DURING the 1980s, while I served as the Luanda District Commissar of the ANC’s military wing, Umkhonto we Sizwe, one of my many responsibilities was overseeing the political instruction and well-being of our trainees and soldiers. In Luanda, we had several sites, including the Viana Transit Camp and the Moses Kotane Self Reliance Centre, which housed hundreds of combatants. In addition, we had various residences for the Regional Command and some underground locations used for training cadres who had specific covert missions to be carried out either inside South Africa or in the frontline states of the SADC.
On one particular day, I was summoned by my superior, Regional Commissar Rufus Mbilini (real name Ambassador Fannie Phakola) and assigned the task of training Comrade Tito Titus Mboweni in one of the residences where I lived, in São Paulo. Even though it wasn’t a traditional military camp, we adhered to a strict military routine – classes, wake-up calls, meals, and curfews. Every soldier had chores.
I assigned Comrade Tito the task of cleaning the residence. But Tito objected and instead volunteered to be the cook. That’s when I realised I had my work cut out for me. In the military, we don’t entertain suggestions – orders are given and must be executed. Given the ever-present threat of enemy agents and infiltrators, I was immediately suspicious of Tito’s request. The thought crossed my mind that he might be an agent sent to poison us, so I kept a close eye on him.
Eventually, I had no choice but to let him take over the cooking when our existing cook completed his training and left. To my surprise, Tito’s cooking skills elevated the residence’s meals to near Michelin-star quality. I am well aware that this more recent foray into cooking may give another impression.
Not long after, I outlined Tito’s political education syllabus. Once again, he challenged me – this time by requesting a change in the syllabus. This was becoming more than irritating. In underground training, I wasn’t supposed to know anything about his background, real name, or future missions – only his pseudonym and his training requirements. But Tito told me about his academic accomplishments and how extensively he had studied Marxist-Leninist classics. I firmly told him I would not tolerate insubordination; he was to follow my instructions or face punishment.
Tito managed to push me to the edge when he began correcting my English. Yet, over time, I began to respect him. Hesitantly, I realised I might have something to learn from this “trainee.” Soon, Tito was teaching the teacher. He helped me navigate classics like Das Kapital and introduced me to Karl Marx’s Eleventh Thesis on Feuerbach. Marx’s words, “The philosophers have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point, however, is to change it,” became the starting line for all of our conversations.
An enduring friendship had begun.
Tito eventually completed his special training and was quietly whisked away in the middle of the night without any goodbyes. I didn’t know where he was going, and it wasn’t my business to ask.
Years later, when we returned from exile, our friendship was rekindled, except for a period when I was deployed to the Free State. On May 9th, 1994, as we entered the first parliament of the new democratic South Africa, we shared many memorable times together, braaing and enjoying life’s pleasures.
When President Mandela appointed Tito as Minister of Labour, he came to me and said, “You have 48 hours to find me a political advisor.” I asked him what criteria he had in mind. He responded, “I need a commissar who can navigate labour issues and speak truth to power.” I immediately recommended our former senior commissar, Rufus Fannie Phakola. Rufus joined him right away, and the two became close friends, with Rufus even following Tito to the Reserve Bank when Tito was appointed Governor.
Tito was a man of deep loyalty, a brilliant thinker, brutally honest, a true comrade, a talented teacher, and above all, a friend and brother.
You have certainly lived up to your second name, “Titus”, Latin for Honourable.
I will miss my chef. Rest well Mkhonto.
- Ntshikiwane Mashimbye is a South African diplomat and former politician. He was an ANC Member of Parliament from 1994 to 2004. Since leaving Parliament, he has served as South African Ambassador to the Democratic Republic of Congo, Brazil, and Egypt.
