All language subtitles for Winnie.Mandela.2011.LIMITED.1080p.BluRay.x264-SNOW

I'm Columbus Madikizela,
headmaster of Bizana Elementary School.

Welcome.

Next time, have your pickaninnies chase
the cattle off the road.

We haven't got time to waste.

As you can see,
we do not have desks and chairs.

Our only equipment is
blackboard and chalk.

We came to evaluate your
teaching abilities.

So far, you're not making
a very favorable impression.

Despite all our disadvantages,

I can wager that any one of my pupils
could compete

with any white pupil in your cities.

Winnie, Shakespeare's 18th Sonnet
for our guests.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

"Thou art more lovely
and more temperate,

"Rough winds do shake
the darling buds of May,

"And summer's lease
hath all too short a date,

"Sometime too hot the
eye of heaven shines,

"And often is his gold..."

Yeah, yeah, that's enough. Thank you.

Good day.

- Winnie.
- Yes, Father.

I was disappointed
when you were not born a boy.

But now, I am proud.

I'm so very proud that
you're my daughter.

Don't forget to write.

You should be the one taking the bus,
sisi.

It was always going to be you.

Miss Madikizela.
Miss Madikizela.

Oh, goodness. I'm so sorry we're late.

There was this frightful accident
in Eloff Street.

We do apologize.

We are so very pleased
that you're coming to study with us.

Yes. Our first student
from a rural area.

And we believe your father is a chief.

No, madam. My father is a teacher,
son of a chief.

But the first black
teacher in our district.

Daughter of a Xhosa teacher,
son of a chief is quite good enough.

Welcome to Johannesburg.

Can I help you with that?

Now, ladies, a career as a social worker
means two things for certain.

Long hours and pitiful salaries.

Please turn to page 296...

...in the Encyclopaedia
Of The Social Sciences.

Quietly, please.

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

Hi.

Hallelujah

Hallelujah

I actually can't believe
that you just did it.

You'll tell Mama.

Winnie, haven't you had enough of your
books yet'? We're going to town. Come.

I have seen the town.

You study too much,
and you're going to put us all to shame.

For goodness sake, it's Saturday.

Oh, my, it is beautiful.

I think she likes it.

Let's go in and try it on.

Oh!

Oh, you look like Cinderella.

Go on, buy it.

There are better things
to do with money.

Darling, buying beautiful clothes
is the only thing to do with money.

- No, really, I can't.
- You can pay me back later.

Excuse me. Excuse me!

What do you think you are doing?

My friend would like to buy a dress.
Is that a problem?

- You're going to ruin that dress.
- Ruin it?

Only paying customers
are allowed to try the dresses on.

Look, you people don't bathe.

The next customer is
not going to want to buy that dress.

It'll smell. Now take it off
before I call the police.

- Leave her alone.
- Just you...

Africans want to be paid a living wage.

Africans want to perform work
which we are capable of doing

and not work which the government
declares us to be capable of.

We want to allowed and not obliged

to living in rented housing
which we can never call our own.

We want to be allowed
to live where we obtain work

and not being forced to
living in our ghettos.

African men want to be with their wives

and not being forced
into an unnatural existence.

African women want to be
with their husbands...

He is incredible.

Who is he?

Nelson Mandela.

Mandela who?

Nelson. Nelson Mandela.

I would follow him anywhere.

Would you, Winnie?

Move, move, move, move.

Get these people out of here.
Go on. Get out of here.

This is a peaceful meeting.

This is a peaceful meeting.

This is an illegal demonstration.
Disperse.

We have every right to be here.

Illegal gathering. Disperse.

Arrest him!

Wouldn't mind finding out more
about that Mandela fellow.

He's a dreamboat.

- He's a lawyer.
- A black lawyer?

Mmm. He's defending a friend of mine.
She was caught without a pass,

and she hardly earns anything,
so he did it for free.

A lawyer that works for free? Mmm-mmm.

My friend says he's also a boxer.

A boxer?

Wouldn't mind getting to go
a couple of rounds with him.

Always ready for a few rounds,
aren't we, Harriet?

Ladies, ladies, ladies, ladies.

Wow! Who's the new lamb?

Or should I say angel?

This is Peter Magubane.
He's a photographer for DRUM Magazine.

May I please take a picture?

I would rather you didn't.

Oh, come on, Winnie. You never know.

Everyone reads DRUM, and a picture
in it might make you famous.

Okay. All right. Here we...

Yes!

What are you doing?

Oliver, please, ask her
if she needs a lift.

Please.

Sorry.
Hello, sisi. Sorry.

My friend wants to know
if you need a lift.

Is she sure?

Is she sure?

Are you sure?

I am sure.

Haven't I seen you somewhere before?

Let's go. Let's go.

Comrades. Comrades.

All is well? Good, good, good.

- Hoot if you see anyone.
- I will, sir.

Yes! I knew it!

I told you.
I have seen her somewhere before.

The girl from the bus stop.

We should join forces
with The Pan-Africanist Congress.

Let me see.

They are very good at explosion.

The Pan-African Congress want to drive

this country's four million white people
into the sea,

and they want us to help them do it.

We refuse to work with people
who exclude whites, coloreds or Indians.

But we are not getting anywhere.

The apartheid system is getting stronger
by the day.

- And they've got guns and...
- Comrades. Listen, brothers.

We must remember,

ours is a struggle for justice,
not domination.

Nelson, quickly, hide!

- Nelson...
- Go, go, go, go, go!

Your meeting is illegal!

You are surrounded!

All of you, out! Now!

Nelson, quickly!

Mandela, Tambo!

Where are they? Where are they?

Hey, Jew boy.

Where are they?

Where are they?

They are not here.

You lying kaffir.

Where are they?

Where are they?

Search the place.

Congratulations. It's
a full scholarship.

You'll have your master's
in a year or two.

And then if you wish,

I'm sure you could apply to live and
work in the United States permanently.

You don't seem to
excited, Miss Madikizela.

Of course, I am, sir.

Every one dreams of going
to America, but...

But?

I am needed here.

- Here?
- Bara.

Baragwanath Hospital?

They've offered me
post of social worker.

It is the first time the position has
ever been offered to a black person.

Yes, well, that's wonderful, of course.

Do you understand what an honor,
what a privilege this is,

both for the school and for yourself?

It's the opportunity of a lifetime.

- Excuse me.
- Please, sir, wait your turn.

This is for you.

Wait.

Wait.

Oh, my God.

We get at least
10 abandoned babies a week.

You mustn't let them in.

Not let them in?

Into your heart.

Or you'll spend many nights
crying yourself to sleep.

- I'm Adelaide.
- Winnie.

I know. Everyone's talking about you.

Choosing Soweto over Boston.

Winnie, can we give you lift home?

- Isn't it a bit out of your way?
- No, not at all.

Oh, there's Oliver.

- Hello. Hello.
- Hello.

This is my friend, Winnie.

Winnie. Adelaide has
told me a lot about you.

Look, I have an idea.
Why don't we go to Dizzy's tonight?

Oh, yes. Yes.

Adelaide. Adelaide,
you look lovely as always.

You?

Me. Winnie.

Nomzamo Madikizela.

Daughter of a teacher, son of a chief.

From the village of Bizana in the
district where my ancestors are buried.

Nelson Mandela.

You two know each other?

He offered me a lift once.

I'm sure he did.

Don't you use the bus anymore?

What do you mean?

Well, every time I go past
that bus stop looking for you,

you are never there.

I work strange hours.

Twenty-four hours.

Mmm-hmm.

Would it be rude for me to invite you
to share a meal with me tomorrow?

I will send my driver to fetch you.

I'm working tomorrow.

- Well, then the next tomorrow.
- Working.

Then the tomorrow after that tomorrow.

Maybe, maybe not.

I hope it isn't too late
for us to still have lunch.

Are you going to try some?

- Try the green.
- Okay.

I will try it because
it's your favorite place.

Are you feeling hot?

Yes.

- Have you never eaten curry before?
- No.

The papers are right.

You really are the most dangerous man
in South Africa.

I like you, Winnie.

- You are not afraid.
- Of what?

Of me.

I am sure your
father must miss you a lot.

I was a big disappointment to my father.

What would make you say that?

He wanted a son,
and I was the sixth daughter.

That would make him a very rich man.
You get a lot of cows for six girls.

I tried to impress him.

I became the best stick
fighter in the district.

There wasn't a boy
who could beat me.

- You were a stick fighter?
- Huh. Yes, so watch out.

lam very glad.

What?

That you were not born a boy,

and that you chased them all away.

Brothers and sisters,

we were all created free by our father.

We have been become the refuse
of humanity.

Therefore, I urge you
to take your passbook,

this document
which labels you a third-class citizen

and restricts your freedom of movement,

and burn it upon the flames of justice!

- Viva ANC!
- Viva!

- Viva ANC!
- Viva!

Nelson. Hey, Nelson!

Nelson!

Listen to this.

...where the trial of the rebel
black leaders, Nelson Mandela

and Oliver Tambo
commences next week.

What started as a campaign to protest laws
requiring natives to carry passbooks,

has, according to the State,
become a campaign of open defiance,

possibly the start of a revolution.

Both are lawyers now out on bail.

The charge, treason.
The sentence, possibly death.

Major, would you say

these statements establish a reasonable
indication of seditious intent?

I would say that is correct.

If Mandela and his thugs had their way,
they'd murder us in our beds.

Objection, My Lord!
That's outrageous conjecture.

It is the truth! Ask him!

- Mr. Prosecutor...
- Ask him!

...kindly ask your client
to exercise some restraint.

- He's right there, ask him!
- Gentlemen, in my chambers now, please.

Court is adjourned.

Here are some drinks for you.

What in the bloody hell are you doing?

You're drinking out of
the same cup as them.

Oh!

- The chickens!
- Yeah.

No, no, no, no!

Open the door!

- Who is it?
- The police! Open the door!

What is it?

No matter what happens, do not come out.

Where are you going?

Don't come out.

What do you want?

Open the bloody door, man!

Where is your warrant?

And what warrant would that be?

Why are you here?

Do not go in there!

Ah, gentlemen, a whore!

Don't you dare speak
of my wife that way!

- You shut up and sit down!
- You have no...

You shut up and sit down! Sit down!

You have no right!

Search the place!

What, hey!

- What's in there?
- That's my wedding cake!

Winnie, no! No, Winnie!

- That's my wedding cake!
- Oh, really, huh?

That is my cake.

Your wedding cake? In here?

Aw.

Your wedding cake.

- No.
- No, hey!

Get your hands off my wife!

Not bad.

Let's go.

Are you all right?

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

You have no right to do this.

Sorry, our hands are tied.

Tied? You are supposed to be doctors.

You can see our resources are
limited, but we do the best we can.

Here, sweetie.

- Are you scared?
- Scared of what?

- Of hiring me?
- Why?

Because you're Mandela's wife?

The police can be very persuasive.

It would be a privilege
to have you working here.

At Sharpeville, an
industrial township near Johannesburg,

thousands gathered
outside a police station

in protest against new laws requiring every
African to carry a pass at all times.

The crowd refused to disperse,

- and the police opened fire.

All right,
let us know whatever we need.

Most of these people have been shot
in the back.

My God! Have the security
police gone mad?

Mr. Mandela, what is it
that the Africans want?

They want political independence
on the basis of one man, one vote.

What is the likelihood of violence?

The reaction of the government
to our stay at home,

ordering a general mobilization,

arming the white community,
arresting 10,000 South Africans.

There are many people who feel

that it is useless for us to continue
talking peace and non-violence

against a government
whose reply is only savage attacks.

The blacks have the moral high ground
at the moment.

Yeah.

We have to move quickly, get to their
leaders before they gather momentum.

You know,
my father warned me this day would come.

But I didn't think it
would be this soon.

I love you.

I love you.

Whatever happens, the peoples
of South Africa will be liberated.

The men are being trained for the
possibility of an armed conflict.

The people are demanding blood.

Some of the world's leaders see this
Mandela through rose-tinted glasses.

That is a grave error.
Not only is he a very dangerous native,

but a Communist, through and through!

He must be stopped at all costs!

Your daddy will be so proud.

Where's the father?

Away.

Relax, Nelson. We'll bluff it through.

Afternoon.

Good afternoon, Mr. Mandela.

Nice car.

Now, would you mind stepping
out of the vehicle, please?

- Winnie! Winnie!
- What is the matter?

Listen to the radio.

South Africa's
most wanted man, Nelson Mandela,

was arrested near Howick in Natal today,
wearing one of his many disguises,

this time, as a chauffeur.

Mr. Mandela was taken into custody
and charged with sabotage and treason.

As you can see, we're here
at the so-called Rivonia Trial,

where Nelson Mandela and co-accused...

...face a possible death
sentence for treason.

As you can see behind me,
the crowd is becoming ever more agitated

as he's led into
the Supreme Court of Justice.

Order!

Order!

Order!

Order!

Mrs. Mandela.

This is a final warning.

You will not come into this courtroom
wearing traditional regalia.

It encourages dissent.

My Lord, may I remind you, of the
limited rights I have in this country,

I still have the right
to choose my own wardrobe.

Sit down!

Mr. Mandela.

My Lord, I'm the first accused.

At the outset, I want to say

that the suggestion made
by the State in its opening

that the struggle in South Africa is under
the influence of foreigners or Communists

is wholly incorrect.

I have done whatever I did,

both as an individual
and as a leader of my people,

because of my experience in South Africa

in my own proudly-felt,
African background.

And not because of what any outsider
might have said.

I hope that life might offer me
the opportunity

to serve my people

and make my own humble contribution
to their freedom struggle.

I believe that South Africa belongs

to all those who live within it,
be they black or white.

I have dedicated my life

to this struggle of the African people.

I have fought against white domination,

and I have fought against
black domination.

I have cherished the ideal

of a democratic and free society,

in which all persons will live together
in harmony

and with equal opportunities.

It is an ideal

for which I hope to live for

and to see realized.

But My Lord, if it needs be,

it is an ideal for which
I am prepared to die.

Winnie,

Nomzamo,

the death sentence,

if it comes.

We will not appeal it.

We will not appeal it.

Having weighed all of the evidence,

this court finds all
of the accused guilty

of sabotage and conspiring
to overthrow the State.

The sentence,
in the case of all of the accused,

is life imprisonment.

Court adjourned.

Mrs. Mandela, what are your plans

now that your husband's been sentenced
to prison for life?

I will not allow the selfless efforts

of my husband and his friends
to be abandoned.

I will continue the struggle
for a free and equal South Africa.

Thank you, ma'am.

Free Nelson Mandela.

Mrs. Mandela, there are procedures.

- First, you must make an application.
- I have done that.

Then it is gone to Pretoria
where it is reviewed.

Then it goes to the Supreme Court
where the judge will take a decision.

He is my husband!

I have not seen him in almost a year!

I do not know if this letter will
reach you or if you will ever read it.

Or that they will allow you to read it.

Life without you is hell.

I know that loneliness
is worse than fear.

I could deal
with the police kicking in the door

and searching the house,

but I can't deal with
being away from you.

This way, please.

Undress, please.

You want to see him or not?

You have 15 minutes.
No political talk, no whispering,

or I will terminate the visit
immediately. Understood?

Understood?

Go, sit down.

- I'm sorry.
- I have been trying...

No, you first.

I have been trying to get permission
to see you for months.

The British Ambassador had to intervene.

No political talk.

I heard about the trouble
you are having at home.

No political talk.

Is there anything we can discuss?

Nomzamo,

I have missed you in every way
a man can miss a woman.

No whispering!

I miss you, too.

I said no whispering!

We are talking about love,

something you obviously
know nothing about.

So you think
you're clever now?

The visit is over.

Come with me. It's over.

I love you.

I love you.

They think because they have put
my husband on an island

that he will be forgotten.

They are wrong.

The harder they try to silence him,
the louder I will become!

Nelson Mandela's dream of a free
society, it will be kept alive!

To those who oppose us, we say,

"Strike the woman, and
you strike the rock."

Putting Nelson Mandela on Robben Island

was the best thing we ever did.

That bloody wife of his.

Look at yesterday's London Times.

Yeah. She's stirring
up the foreign press.

Gentlemen, we must break her.

Shut up! Shut up! You!
You're coming with us!

Get out. Get out!

Take her away.

Somebody help! Help!

Shut up, woman.

- Get in!
- Lock her in!

Lock her up.

Somebody, look after my girls.

Somebody, help me. Open the door!
Please.

Help my girls!

Please look after my babies.
Please look after my babies!

Please look after my girls!

Come on.

Get your hands off of me!

- Get in.
- Get in there!

Get your hands off me!

- Where are my children?
- Silence!

"You are being detained
under Section 6 of the Terrorism Act."

- Where are my children?
- Shut up!

"You are suspected of committing acts

"that endanger the maintenance
of law and order..."

Where are my children?

"...or of inciting other people
to commit such acts!"

Come.

Where? Where are my children?

Where are my children?

Where are my children?

Where are my children?
Where...

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's..."

"Shall I compare
thee to a summer's day?"

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's..."

"Shall I compare thee
to a summer's day?"

We know about the telephone
conversations with Oliver Tambo.

What conversations?

Don't lie.

So, tell me what you talked about.

You recorded them.
You tell me what I said.

You're going to die in here
unless you cooperate.

Here.

Come on. Go that way.

Where? Where are you going?

Here. Take this.

On your back.

There.

Right there. Come on.

Who are you talking to?

Silence!

In this country,

Communists and their
wives have no rights.

I have rights.

Where are my letters?

You think you're so clever, huh?

Just 'cause you're married to that kaffir who
thinks he's smarter than all of us, hmm?

"Shall I compare thee..."

What?

"...to a summer's day?"

What?

I think it's poetry, Major.
She says it all the time.

- Oh, poetry?
- "Shall I...

"Compare thee to a summer's day?"

Hey! Did I say you
could get off the brick?

Stop this!

That's better.

I have rights.

And?

Nothing.

Perhaps you're losing your touch, Major.

Sir, if we could just apply more
physical ways of doing it, I think...

Out of the question. No.
Out of the question.

It comes from the top.

You mustn't give her
any recourse to accuse us of

physically hurting her.

Unfortunately.

Okay.

Now, carefully, repeat after me.

No talking!

Shh.

Now, say after me.

"So long as men can
breathe or eyes can see,

"so long lives this,
and this gives life to thee."

Silence!

Wait. Wait!

No. No. Come back.

According to my source,
she's still in solitary.

She has been in there for eight months.

Hey, Mandela. Shut your mouth.

What do they want from her?

I wish there was a way
I could send her some encouragement.

Nelson.

No singing!

I said stop singing!

What? Do you think you're
funny singing that song?

Stop it! Stop it!

Stop it! Stop it!

Stop singing that song!
Can you hear me'? Do you understand?

Stop singing that song!

Just stop it! Can you understand me?

She's been in solitary confinement
longer than anyone's ever been before.

We haven't even allowed her to wash
for, like, five months.

She stinks.

She won't let her
suffering influence him.

But still, she just...
She won't give an inch.

It sounds like you admire her, Major.

We must never, never, never apologize

for treating a terrorist
like a terrorist!

Yes, sir.

So, you want to be released?

Simple. Go on the radio.

Tell your husband's army, Umkhonto
we Sizwe, to lay down their arms.

Tell the ANC's leaders,
like your friend Oliver Tambo,

to start talking sense
to the government.

In fact, we'll fly you by helicopter

to Robben Island to see
your husband.

Yes. You like that?

You stay at nice little house, sea view.

You cook for him and the Prime Minister

while they talk
about jointly ruling South Africa.

Hmm? How does that sound?

Fuck you.

Here. Release her.

- Release her?
- Yeah.

Find another way.

- Winnie.
- I am fine.

- Give me a moment.
- Yeah. Of course.

Mama! Mama! Mama!

I missed you so much, Mama!

Girls. Girls.

Missed you, girls.

They have made me stronger.

What have you done to my wife?

You should ask yourself that question,
Mr. Mandela.

It does not matter.

We are winning, Nelson.

They are conscripting white boys
from school straight into the army.

We are...

No political talk!
Take her away!

We are winning this.

Keep fighting.

Keep fighting. Keep fighting!

I love you.

- No to lessons in Afrikaans!
- Viva!

- No to the language of the oppressor!
- Viva!

Zindzi.

- Yes, Ma.
- Be careful.

Child's Welfare. Morning.

What? What? I can't hear you.

Mama! Mama!

What happened? What happened?

It's my friend, Mama. He's dead.

The law of nature does not allow
for parents to bury their children.

But the law of this country
go against the law of nature.

We are here to shed
tears for our children!

They are the heroes of the struggle!

The silent screams of
our children tell us

the time for peaceful protest is over!

- Viva ANC! Viva!
- Viva!

This bloody woman, she'll never give up.

And now, what do you want?

- We are sewing a banning order.
- I already have one.

In terms of this new order, you'll be
confined to the town of Brandfort.

Also, you may not meet with more
than one person at any one time.

- Where is Brandfort?
- Far away from Soweto.

Where do you think you're going?

My dearest Nelson,

the government is blaming me
for the massacre of the school children.

So, I have been banned again.

This time,
to Brandfort in the Free State.

How, Ma?
We have to stay here for how long?

Shit.

They have exiled
me to break my spirit.

But today, I feel liberated.

I think of the early years in Soweto,

and I will again use my experience
and my hope to help these people.

Mrs. Mandela.

You come to give me running water?

- I came to offer you a
job, Mrs. Mandela. -A job?

I'm Chris Hattingh,
the local doctor,

and I hear how you're helping
the local community.

And I've been thinking,
if you work with me,

then you can continue helping them
and earn a living.

Is this a trap?

Trap? No. It's a genuine offer.

Are you one of them?

Thank heavens, no.

When do I start?

They said it was an accident,
but I know they killed him, Nelson.

Although I did not know this man,
he touched me with his offer of help.

I didn't know I could grieve so much for
someone who was not one of my people.

I suspect, when you read this,
most of the pages will be blackened out.

I pray for you and miss you every day.

Your loving wife, Winnie.

Winnie!

- You made it!
- Yes.

How did you get a permit
to get into the township?

I know people.

I wouldn't call them friends,
but anyway, I'm here.

I'm glad you are.

I see you haven't changed.

It's been hard, Mary. Very hard.

But it feels good helping people again.

- The community has never had a clinic.
- No.

- This building was a liquor store.
- Oh.

- How do you do it?
- Donations. Some from overseas.

No. I mean, how does
Winnie Mandela do it?

Tea?

- Come.
- Yeah.

I'll send one of the girls to get
some milk from the police station.

- The police station?
- Yes, they've plugged my fridge there.

They steal it, but the milk is fresh.

What is going on back home?

There is rioting in the
townships, Winnie.

Rioting and death.

Some of the youth
who call themselves comrades

are calling for work stay-aways
and boycotts of shops run by whites.

They say they want to make
the country ungovernable.

But when people don't listen,

they call them collaborators
with the government

and then kill them as
an example to others.

They hang car tires around their necks.

And set them on fire.

They call it necklacing.

Of course, the security police
just love this black-on-black violence.

They say, "Yeah, it's tribal.
Zulus against Xhosas.

"And it proves to the world that they will
never be capable of running this country."

We will see.

Hello?

When?

Okay, thank you. Thank you!

The rumors are true, Ma.

They've moved him to Pollsmoor.
They've taken them off the island, Ma.

It is a small victory, Zindzi.
Your father is still in prison.

Life sentence, remember.

Good afternoon, Mrs. Mandela.
We've been expecting you.

What is going on?

Perhaps the government feels

they are going to need some goodwill
from us soon.

I have not touched your
skin in over 20 years.

it is as soft as I remember.

Winnie...

Winnie...

I have often wondered

what our lives would
have been like if...

What do you want?

This is to notify you
that the minister of law and order

has relaxed your banning order.

- Is this a joke?
- No.

You're free to return
to Soweto, Mrs. Mandela.

You must be careful, Winnie.
Soweto is not as you and I remember it.

Be careful? This is my home.

Who are you? What do you want?

Get out of Soweto.

Do you know who I am?

Of course.
Mother of the Nation, Winnie Mandela.

Out! Out! Out!

Thank you.

From now on, anyone who wants to hurt
Mama Winnie has to come through me.

- What is this?
- This is your football club.

I don't play football.

You do now, Mama.

Mama Winnie.

Can't you see this is
Mrs. Winnie Mandela?

I don't give a shit.

I want to see the chaplain.

This is the UDF headquarters.
You can't go in.

I'm going in.

Okay, okay.

What is your name?

They call me Stompie.

Stompie?

Stompie is running from the police.

What do you want us to do?

I want to be in your football club.

We have rules here.

If you follow them, we are your family.

Hey, hey. hey.

You won't forget the ANC
anytime soon, my friend.

Who did this? Why?

Because of the talks
between your husband and the government,

we are surrounded by enemies.

Don't worry, Mama.
I will find you another house.

This Mandela United
Football Club of yours

are thugs.

They're not. They're boys with no homes.
I give them shelter.

They are thugs, tsotsis.

The reports I am getting from Soweto
is that they are out of control.

Soweto is out of control.

These boys, they protect me.

I am asking you to get rid of them.

- Or...
- Or?

Winnie, is there something
you are not telling me?

What?

The coach of your so-called
football club...

You have no idea what is happening
outside these prison walls.

It is a war! People are at war!

You have not answered my question!

You have no right to
ask me that question.

Comrades, we must get rid
of police informers.

We must unite in the struggle, together,

hand-in-hand with our boxes
of matches and necklaces.

We shall liberate this country.

- Viva ANC! Viva!
- Viva!

You are making enemies,
powerful enemies.

Many of them in the ANC.

Necklacing is barbaric.

It was a serious misjudgment to condone
it, an embarrassment to all of us.

Embarrassment?

My husband has been in prison
for 20 years, 20.

What has changed in this country since?
Nothing.

You know,
I almost feel sorry for the ANC.

With friends like Winnie,
who needs enemies?

He's a police spy on file, Mama.

Stompie?
Are you sure?

We have evidence, Mama.

I don't believe it.
He would never hurt me.

Well, Anton saw him
at the Parys soccer game

talking to some policemen.

You saw him?

Yes, Mama.

I don't know.

Reverend, please.

Let him go.

This boy is a criminal.

We're taking him in for questioning.

This boy is under the protection of God.

Stay out of it.

No! This boy has sanctuary!
He's innocent!

The body of Stompie Seipei,
a 13-year-old boy,

who has been living at the Diepkloof
home of Mrs. Winnie Mandela,

- has been found in a field in Soweto.

Police have opened a murder docket,
though it is not yet clear

whether the boy's death is connected
to his stay at the home of Mrs. Mandela.

I don't know
what has happened to you.

He was a child, Winnie. A child.

He was a police spy, informer.

I would rather die here

an old man, alone in prison,

than to see my freedom bought
at such a cost.

A new turn today in the murder
case of teenage activist Stompie Seipei

as prosecutors announce
that Mrs. Winnie Mandela

would in fact be charged
with kidnapping and assault.

This follows amended testimony
from witnesses

who, until now, have steadfastly denied

that Mrs. Mandela had anything to do
with the boy's death.

Mrs. Mandela, the court accepts

that you might not have been fully aware
of the assaults described,

even though most of them took place
at your home.

However, the testimony that we have
heard has also revealed you to be a calm,

composed, deliberate
and unblushing liar.

Your complicity in maintaining
the captivity of this boy,

even after you became aware
of the seriousness of the situation,

has associated you with grievous crimes.

The African National Congress,

the United Democratic Front

and the Congress of
South African Trade Unions

have accepted a vote of no-confidence
in Mrs. Winnie Madikizela Mandela.

Unfortunately, she is
simply not accountable

to the structures and principles
of the Mass Democratic Movement.

Accordingly,

Mrs. Mandela has been stripped of
all membership in the alliance.

We denounce her and distance ourselves
from her actions and media statements.

We got rid of her at last,

or should I say she did
it on her own, really?

Too late, Brigadier, I'm afraid.

Too late, sir?

The only honorable and indeed
realistic way forward, I believe,

is to negotiate a peaceful transition
of power to the ANC.

A handover of power, sir?

We've got this one chance
to do the right thing

and to avert a catastrophic civil war.

We must support
the notion of Nelson Mandela

as the next president of South Africa.

You are making

a grave error.

I pray to God that you
are wrong, Brigadier.

History will never forgive you.

The Minister of Justice will oversee
the release of political prisoners,

the unbanning of political exiles.

We will soon announce the release date
of Mr. Nelson Mandela.

Twenty-seven years.

It has been a long time.

But thanks to you,
I was able to survive it.

I owe you a debt of gratitude
that I may never be able to repay.

Mr. Mandela, the world is ready
to greet you, sir.

Thank you, Warrant Officer Gregory.

Shall we, my dear?

She cannot be the first
lady of this country.

You know that, Nelson.

Comrade Nomzamo and I have agreed

that as a result of differences,

it would be better for us to separate.

I salute her for her
immense contribution

for the struggle against injustice.

I do not pan?
From her with recriminations,

but embrace her
with all the love and affection

I have felt for her
since the moment I first met her.

I thank you.

Tomorrow sees
the long-awaited appearance

of Mrs. Winnie Mandela,

former chairperson
of the ANC Women's League.

Mrs. Mandela, once affectionately known
as Mother of the Nation,

has been vilified for her involvement

in the abduction and murder
of child activist Stompie Seipei.

She now not only fights
to remain in the ANC,

but also in the very hearts
and minds of her people.

The Mass Democratic Movement has said,

"In recent years, Mrs. Mandela 's
actions have increasingly led--."

Winnie, Stompie.

"...for the various sections
of the oppressed people..."

Fuck you!

"...and with the Mass Democratic
Movement as a whole."

Fuck you all! Fuck you!

...conduct of her so-called football
club, which has been widely condemned...

There she is! There she is!

- Viva, Winnie Mandela! Viva!
- Viva!

Good morning, Mrs. Mandela.

Mrs. Mandela, as you are aware,

this commission is dedicated to healing
the wounds caused by apartheid.

And we would like to remind you
that this is not a court of law.

It is a forum where victims
can tell of their sufferings,

and where perpetrators can seek amnesty
from prosecution,

provided they prove that their
actions were politically motivated.

Having said that, this commission
applauds you for coming forward.

Mrs. Mandela, there is
no doubt in my mind,

nor should there be in anyone else 's
that you have had a hard, heroic life.

You have experienced enormous suffering,
and you have made enormous sacrifices.

But, as we sit here,

it would be hard for any of us,
including you, I hope,

not to acknowledge in good conscience,

that somewhere, something
went very wrong.

Mrs. Mandela, you may speak.

Mrs. Mandela.

Mrs. Mandela.

Mrs. Mandela.

Winnie.

Smile for the camera.