staring at?

Move along!

Come on.

Please!

Help me, please!

Help!

Please, sir! Help me!

Bloody country's gone to hell.

Come on.

Wish we were

at Oxford yesterday.

I must have made

the right impression.

He takes no one on.

You know that?

Go ahead.

You know who that is?

Yes.

It's Andreas Malan.

He's signed to fight

Joe Louis, you know.

Ja.

Let's go say hello.

Mr. Gruenewald.

What, you boys lost?

It's me, sir...

Morrie Gilbert.

I came here yesterday, remember?

About my man.

Oh, ja, ja, ja.

The champion, right?

Yes, sir.

And who are you?

I'm his manager.

Now, look here.

You train in this gym,

it's not like these

nice schoolboy fights.

Yes, sir.

What's it cost for you

to train him personally?

For my personal

attention, Mr. Manager,

I'd say, uh...

£15 a month.

15 a month. That's...

that's £90.

That's very reasonable.

Uh, here's 6 months in advance.

6 months?

I don't know

he's going to last 6 minutes.

There's only one way

to find out, sir.

Oh, ja?

All right. Let's

find out, then.

All right. Time out.

Come here.

Eight-punch combination.

Where did you learn

such a thing?

In prison, sir.

Are you trying to be

a comedian or a boxer?

A boxer, sir.

Right. Come on.

Manager,

you come to my office.

We'll talk terms.

Mr. champion,

you go and get showered.

You come see me afterwards.

We'll talk training.

Any questions?

Yes, sir. How do you

get away with this?

Get away with what?

The mixing.

Oh, ja.

Well, we Afrikaners

are funny people sometimes.

Outside the ring,

a black man is not equal.

Inside he is,

but not in public.

Only in private.

It's crazy, ja?

Come.

Hey. You're good.

An eight-punch

combination.

It's good.

Thank you, sir.

How do you do?

I'm Professor Marais.

Pleased to meet you,

sir. I'm P.K.

Admiring the art?

Yes, sir.

It's Maria's family history

from 1688 all the way

to the present.

That's my great-uncle,

Jan Piet.

He led a commando at 22

until your people caught him

and hanged him.

You mean the English?

I'm a South African, sir.

So am I.

So are the Zulus, the Xhosa,

the Pongo, the Ndebele,

the Sotho...

we're all South Africans,

just from separate tribes.

Some say all our problems

would be solved

if we stopped thinking

of South Africa

in terms of separate tribes.

Separation of things

is not coincidental.

Do you think a Zulu

wants to see his culture,

his sense of identity

replaced by someone else's, hmm?

Any more than I do mine?

No, sir. But I don't think

he wants being a Zulu

to mean he's denied

the same rights

that you and I enjoy.

Laws define rights.

I agree, sir.

But do they always

define justice?

Justice, young man,

is only relative

to who's in charge.

Quite true, sir.

But perhaps how long

they stay in charge

is relative to how well

they dispense that justice.

You come here

to ask for my permission

to see my daughter.

And knowing who I am

and what I stand for,

do you really believe disagreeing

with me will serve your cause?

I thought a man of your

intellectual reputation

wouldn't want his daughter

seeing someone who didn't think.

Intellectual reputation or not,

I'm in the first place a Marais,

a member of my tribe, my folk.

If you want to impress

me with your intellect,

don't do it by espousing

liberal ideas

procured in an English

private school.

I'm sorry. I won't

give you permission

to see my daughter.

For the record, sir,

I procured my ideas

long before I began

English private school.

From an English expert

on race relations, no doubt.

Actually, sir,

from a German expert on cacti.

But that's a long story.

Good day.

You wanted to see us,

Mr. Gruenewald?

Ja. Come in.

This is

Mr. Elias Mlungisi.

He promotes all the fights

in Alexandria township.

He's come to propose

a fight for you

with one of his boxers...

Gideon Duma.

Black and white fights

are illegal.

Where would the match be held?

In Alexandria.

After we're arrested

for the fight,

we'll be arrested

for being in a township.

You endorse this, sir?

Ja. There are risks,

but, uh...

Strictly talking boxing,

it's a match I'd pay to see.

Ja.

You were at the championship

last week?

Yes. You're

a good boxer.

Why were the people singing?

I don't know.

Morrie's right.

This fight's not for us.

Will that be all, sir?

Ja. Well...

That'll be all.

Thank you.

You're both a slice

short of a loaf.

Hello.

There was no phone listed.

I was going to leave this.

What is it?

Since my father

wouldn't give you

his permission to see me,

I decided I would give you mine.

How do you do?

I'm Morrie Gilbert,

the level-headed one.

How do you do?

Actually, I could do

with some fresh air.

Shall we?

Yeah.

I thought race mixing

was illegal.

It is.

So how does he

get away with it up there?

We keep wondering

the same thing.

You train there?

For a couple of weeks.

With the natives?

Ja.

Mr. P.K.

Excuse me, Mr. P.K.

I did not mean to be

dishonest in my answer,

but I did not want

to make public

things you have kept private.

Then tell me about the singing.

In bad times,

people do what they know,

and all they know

is the myth of inyanga ye Zulu,

the Rainmaker.

Listen to me.

I'm not that person.

This was all made up by a man

at Barberton prison.

Yes. Geel Piet.

I know you, don't I?

I worked in the laundry.

Yes. Of course.

Then you know

what I'm saying is true.

Geel Piet made this all up.

That's why you must

fight me. I'm Gideon Duma.

My people lose everything

out of this damn apartheid.

They can't put their hope

in stories.

Hope doesn't come from a myth.

It comes from here.

We make our own hope,

our own future.

The people must see that.

Just because you beat

some Afrikaner schoolboy

does not mean you are anything

but another schoolboy yourself.

I must beat you

to teach them that.

But what if he beats you?

Then I become

his number one supporter

and use the myth

to get everyone moving.

I will do anything...

anything to help my people.

Use anything.

Do you understand?

What's this here?

Family servants, officer.

I called them in.

My gear needs mending.

They're taking it home.

Papers, man.

Come on. Be quick!

Where are you coming from?

The gym, sir.

I train there.

You've an hour till curfew

and a long way to go.

You got a problem with that?

Hey!

You black bastard!

No, Baas.

Then get moving.

Duma!

You let me know

when I should come collect it.

Don't take too long!

Do you hear?!

Yes, Baas.

Are you all right?

My God, you lied to the police!

He doesn't work for you.

I had no choice.

I've never been so scared.

Me, neither.

I thought the officers

would do them over right here.

I mean the natives.

They scare me.

Not as much as we scare them.

They have nothing

to be afraid of from us.

They don't? Really?

Do you know many?

Natives? Well...

I don't really have

the opportunity, do I?

If you did, would you take it?

Ja. I would.

Even if it meant

going against your

father's orders?

What do you call this?

Checkmate, old boy.

Last bus.

You're extraordinary.

There's a young man...

English...

at Prince of Wales school.

I'd like you

to have a look at him.

I'll get back to you, Professor,

as soon as I have something.

Do that.

And this is the best

part of town, miss.

You never do get used to it.

Let's go. We can't

be late for the boxing.

Maria?

My name is Miriam Sisulu.

Uh, hello.

I'm Maria Marais.

You looked cold.

Please take my blanket.

Oh, no, no, no.

I'm fine.

It will keep you warm.

No, really.

I don't need it.

It's all right.

I'll return it at

the end of the fight.

Keep it. Really.

I couldn't possibly.

It's my pleasure.

Uh, Miriam.

Thank you.

You're welcome, Maria.

You are listening to me, please.

When I am saying break,

you must break at once.

No hits below the waist.

You are fighting clean, or, by

golly, I am giving penalty points.

Touch gloves.

Good luck, boys.

Now, look.

Don't try to fight him.

You box him, you hear me?

Don't let him set the pace.

Go in behind the left jab.

Box him. Box him.

On you go.

Keep your guard up!

Jab him!

Jab him, P.K.!

Don't fight him!

Box him!

1!

2!

3!

Fight!

Let's go, boys.

Box with your head, man.

You're not listening.

Now...

Look for his weakness.

You must find his weakness.

I can't find one.

You must find one!

Look.

He's taking water.

And where that water

goes, you go,

right down to here.

Put your punches there, you win.

If you don't, you lose.

Okay?

Ja.

Remember the stomach.

Okay.

That's it.

In the corner!

1!

Get up, Sonny!

Get up!

Get up, son! Get up!

7!

8!

9!

Come on!

You got him!

1!

2!

3!

4!

5!

6!

7!

8!

9!

10!

He's out! He's out!

Nice knowing you, hoppie.

The Rainmaker!

Inyanga ye Zulu!

Now we are in business.

Business?

What business?

The myth business.

Inyanga ye Zulu!

My nanny who raised me,

she lived in Alexandria.

Rachel.

I really loved her.

But I never thought about

who she really was, though...

Where she lived...

How she lived.

I always thought

when she went home,

it was to a house like ours.

Just smaller.

Ja.

Just smaller.

Who'd want to imagine

someone you love

living in Alexandria?

Ja.

Come on! Quick!

I'd better go.

Ah, yes. Of course.

I... I'll

never forget tonight

as long as I live.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Good night.

The senior ball

is next Saturday.

I'd like very much

if you escorted me.

What about your father?

I'll talk to him.

He'll understand.

He will.

You'll see.

Just say yes,

and let me worry about the rest.

Yes.

Thank you.

Good night.

Good...

night.

Thank you.

There.

Duma! Duma!

The Rainmaker's coming!

Oh, the Rainmaker!

Good morning, Rainmaker!

How are you doing

this morning, Rainmaker?

Gideon, I have to

tell you, I'm not

very comfortable doing this.

Doing what? But we

are training, anyway.

People see us doing it together.

Maybe your magic rub off on me.

There is no magic.

Look who's here.

Good morning.

Please sit.

This is

my new friend P.K.

Miriam Sisulu and her new class.

Hello. You fought

well last night.

Thank you.

I see he got you, too.

He has me convinced to teach

these sweet children,

even though I don't know

how to do it.

Come on. You're

a natural teacher.

Just look how nice...

They said she's a good teacher.

You speak Zulu?

Give my regards to Maria, huh?

I will.

See you. Bye-bye.

Watch out for him.

You are shameless, Gideon Duma.

He can convince snakes to walk.

She knows you.

We are to be married next month.

She's going to have

her hands full.

Come on.

What's the queue for?

The toilet.

Toilet?

The government allows only one

for every 200 people.

The law says only 2% of us

can go to school.

You know what you learn there?

Enough bloody Afrikaans

to be maids,

street sweepers,

or... or mine slaves.

We can't even read

the bloody apartheid signs

to tell us where we aren't

allowed to go.

You know, we hope for a good

tomorrow in South Africa,

but if we don't learn to do

for ourselves as equals,

that hope will disappear.

Disappear.

And my people will grow tired.

The tired will grow angry,

and the angry will grow violent,

and there will be no good

tomorrow in this country

for anybody, black or white.

What are you saying, Gideon?

I want you to start a school

to teach my people

to read and write English.

I said yes

to this running together,

but I can't teach

millions of people

to read or write English.

You taught singing in prison.

That was different.

What was different?

The tribes sang together

because of the myth.

They came last night

because of the myth.

They'll come again

because of the myth.

A myth we don't even believe.

Damn belief!

I believe in Africa.

I believe in my people.

I want to believe in the future.

Then what do you believe in?

Mind your mouth, Kaffir!

Whites got to stay back

when blacks walk by.

Duma:

What do you believe in?

Tell me. What?

What do you believe in?

Doc: Any question

you ever have...

The answer

you'll find in nature.

We can hold the class

on Saturday night

in the study room.

No one's around.

With your permission,

of course, sir.

It's Afrikaner law

we're living under

now, gentlemen.

We're aware of that, sir.

And you're asking me

to break that law

and possibly jeopardize

the survival of the school.

You've taught us that

inclusion, not exclusion,

is the key to survival, sir.

How will they ever be included

if they can't read

or write English?

I quite agree

with you, P.K.,

but at the end of the day,

it's only about a dozen people

you're talking about teaching,

and how much difference

will that really make?

A waterfall begins with

only one drop of water, sir.

Look what comes from that.

How clever of you,

P.K.

Thank you, sir.

Have a good weekend,

miss Marais.

Thank you.

You, too.

Have a good weekend, girls.

Maria.

Come here.

I've got great news.

Listen, I'm going to

talk to my father tonight

about the ball.

He won't have time to say no.

He wouldn't let me miss it,

and there's no one

else to go with.

I have a whole speech

prepared. Want to hear it?

You won't have to. Duma

asked us to start a school.

The head gave us permission

to use the study room.

We're starting tomorrow night.

Will you join us?

Tomorrow night?

The senior ball's

tomorrow night.

Maria, this is important.

Well, the senior ball's

important to me.

Look, I thought

you'd understand.

All I understand

is I'm not going

to my senior ball

because you want

to change the world!

That's what I understand.

Maria, listen to me.

No!

Thank you.

I wish they could be here

without being here.

Now, that might be tolerable.

Friends...

Before my lovely daughter

and Jacob and Anita's

handsome son

go off to her senior ball,

I'd like to mark the occasion

by wishing them both

happiness and a bright future,

and who knows,

maybe a common future.

Phillip and Maria.

All:

Phillip and Maria.

Mmm, speaking about the future,

I'd like to take a moment

to announce to you all

that, after careful

consideration,

I've decided to leave

the university

and accept

the prime minister's offer

to join the cabinet.

Congratulations.

So he agreed to accept

your residential permit plan

in full?

Without one revision.

Why shouldn't he?

The only Kaffirs

allowed to live in the townships

are ones we need to

work here. The rest

all the rest should go

back where they belong.

I mean, that's why the homeland

was created, isn't it?

Just by getting rid

of the children,

the slums will empty

by more than half.

Exactly.

Perhaps we should create a

homeland for the English, too.

That's a good idea.

I'll take it up

with the prime minister.

A toast.

Ahem.

To the Marais

residential permit plan,

to apartheid.

To apartheid.

That doesn't seem fair.

I beg your pardon, Maria?

That doesn't seem fair.

What doesn't?

Their homelands

are hundreds of miles away.

I wouldn't want to

have the government

telling me I

couldn't live with you

if you worked in

Pretoria or Cape Town

and I didn't have a permit.

Maria...

The plan doesn't apply to us.

It shouldn't apply

to anyone, I think.

Maria, when you know

nothing about a subject,

it's best to say nothing.

I... I know what

I've read.

I know what I've seen.

So what have you seen?

Hmm?

I've seen Alexandria.

With that English boy?

Answer me!

Yes.

When you're not at school,

you will be confined

to this house.

You will no longer be

allowed outside unaccompanied.

You are forbidden to ever

see him again, Maria!

Now excuse yourself.

You will learn there's a price

to pay for disobeying me!

If this is the price for

seeing an English boy,

what's the price

for seeing a Jewish one?

I won't tolerate this, Maria!

- Go to your room!

- Or how about a black?

What's the price for

seeing a black, father?

I won't hate like you!

I won't!

Maria.

Maria!

Maria.

Is it all right?

Absolutely.

Lovely weather we're having.

Indeed.

Come on.

Right through that door.

Come on.

You'll get wet.

Despite the government's

best efforts

to keep you from learning

to read or write English,

you few have managed to do so.

That's no small accomplishment.

What we hope to do here tonight

is to take your knowledge

one step further

and to teach you

to teach English to others

so that one day,

God willing,

each of you will be standing

in front of a class

doing exactly what

I'm doing here tonight.

Now, there are

2 types of letters...

consonants and vowels.

Morrie is pointing

to the vowels.

"A,"

"E,"

"I,"

"O,"

and "U."

Each vowel has a long sound

and a short sound.

We'll start with the long sound.

If you'll repeat after me.

"A."

"E."

"I."

"O."

I, uh...

Thought you might

need some help.

Come in.

You wanted to see us, sir?

Yes, come in.

Close the door.

This is Colonel Bretyn

of the police department

and his aide Sergeant Botha.

He's come to deliver an order

to close the Saturday school.

Can he do this, sir?

We can have the school closed

and leveled in 24 hours, boy.

Come now, Meneer Headmaster.

Let us end this now.

I have a full day

ahead of me still.

The Saturday school

will be disbanded

until further notice.

Permanently, Meneer.

Yes. Permanently.

Thank you, Meneer.

Your cooperation in this respect

will be noted in my report.

Good day.

Is that really

the end of it, sir?

For the moment,

I'm afraid it is.

Sir, if we let them

get away with it

on our own grounds,

it will never change.

History disputes you.

History takes too long.

Yes, I know it does,

but it's never kind

to those who try to hurry it.

Will that be all, sir?

Yes, thank you.

Oh, one more thing.

I know this may be no

consolation to you,

but these arrived this morning.

You're both accepted to Oxford.

Thank you.

Full scholarship

to you, P.K.

Congratulations.

Thank you, sir.

That'll do.

Thank you.

That was him,

wasn't it? Botha.

Yes. Is your uncle still

vicar at Saint Martin's?

Still vicar and liberal as ever.

Why?

Get back!

Piss Kop!

I owe you something,

you little bastard!

I was beaten by my father

for the shame of being expelled.

I was made to live in the barn!

I was not allowed

to go back to school!

My life was shit!

You can't be serious.

You tried to kill me.

I was branded an idiot

by everyone who knew.

They knew you well.

Gideon, no! No!

Bloody Kaffir.

This is not...

no more!

No more.

You may be the

heavyweight champion

of our country,

but you're a disgrace to it!

I'm going to see

this race-mixing hole

closed down.

You want to close

this place down?

You can well go ahead and try.

I don't need animals in here.

It's already full of animals.

I'm not finished with you...

Or the Marais girl.

Shh.

I went to your room at school.

I looked everywhere.

I was so worried.

Where have you been?

My father is sending me

to live with my aunt

in Pretoria.

He said if I ever see you again,

he'd have you arrested

and ruin your life.

He can't ruin my life.

I've been accepted

to Oxford.

Come with me.

To England?

Yes. To England.

Away from here.

I go to Pretoria tomorrow

morning first thing.

I graduate from school

in a month.

I'll come fetch you first thing.

You promise?

I promise.

It was my mother's.

My father gave it to her

when they first fell in love.

I love you.

Black and white together.

They won't like that.

To hell with what they like.

I train fighters,

not bloody ostriches

that stick their head

in the sand and pretend

there's no trouble

if they can't see it.

I train them

to stand in that ring

and dare their opponent

to get the better of them.

I can't teach one way

and behave another,

not anymore, I can't.

You know how to paint?

A bit.

Go on.

Bloody Nazis!

Take your hands off me, man!

Bloody Nazis!

Take your hands off me!

Take your hands off me, man.

Mr. Gruenewald!

Get back, Sonny.

Botha:

Everybody out! Now!

No!

Botha!

Bastard!

Be a man, Sonny!

Don't let them break you!

No! It's only

rubbish!

Bloody rubbish!

Follow your heart.

Do what you think is right!

Mr. Gruenewald!

Bastards!

Gruenewald!

You bloody Kaffir Boetie!

You're rubbish, Botha!

You're a shame on our people!

Piss Kop!

You rubbish!

Rubbish!

Good evening.

Everyone, come in.

Please.

Did you get the report

back from the doctor?

Oh, yes.

He said one works

as good as two.

Gideon, it was me

they came for me.

If I could give you

my eye, I would.

I know. I know.

Don't worry.

I think 20 teachers

are more important than 1 eye.

I mean it. I mean it.

I'll be fine.

You see, you've got a job to do.

Do it.

I want to thank you all

for having the courage to come.

Maria, will she be coming?

No. Her father sent

her to Pretoria.

We'll start with the chapter

on the conjugation of verbs.

Joshua, please start.

"To be."

From the sound of it,

it's probably my uncle.

Continue, Joshua.

"I am."

"You are."

"He is."

It seems we have a visitor.

I, uh, thought you might

be able to use these.

You're mad.

There's work to be done.

I can't believe it.

I brought some pencils.

Oh, how wonderful!

There you go.

Ask and you shall receive.

Amen!

Now that Maria's

back here with us,

we'll start again.

Joshua, if you will, please.

Ahem.

"To be."

You're violating the sanctity

of the church!

No, you are, rooinek,

with your damned

race-mixing ideas!

I'm Daniel Marais' daughter!

Leave us alone!

Sergeant, take the girl.

No! Stop!

Take your hands off me!

No! At least

let the women go!

You want to be equal.

Why not the women as well?

No. Wait. We'll leave.

You shouldn't have come, boy.

No!

Take your hands off me!

P.K.!

No!

Maria!

Daniel.

Daniel!

No!

Let it be.

Maria's death shattered me

like nothing had before.

I no longer had the will

to resist.

I was defeated.

I had to tell Duma

I was leaving for Oxford.

"E."

Children: "E."

"E."

"I."

"O."

"U."

Very, very good, children.

Now we shall do

the short vowels.

Ah.

Demonstrate how that verb works.

Now, give me an example

of the singular form

of the verb "to be."

I am.

That's correct.

Listen to this.

"We hold these truths

to be self-evident,

"that all men are created equal,

"that they are endowed

by their creator

with certain..."

Unalienable.

Un-a-lie-an-able.

It works.

What did I tell you?

"That among these

are life, liberty,

and the pursuit

of happiness."

Duma:

Well done, Miriam.

A little work in Durban

and Pretoria and the cape.

We leave in the morning.

Gideon, no, no.

I... I can't.

Rainmaker, what will it be,

Oxford or a good tomorrow?

Did Maria die for nothing?

Hmm?

Tell me.

What will it be?

Tell me.

I thought so.

They're coming for P.K.!

Police!

They're coming

for P.K.!

P.K., they're

coming for you!

Police!

They're coming for P.K.!

Come on.

P.K., they're coming

for you!

Policeman:

Stay where you are!

You are under arrest

for violating the locations

regulations act!

This way!

Gideon, listen to me!

I won't let this happen.

They want me.

It's not about you.

It's about all of us.

Giving them what they want

won't make the struggle

any shorter.

Go!

Go! Go!

S where's the rooinek?

Where's the white boy?

Tell me!

Where is he?

I don't know.

To your left!

Aah!

Hurry, children!

Hurry!

Hurry, children!

Duma!

Have you seen P.K.?

No, no, I haven't.

Look, I must get

the children away.

Find him before they do.

Come, children, come.

Where's the white boy?

Tell me where he is!

You can't hide him!

We are the law.

You break the law,

you pay, Kaffir!

Where is the little bastard?

You want to learn English?

I'll teach you English.

This is a bullet.

The bullet goes in the gun.

It's over, Botha.

You've caught me.

Call them off. Take me in!

I'll take you in...

When I'm finished with him.

No!

But you...

I'll take you in

when you're dead,

you Kaffir-loving shit!

Uhh!

Now, Piss Kop...

Let's box, eh?

You ruin the country,

you bastard!

Get up!

You and that Maria bitch!

Come on.

Come on!

Eli.

It's all right.

He... he's a very

nice cook, you know.

Yeah.

I remember how my

nanny would tell me

that if I listened to the wind,

I would hear the

voices of my life.

I listened and heard Doc

talk about justice.

I heard Geel Piet talk

about hope.

I heard Dabula Manzi,

the old medicine man,

talk about courage.

I heard Maria.

These are the voices of my life,

the voices of Africa.

These are the voices

I'll carry with me

as Duma and I set out together

to help bring our country

closer to a good tomorrow.

The Power of One (1992) - full transcript