Winnie (2017) Movie Script
(Insects chirring)
(Mooing)
(Baby crying)
(Speaking Xhosa)
(Class repeats phrase)
(Class cheering)
(Chicken clucking)
(Sighs)
(Rooster crowing)
(Children shouting)
(Ululating)
(Boys cheering)
(Seagulls squawking)
(Horn honking, cows mooing)
- 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 favourable impression.
- Despite all our disadvantages,
I can wager that any one of my pupils
could compete with any white pupil in your cities.
(Scoffs)
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--
- Yeah, yeah, that's enough.
Thank you.
Good day.
(Car starting)
- (Columbus): 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.
(Driver shouting in Xhosa)
- You should be the one taking the bus, sisi.
- It was always going to be you.
(Engine sputtering, starting)
(Horn honking)
(Siren wailing)
(Speaking South African language)
- Ms. Madikizela! Ms. Madikizela!
Oh goodness! I'm so sorry we're late.
There was a frightful accident in Ellof 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 2 things for certain:
long hours and pitiful salaries!
Please turn to page 296
in the Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences.
Quietly, please!
- (All): Hallelujah
Hallelujah
(Choir repeats): Hallelujah...
- (Woman): Go, Winnie!
(All cheering)
- I actually can't believe that he was there.
- 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!
(Woman singing in foreign language )
(Horn honking)
- 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'll ruin that dress. - Ruin it?
- Only paying customers are allowed to try the dresses on.
- Look, you people don't bath.
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.
- 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 be allowed
and not obliged to living in rented houses
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?
(Laughing)
- (Police officer): Move, move, move!
Get out of here! Come on!
Get out of here!
- Go, go, go!
- This is a peaceful meeting!
- Get out of our way! Move!
- This is a peaceful meeting!
- This is an illegal demonstration. Disperse!
- We have every right to be here.
- This is an illegal gathering.
Disperse! Arrest him!
- I wouldn't mind finding out more
about that Mandela fellow.
He's a dreamboat!
- He's a lawyer.
- A black lawyer? - Mm-hmm!
He's defending a friend of mine.
She was caught without a pass and hardly earns anything,
so he did it for free.
- A lawyer that works for free? Mm-mmm.
- My friend says he's also a boxer.
- A boxer?
I wouldn't mind getting to go
a couple of rounds with him.
- Always ready for a few rounds,
aren't we, Harriet?
(Laughing)
- 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 your 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.
- OK! All right. Here, wait.
Yes!
(Camera clicks)
(Tires screeching)
- What are you doing?
- Oliver, please.
Ask her if she needs a lift.
Please.
(Speaking Xhosa)
- My friend wants to know if you need a lift.
- (Nelson): Is she sure?
Is she sure?
- Are you sure?
- I am sure.
- Haven't I seen you somewhere before?
(Horn honking)
- Nelson, let's go. Let's go.
(Horn honking)
Comrades!
Comrades...
All is well? Good, good, good.
- Hoot if you see anyone.
- I will, sir.
- (Man 1): We should be aggressive.
- (Man 2): We should be more militant.
- (Woman): Tea?
- Yes, I knew it!
I told you I had 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 with explosives.
(Clears throat)
- The Pan African Congress
want to drive this country's 4 million white people
into the sea.
And they want us to help them do it!
We refuse to work with people
who exclude whites, coloureds or Indians.
- But we are not getting anywhere.
The apartheid system is getting stronger by the day.
And they've got guns and tanks!
- (Nelson): Comrades! Listen, brothers.
We must remember:
Ours is a struggle for justice,
not domination.
(Horn honking)
- Nelson! Oliver! Quick, hide!
Go, go, go!
- Your meeting is illegal.
You are surrounded. All of you, out! Now!
- Nelson, quickly!
(Breathing heavily)
- Mandela! Tambo!
Where are they? Where are they?
(Speaking Afrikaans)
(Gasps)
Where are they?
Where are they!
- They are not here.
- You're lying, kaffir.
- Ah!
- 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 too excited, Ms. Madikizela.
- Of course I am, sir.
Everyone dreams of going to America.
But...
- But?
- I am needed here.
- Here?
- Bara.
- Baragwanath Hospital?
- They've offered me the post of a social worker.
It is the first time the position
has ever been offered to a black person.
- Yes. W-well, that's wonderful, of course.
Do you understand what an honour,
what a privilege this is,
both for the school and for yourself?
It's the opportunity of a lifetime.
(Phone ringing)
- Molo, sisi.
Excuse me.
- Please, sir, wait your turn.
- This is for you.
- Wait! Wait!
Oh my God!
(Cooing)
- 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!
(Chuckles)
Winnie, can we give you a lift home?
- Isn't it a bit out of your way?
- No, not at all.
Oh, there's Oliver.
- 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?
(Jazz )
Oh, yes, yes. I know him well.
- Adelaide, you look lovely as always.
- Ndiyabulela.
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.
- 24 hours.
(Chuckles)
- 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.
(All laughing)
(Ticking)
(Typing on typewriter, phone ringing)
(Bell tolling)
(Sighs)
- I hope it isn't too late for us to still have lunch.
Are you going to try some?
Try the green. - OK.
I will try it because it's your favourite place.
(Clearing throat)
- Are you feeling hot?
- Yes.
- Have you never eaten curry before?
- No.
(Laughing)
- 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 6th daughter.
- But that would make him a very rich man!
You get a lot of cows for 6 girls.
(Laughing)
- 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.
I am 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 become the refuge of humanity.
Therefore, I urge you
to take your passbook,
this document which labels you
a 3rd-class citizen
and restricts your freedom of movement,
and burn it upon the flames of justice!
Viva ANC!
- (Crowd): Viva!
- Viva ANC! - (Crowd): Viva!
- (Repeating): Amandla! - (Crowd repeating): Awethu!
- (Nelson): Viva!
- (Man): Nelson! Hey, Nelson!
Nelson!
Listen to this.
- (Woman): ...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, kindly ask your client
to exercise some restraint!
- He's right there. Ask him.
- Gentlemen, in my chambers now. Court is adjourned!
(Whispering)
(Bell tolling)
(Crowd singing in Xhosa )
(Camera clicks)
(Woman singing in Xhosa )
- Here are some drinks for you.
- What the bloody hell are you doing, sersant?
Drinking from the same cup as them?
(Man singing in foreign language on record player )
(Horn honking)
- Oh!
(Clucking)
The chickens!
- No, no, no!
(Dog barking)
(Banging on door)
- (Man): 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. Sit down.
- You have no-- - You shut up! 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 is my wedding cake. - Oh really, huh?
- That is my cake.
- Your wedding cake? In here?
Oh...
Oh...
Your wedding cake.
- No. - Hey!
- Get your hands off my wife!
- Not bad.
Let's go.
(Car doors closing)
(Tires screeching)
- Are you all right?
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.
- You have no right to do this.
- I'm sorry. Our hands are tied.
- Tied?
You are supposed to be doctors.
(Tut-tuts)
Masima.
- You can see our resources are limited,
but we do the best we can.
Here, sweetie. Let me see.
- 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.
(Child laughing)
- (Man): At Sharpville,
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.
(Man coughing)
- Just let us know what we need.
(Screaming)
- 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's 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 nonviolence
against a government whose reply
is only savage attacks.
(Typing on typewriter, phones ringing)
- The blacks have the moral high ground at the moment.
- (Officers): Ya.
- We have to move quickly
and 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 people 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 is 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.
(Static)
- (Man): 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.
(Crowd cheering)
- Viva! Viva!
- As you can see, we're here at the so-called Rivonia Trial
where Nelson Mandela and coaccused...
(Horn honking)
...face a possible death sentence for treason.
As you can see behind me,
the crowd becoming evermore agitated
as he's led into the Supreme Court of Justice.
(Crowd cheering)
- Amandla! - (Crowd): Awethu!
- Amandla! - (Crowd): Awethu!
- (Nelson): Amandla! - (Crowd): Awethu!
(Gavel pounding)
- Order!
Order!
(Crowd ululating)
(Gavel pounding)
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.
(Crowd laughing and cheering)
(Gavel pounding)
- Sit down.
Mr. Mandela.
- My Lord, I am 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 the 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.
(Crowd protesting)
Court adjourned.
(Crowd cheering and ululating)
- 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 their struggle
for a free and equal South Africa.
- Thank you, ma'am.
- Free Nelson Mandela.
Read it.
- Mrs. Mandela,
there are procedures.
First, you must make an application.
- I have done that.
- Then it goes to Pretoria, where it is reviewed.
Then it goes to the Supreme Court
where a 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,
whether they will allow you to read it.
Life without you is hell.
I know that loneliness is worse than fear.
I can deal with the police kicking in the door
and searching the house.
(Horn blaring)
But I can't deal with being away from you.
(Seagull squawking)
- Aargh!
Niet! Niet! Niet!
(Laughing)
- This way, please.
Undress, please.
Do 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 am 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.
- (Guard 1): No political talk!
- I heard about the trouble you are having at home.
- (Guard 2): No political talk!
- Is there anything we can discuss?
Oh, 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.
(Scoffs)
- So you think you're clever now, eh?
The visit is over.
- Come with me. It's over. - I will.
- I love you.
- I will. - I love you!
(Door opening and closing)
- They think because
they have put my husband on an island
that he will be forgotten.
They are wrong!
(All shouting)
The harder they try to silence him,
the louder I will become!
(Crowd cheering)
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.
- (Winnie): Amandla! - (Crowd): Awethu!
- Amandla! - Awethu!
Viva!
Viva!
- Putting Mandela on Robben Island
was the best thing we ever did.
- It's that bloody wife of his.
Look at yesterday's London Times.
- Ya.
She's stirring up the foreign press.
Gentlemen, we must break her.
(Winnie gasps, girls screaming)
- Shut up! Shut up!
You, you're coming with us! Come on!
- Get out! Get out!
- Take her away!
- Somebody help! HELP!
- Shut up, ma'am.
Get in!
- (Girls): Mama! Mama!
- Somebody! Help my girls!
Somebody help me! Help my girls, please!
Help my girls!
Please look after my babies!
Please look after my babies!
Please look after my girls!
- (Woman): Come on.
- Get your hands off me!
- 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...
- (Sobbing): Where are my children?
- ...or of inciting others to commit such acts.
Come.
- WHERE?
Where are my children?
Where... Where are my children?
Where are my children?
Where, where...
(Breathing heavily)
Where are my children?
Where...
Shall I...
compare thee...
to a summer's...
- (Young Winnie): 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!
- (Prinsloo): We know about your 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.
- (Prinsloo): You are going to die in here
unless you cooperate!
- Here.
Come on.
Oh! That way.
Wait.
Where are you going?
Here. Take this to your family.
Right there. Come on.
(Whispering): Here, here.
- (Guard): Who are you talking to?
- Shhh, shhh!
(Laughing)
- 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.
- Shall I...
- Poetry? Hmm!
- ...compare thee to a summer's--
- Hey! Did I say you could get off the brick?
- Stop this!
- (Prinsloo): Put her back. Put her back!
(Winnie laughing)
That's better.
- I have rights.
(De Vries coughing)
- And?
- Nothing.
- Perhaps you're losing your touch, major.
- S-sir, if we could just apply more physical ways
of--of doing it, I think--
- Out of the question. No, out of the question.
It comes from the top.
We mustn't give her any recourse to accuse us of...
physically hurting her.
(Sighs)
Unfortunately.
- OK.
Now... carefully.
Repeat after me.
- (Guard): No talking!
- Shhh! Shhh!
Now, say after me.
So long as men can breathe
or eyes can see...
so long lives this
and this gives life to thee.
(Laughing)
(Clang)
- (Guard): Silence! - Shhh!
Wait! Wait!
No, no, come back.
(Sighs)
(Moaning)
- According to my source, she's still in solitary.
- She has been in there for 8 months.
- Hey, Mandela! Shut your mouth!
- What do they want from her?
I wish there was a way
I could send her some encouragement.
(Muttering)
- Nelson?
(Singing in Xhosa )
- (Guard): No singing!
(Continues 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?
(Continues singing )
(Door slamming)
- She's been in solitary confinement longer
than anyone's ever been before.
We haven't even allowed her to wash for, like, 5 months.
She--
She stinks.
And she won't let her suffering influence you.
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!
- (Prinsloo): Yes, sir.
- So, you want to be released?
It's 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'll stay in a nice little house with a sea view.
You'll 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? - (De Vries): Ya.
We'll find another way.
- Winnie?
- I am fine.
Give me a moment.
- Yeah, of course.
- (Girls): Mama! Mama! Mama!
- Mama! Mama! I missed you so much, Mama!
- My girls...
My girls...
(Sighs)
I missed you guys.
(Sniffs)
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!
- (Guard): No political talk! Take her away!
- We are winning, Nelson.
Keep fighting.
(Both speaking Xhosa)
Keep fighting!
Keep fighting! - I love you.
- No to lessons in Afrikaans!
- (Crowd): Viva!
- No to the language of the oppressor!
- (Crowd): Viva!
(Boy chanting, crowd chanting)
- Zindzi...
- Yes, Ma?
- Be careful.
(Phone ringing)
Child Welfare. Morning.
(Woman on phone shouting, indistinct)
What? What? I--I can't hear you.
(Girls screaming)
(Gunshot)
(Gunfire)
(Glass shattering)
Zindzi!
- Mama!
Mama!
Mama, they were shooting at us! Mama!
- What happened? What happened?
- It's my friend, Mama. He's dead!
(Sobbing)
(Helicopter passing)
- The law of nature
does not allow for parents to bury their children.
But the law of this country
goes 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!
- (Crowd): Viva!
(Crowd singing in South African language )
- This bloody woman, she'll never give up.
- And now what do you want?
- We are serving 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.
- Mama, we have to stay here for how long?
(Officer speaking Afrikaans)
(Birds chirping)
- 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.
(Bicycle bell ringing)
- 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...
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. That's a genuine offer.
- Are you one of them?
- Thank heavens, no.
- When do I start?
- Hey, man!
- 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.
- (Mary): Winnie!
(Mary laughing)
- 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...
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.
- (Mary): Oh...
- 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.
(Chuckles)
I'll send one of the girls
to get some milk from the police station.
- The police station?
- Yes. They 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...
(Man shouting, crowd cheering)
...and set them on fire.
(Screaming)
They call it "necklacing."
Of course, the security police
just love this black-on-black violence.
They say: "Ya, it's tribal, Zulus agains Xhosas."
And it proves to the world
that they will never be capable of running this country.
- We will see.
(Phone ringing)
- Hello?
When?
OK, thank you. Thank you.
The rumours are true, Ma.
They've moved him to Pollsmoor.
They're taking him 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.
- (Winnie): What is going on?
- (Nelson): 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.
(Sniffles)
Winnie...
Winnie...
I have often wondered...
what our lives would have been 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.
(Crickets chirping, dog barking)
(Gasps)
- Shhh! Shhh!
- Who are you? What do you want?
- Get out of Soweto.
You don't belong here.
- Do you know who I am?
- Of course.
Mother of the Nation,
Winnie Mandela.
(Gunshot)
(Shouting in South African language)
- 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 chairman.
- This is the UDF headquarters.
You can't go in.
- I'm going in.
- OK.
OK, OK.
- (Winnie): 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.
(Woman singing in foreign language )
- Hey, hey, hey!
(Men speaking South African language)
(Men shouting)
(Woman screaming in South African language)
(Sobbing)
- Shhh!
You won't forget the ANC
anytime soon, my friend.
(Screaming)
(Tires squealing)
- Who did this?
Why?
- (Jerry): Because of the talks
between your husband and the government.
We are surrounded by enemies.
(Tut-tuts)
Impimpi.
Don't worry, Mama.
I will find you another house.
- (Nelson): 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 report 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.
(Door slamming)
(Feedback)
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!
Amandla!
- (Crowd): Awethu!
- Viva ANC! Viva!
- (Crowd): Viva!
(Singing in South African language )
(Team starts singing )
- (Desmond Tutu): 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.
Twenty!
What has changed in this country since?
Nothing.
- You know,
I almost feel sorry for the ANC.
Huh? With friends like Winnie, who needs enemies?
(Laughing)
- He's a police spy, an informer.
- Impimpi.
- Stompie?
Are you sure?
- We have evidence, Mama.
- I don't believe it. He would never hurt me.
- Well, Alton saw him at the Pirates soccer game
talking to some policeman.
- (Winnie): You saw him?
- Yes, ma'am.
- I don't know.
(Sighs)
- OK.
(Dog barking)
Reverend, please!
(Coughs)
- Ah!
- Let him go.
- Hey, hey, hey! - I said let him go!
- This boy's 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!
- (Woman): 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.
- (Nelson): I don't know what has happened to you.
He was a child, Winnie.
A child.
- He was a police spy.
Informer. Impimpi.
- I would rather die here,
an old man alone in prison,
than to see my freedom bought
at such a cost.
- (Woman): 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 honourable 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.
- (Whispering): History will never forgive you.
- The Minister of Justice
will oversee the release of political prisoners
and the unbanning of political exiles.
We will soon announce the release date
of Mr. Nelson Mandela.
- 27 years.
- It has been a long time.
- And thanks to you,
I was able to survive it.
I owe you a debt of gratitude
that I may never be able to repay.
(Footsteps approaching, knocking)
- 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 part 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.
- (Man): Mr. President!
(Reporters shouting, indistinct)
- (Woman on TV): 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...
- Stompie. Winnie.
Winnie. Stompie.
Fuck you!
Fuck you all!
Fuck you!
- (Man): There she is! There she is!
(Crowd stops talking)
- (Woman): Viva, Winnie Mandela! - (Women): Viva!
- Good morning, Mrs. Mandela.
Mrs. Mandela, as you are aware,
this commission is dedicated to healing the wounds
caused by apartheid.
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.
(Button clicks)
- 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.
- (Woman): Mrs. Mandela?
Mrs. Mandela?
Mrs. Mandela...
(Man singing in foreign language on record player )
- (Nelson): Winnie...
- (Man): Smile for the camera.
Tell me, what would you do?
Tell me what you'd do for it
If you saw a burning flame
Would you walk right through for it?
Would you die for it?
Would that be too much?
Tell me now
Would you bleed for love?
Would you bleed for love?
Would you lay down your life?
Would you give it all?
Would you beg and crawl?
Would you fall upon the knife?
Would you bleed for love?
For love
Would you do anything?
Would you bleed for me?
Tell me how far you'd go
How far would you go for it?
Tell me I need to know
Would you sell your soul for it?
Would you give your last breath
And still not give enough?
Tell me now
Would you bleed for love?
Would you bleed for love?
Would you lay down your life?
Would you give it all?
Would you beg and crawl?
Would you fall upon the knife?
Would you bleed for love?
For love
Would you do anything?
Would you bleed for me?
'Cause I'll do anything you ask
Walk barefoot over broken glass
That's the truth
I would bleed for you
I would bleed for love
I would lay down my life
I would give it all
I would beg and crawl
I would fall upon the knife
I would bleed for love
For love
Would you do anything?
Tell me now
Would you bleed for love?
Would you lay down your life?
Would you beg and crawl?
Would you fall upon the knife?
Would you bleed for love?
For love
Would you do anything?
Oh, would you bleed for love?
Would you bleed for love?
Would you bleed
For me?
(Mooing)
(Baby crying)
(Speaking Xhosa)
(Class repeats phrase)
(Class cheering)
(Chicken clucking)
(Sighs)
(Rooster crowing)
(Children shouting)
(Ululating)
(Boys cheering)
(Seagulls squawking)
(Horn honking, cows mooing)
- 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 favourable impression.
- Despite all our disadvantages,
I can wager that any one of my pupils
could compete with any white pupil in your cities.
(Scoffs)
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--
- Yeah, yeah, that's enough.
Thank you.
Good day.
(Car starting)
- (Columbus): 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.
(Driver shouting in Xhosa)
- You should be the one taking the bus, sisi.
- It was always going to be you.
(Engine sputtering, starting)
(Horn honking)
(Siren wailing)
(Speaking South African language)
- Ms. Madikizela! Ms. Madikizela!
Oh goodness! I'm so sorry we're late.
There was a frightful accident in Ellof 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 2 things for certain:
long hours and pitiful salaries!
Please turn to page 296
in the Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences.
Quietly, please!
- (All): Hallelujah
Hallelujah
(Choir repeats): Hallelujah...
- (Woman): Go, Winnie!
(All cheering)
- I actually can't believe that he was there.
- 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!
(Woman singing in foreign language )
(Horn honking)
- 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'll ruin that dress. - Ruin it?
- Only paying customers are allowed to try the dresses on.
- Look, you people don't bath.
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.
- 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 be allowed
and not obliged to living in rented houses
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?
(Laughing)
- (Police officer): Move, move, move!
Get out of here! Come on!
Get out of here!
- Go, go, go!
- This is a peaceful meeting!
- Get out of our way! Move!
- This is a peaceful meeting!
- This is an illegal demonstration. Disperse!
- We have every right to be here.
- This is an illegal gathering.
Disperse! Arrest him!
- I wouldn't mind finding out more
about that Mandela fellow.
He's a dreamboat!
- He's a lawyer.
- A black lawyer? - Mm-hmm!
He's defending a friend of mine.
She was caught without a pass and hardly earns anything,
so he did it for free.
- A lawyer that works for free? Mm-mmm.
- My friend says he's also a boxer.
- A boxer?
I wouldn't mind getting to go
a couple of rounds with him.
- Always ready for a few rounds,
aren't we, Harriet?
(Laughing)
- 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 your 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.
- OK! All right. Here, wait.
Yes!
(Camera clicks)
(Tires screeching)
- What are you doing?
- Oliver, please.
Ask her if she needs a lift.
Please.
(Speaking Xhosa)
- My friend wants to know if you need a lift.
- (Nelson): Is she sure?
Is she sure?
- Are you sure?
- I am sure.
- Haven't I seen you somewhere before?
(Horn honking)
- Nelson, let's go. Let's go.
(Horn honking)
Comrades!
Comrades...
All is well? Good, good, good.
- Hoot if you see anyone.
- I will, sir.
- (Man 1): We should be aggressive.
- (Man 2): We should be more militant.
- (Woman): Tea?
- Yes, I knew it!
I told you I had 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 with explosives.
(Clears throat)
- The Pan African Congress
want to drive this country's 4 million white people
into the sea.
And they want us to help them do it!
We refuse to work with people
who exclude whites, coloureds or Indians.
- But we are not getting anywhere.
The apartheid system is getting stronger by the day.
And they've got guns and tanks!
- (Nelson): Comrades! Listen, brothers.
We must remember:
Ours is a struggle for justice,
not domination.
(Horn honking)
- Nelson! Oliver! Quick, hide!
Go, go, go!
- Your meeting is illegal.
You are surrounded. All of you, out! Now!
- Nelson, quickly!
(Breathing heavily)
- Mandela! Tambo!
Where are they? Where are they?
(Speaking Afrikaans)
(Gasps)
Where are they?
Where are they!
- They are not here.
- You're lying, kaffir.
- Ah!
- 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 too excited, Ms. Madikizela.
- Of course I am, sir.
Everyone dreams of going to America.
But...
- But?
- I am needed here.
- Here?
- Bara.
- Baragwanath Hospital?
- They've offered me the post of a social worker.
It is the first time the position
has ever been offered to a black person.
- Yes. W-well, that's wonderful, of course.
Do you understand what an honour,
what a privilege this is,
both for the school and for yourself?
It's the opportunity of a lifetime.
(Phone ringing)
- Molo, sisi.
Excuse me.
- Please, sir, wait your turn.
- This is for you.
- Wait! Wait!
Oh my God!
(Cooing)
- 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!
(Chuckles)
Winnie, can we give you a lift home?
- Isn't it a bit out of your way?
- No, not at all.
Oh, there's Oliver.
- 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?
(Jazz )
Oh, yes, yes. I know him well.
- Adelaide, you look lovely as always.
- Ndiyabulela.
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.
- 24 hours.
(Chuckles)
- 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.
(All laughing)
(Ticking)
(Typing on typewriter, phone ringing)
(Bell tolling)
(Sighs)
- I hope it isn't too late for us to still have lunch.
Are you going to try some?
Try the green. - OK.
I will try it because it's your favourite place.
(Clearing throat)
- Are you feeling hot?
- Yes.
- Have you never eaten curry before?
- No.
(Laughing)
- 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 6th daughter.
- But that would make him a very rich man!
You get a lot of cows for 6 girls.
(Laughing)
- 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.
I am 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 become the refuge of humanity.
Therefore, I urge you
to take your passbook,
this document which labels you
a 3rd-class citizen
and restricts your freedom of movement,
and burn it upon the flames of justice!
Viva ANC!
- (Crowd): Viva!
- Viva ANC! - (Crowd): Viva!
- (Repeating): Amandla! - (Crowd repeating): Awethu!
- (Nelson): Viva!
- (Man): Nelson! Hey, Nelson!
Nelson!
Listen to this.
- (Woman): ...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, kindly ask your client
to exercise some restraint!
- He's right there. Ask him.
- Gentlemen, in my chambers now. Court is adjourned!
(Whispering)
(Bell tolling)
(Crowd singing in Xhosa )
(Camera clicks)
(Woman singing in Xhosa )
- Here are some drinks for you.
- What the bloody hell are you doing, sersant?
Drinking from the same cup as them?
(Man singing in foreign language on record player )
(Horn honking)
- Oh!
(Clucking)
The chickens!
- No, no, no!
(Dog barking)
(Banging on door)
- (Man): 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. Sit down.
- You have no-- - You shut up! 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 is my wedding cake. - Oh really, huh?
- That is my cake.
- Your wedding cake? In here?
Oh...
Oh...
Your wedding cake.
- No. - Hey!
- Get your hands off my wife!
- Not bad.
Let's go.
(Car doors closing)
(Tires screeching)
- Are you all right?
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.
- You have no right to do this.
- I'm sorry. Our hands are tied.
- Tied?
You are supposed to be doctors.
(Tut-tuts)
Masima.
- You can see our resources are limited,
but we do the best we can.
Here, sweetie. Let me see.
- 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.
(Child laughing)
- (Man): At Sharpville,
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.
(Man coughing)
- Just let us know what we need.
(Screaming)
- 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's 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 nonviolence
against a government whose reply
is only savage attacks.
(Typing on typewriter, phones ringing)
- The blacks have the moral high ground at the moment.
- (Officers): Ya.
- We have to move quickly
and 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 people 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 is 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.
(Static)
- (Man): 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.
(Crowd cheering)
- Viva! Viva!
- As you can see, we're here at the so-called Rivonia Trial
where Nelson Mandela and coaccused...
(Horn honking)
...face a possible death sentence for treason.
As you can see behind me,
the crowd becoming evermore agitated
as he's led into the Supreme Court of Justice.
(Crowd cheering)
- Amandla! - (Crowd): Awethu!
- Amandla! - (Crowd): Awethu!
- (Nelson): Amandla! - (Crowd): Awethu!
(Gavel pounding)
- Order!
Order!
(Crowd ululating)
(Gavel pounding)
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.
(Crowd laughing and cheering)
(Gavel pounding)
- Sit down.
Mr. Mandela.
- My Lord, I am 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 the 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.
(Crowd protesting)
Court adjourned.
(Crowd cheering and ululating)
- 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 their struggle
for a free and equal South Africa.
- Thank you, ma'am.
- Free Nelson Mandela.
Read it.
- Mrs. Mandela,
there are procedures.
First, you must make an application.
- I have done that.
- Then it goes to Pretoria, where it is reviewed.
Then it goes to the Supreme Court
where a 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,
whether they will allow you to read it.
Life without you is hell.
I know that loneliness is worse than fear.
I can deal with the police kicking in the door
and searching the house.
(Horn blaring)
But I can't deal with being away from you.
(Seagull squawking)
- Aargh!
Niet! Niet! Niet!
(Laughing)
- This way, please.
Undress, please.
Do 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 am 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.
- (Guard 1): No political talk!
- I heard about the trouble you are having at home.
- (Guard 2): No political talk!
- Is there anything we can discuss?
Oh, 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.
(Scoffs)
- So you think you're clever now, eh?
The visit is over.
- Come with me. It's over. - I will.
- I love you.
- I will. - I love you!
(Door opening and closing)
- They think because
they have put my husband on an island
that he will be forgotten.
They are wrong!
(All shouting)
The harder they try to silence him,
the louder I will become!
(Crowd cheering)
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.
- (Winnie): Amandla! - (Crowd): Awethu!
- Amandla! - Awethu!
Viva!
Viva!
- Putting Mandela on Robben Island
was the best thing we ever did.
- It's that bloody wife of his.
Look at yesterday's London Times.
- Ya.
She's stirring up the foreign press.
Gentlemen, we must break her.
(Winnie gasps, girls screaming)
- Shut up! Shut up!
You, you're coming with us! Come on!
- Get out! Get out!
- Take her away!
- Somebody help! HELP!
- Shut up, ma'am.
Get in!
- (Girls): Mama! Mama!
- Somebody! Help my girls!
Somebody help me! Help my girls, please!
Help my girls!
Please look after my babies!
Please look after my babies!
Please look after my girls!
- (Woman): Come on.
- Get your hands off me!
- 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...
- (Sobbing): Where are my children?
- ...or of inciting others to commit such acts.
Come.
- WHERE?
Where are my children?
Where... Where are my children?
Where are my children?
Where, where...
(Breathing heavily)
Where are my children?
Where...
Shall I...
compare thee...
to a summer's...
- (Young Winnie): 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!
- (Prinsloo): We know about your 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.
- (Prinsloo): You are going to die in here
unless you cooperate!
- Here.
Come on.
Oh! That way.
Wait.
Where are you going?
Here. Take this to your family.
Right there. Come on.
(Whispering): Here, here.
- (Guard): Who are you talking to?
- Shhh, shhh!
(Laughing)
- 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.
- Shall I...
- Poetry? Hmm!
- ...compare thee to a summer's--
- Hey! Did I say you could get off the brick?
- Stop this!
- (Prinsloo): Put her back. Put her back!
(Winnie laughing)
That's better.
- I have rights.
(De Vries coughing)
- And?
- Nothing.
- Perhaps you're losing your touch, major.
- S-sir, if we could just apply more physical ways
of--of doing it, I think--
- Out of the question. No, out of the question.
It comes from the top.
We mustn't give her any recourse to accuse us of...
physically hurting her.
(Sighs)
Unfortunately.
- OK.
Now... carefully.
Repeat after me.
- (Guard): No talking!
- Shhh! Shhh!
Now, say after me.
So long as men can breathe
or eyes can see...
so long lives this
and this gives life to thee.
(Laughing)
(Clang)
- (Guard): Silence! - Shhh!
Wait! Wait!
No, no, come back.
(Sighs)
(Moaning)
- According to my source, she's still in solitary.
- She has been in there for 8 months.
- Hey, Mandela! Shut your mouth!
- What do they want from her?
I wish there was a way
I could send her some encouragement.
(Muttering)
- Nelson?
(Singing in Xhosa )
- (Guard): No singing!
(Continues 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?
(Continues singing )
(Door slamming)
- She's been in solitary confinement longer
than anyone's ever been before.
We haven't even allowed her to wash for, like, 5 months.
She--
She stinks.
And she won't let her suffering influence you.
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!
- (Prinsloo): Yes, sir.
- So, you want to be released?
It's 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'll stay in a nice little house with a sea view.
You'll 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? - (De Vries): Ya.
We'll find another way.
- Winnie?
- I am fine.
Give me a moment.
- Yeah, of course.
- (Girls): Mama! Mama! Mama!
- Mama! Mama! I missed you so much, Mama!
- My girls...
My girls...
(Sighs)
I missed you guys.
(Sniffs)
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!
- (Guard): No political talk! Take her away!
- We are winning, Nelson.
Keep fighting.
(Both speaking Xhosa)
Keep fighting!
Keep fighting! - I love you.
- No to lessons in Afrikaans!
- (Crowd): Viva!
- No to the language of the oppressor!
- (Crowd): Viva!
(Boy chanting, crowd chanting)
- Zindzi...
- Yes, Ma?
- Be careful.
(Phone ringing)
Child Welfare. Morning.
(Woman on phone shouting, indistinct)
What? What? I--I can't hear you.
(Girls screaming)
(Gunshot)
(Gunfire)
(Glass shattering)
Zindzi!
- Mama!
Mama!
Mama, they were shooting at us! Mama!
- What happened? What happened?
- It's my friend, Mama. He's dead!
(Sobbing)
(Helicopter passing)
- The law of nature
does not allow for parents to bury their children.
But the law of this country
goes 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!
- (Crowd): Viva!
(Crowd singing in South African language )
- This bloody woman, she'll never give up.
- And now what do you want?
- We are serving 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.
- Mama, we have to stay here for how long?
(Officer speaking Afrikaans)
(Birds chirping)
- 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.
(Bicycle bell ringing)
- 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...
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. That's a genuine offer.
- Are you one of them?
- Thank heavens, no.
- When do I start?
- Hey, man!
- 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.
- (Mary): Winnie!
(Mary laughing)
- 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...
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.
- (Mary): Oh...
- 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.
(Chuckles)
I'll send one of the girls
to get some milk from the police station.
- The police station?
- Yes. They 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...
(Man shouting, crowd cheering)
...and set them on fire.
(Screaming)
They call it "necklacing."
Of course, the security police
just love this black-on-black violence.
They say: "Ya, it's tribal, Zulus agains Xhosas."
And it proves to the world
that they will never be capable of running this country.
- We will see.
(Phone ringing)
- Hello?
When?
OK, thank you. Thank you.
The rumours are true, Ma.
They've moved him to Pollsmoor.
They're taking him 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.
- (Winnie): What is going on?
- (Nelson): 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.
(Sniffles)
Winnie...
Winnie...
I have often wondered...
what our lives would have been 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.
(Crickets chirping, dog barking)
(Gasps)
- Shhh! Shhh!
- Who are you? What do you want?
- Get out of Soweto.
You don't belong here.
- Do you know who I am?
- Of course.
Mother of the Nation,
Winnie Mandela.
(Gunshot)
(Shouting in South African language)
- 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 chairman.
- This is the UDF headquarters.
You can't go in.
- I'm going in.
- OK.
OK, OK.
- (Winnie): 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.
(Woman singing in foreign language )
- Hey, hey, hey!
(Men speaking South African language)
(Men shouting)
(Woman screaming in South African language)
(Sobbing)
- Shhh!
You won't forget the ANC
anytime soon, my friend.
(Screaming)
(Tires squealing)
- Who did this?
Why?
- (Jerry): Because of the talks
between your husband and the government.
We are surrounded by enemies.
(Tut-tuts)
Impimpi.
Don't worry, Mama.
I will find you another house.
- (Nelson): 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 report 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.
(Door slamming)
(Feedback)
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!
Amandla!
- (Crowd): Awethu!
- Viva ANC! Viva!
- (Crowd): Viva!
(Singing in South African language )
(Team starts singing )
- (Desmond Tutu): 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.
Twenty!
What has changed in this country since?
Nothing.
- You know,
I almost feel sorry for the ANC.
Huh? With friends like Winnie, who needs enemies?
(Laughing)
- He's a police spy, an informer.
- Impimpi.
- Stompie?
Are you sure?
- We have evidence, Mama.
- I don't believe it. He would never hurt me.
- Well, Alton saw him at the Pirates soccer game
talking to some policeman.
- (Winnie): You saw him?
- Yes, ma'am.
- I don't know.
(Sighs)
- OK.
(Dog barking)
Reverend, please!
(Coughs)
- Ah!
- Let him go.
- Hey, hey, hey! - I said let him go!
- This boy's 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!
- (Woman): 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.
- (Nelson): I don't know what has happened to you.
He was a child, Winnie.
A child.
- He was a police spy.
Informer. Impimpi.
- I would rather die here,
an old man alone in prison,
than to see my freedom bought
at such a cost.
- (Woman): 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 honourable 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.
- (Whispering): History will never forgive you.
- The Minister of Justice
will oversee the release of political prisoners
and the unbanning of political exiles.
We will soon announce the release date
of Mr. Nelson Mandela.
- 27 years.
- It has been a long time.
- And thanks to you,
I was able to survive it.
I owe you a debt of gratitude
that I may never be able to repay.
(Footsteps approaching, knocking)
- 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 part 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.
- (Man): Mr. President!
(Reporters shouting, indistinct)
- (Woman on TV): 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...
- Stompie. Winnie.
Winnie. Stompie.
Fuck you!
Fuck you all!
Fuck you!
- (Man): There she is! There she is!
(Crowd stops talking)
- (Woman): Viva, Winnie Mandela! - (Women): Viva!
- Good morning, Mrs. Mandela.
Mrs. Mandela, as you are aware,
this commission is dedicated to healing the wounds
caused by apartheid.
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.
(Button clicks)
- 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.
- (Woman): Mrs. Mandela?
Mrs. Mandela?
Mrs. Mandela...
(Man singing in foreign language on record player )
- (Nelson): Winnie...
- (Man): Smile for the camera.
Tell me, what would you do?
Tell me what you'd do for it
If you saw a burning flame
Would you walk right through for it?
Would you die for it?
Would that be too much?
Tell me now
Would you bleed for love?
Would you bleed for love?
Would you lay down your life?
Would you give it all?
Would you beg and crawl?
Would you fall upon the knife?
Would you bleed for love?
For love
Would you do anything?
Would you bleed for me?
Tell me how far you'd go
How far would you go for it?
Tell me I need to know
Would you sell your soul for it?
Would you give your last breath
And still not give enough?
Tell me now
Would you bleed for love?
Would you bleed for love?
Would you lay down your life?
Would you give it all?
Would you beg and crawl?
Would you fall upon the knife?
Would you bleed for love?
For love
Would you do anything?
Would you bleed for me?
'Cause I'll do anything you ask
Walk barefoot over broken glass
That's the truth
I would bleed for you
I would bleed for love
I would lay down my life
I would give it all
I would beg and crawl
I would fall upon the knife
I would bleed for love
For love
Would you do anything?
Tell me now
Would you bleed for love?
Would you lay down your life?
Would you beg and crawl?
Would you fall upon the knife?
Would you bleed for love?
For love
Would you do anything?
Oh, would you bleed for love?
Would you bleed for love?
Would you bleed
For me?