The world knows Nelson Mandela as a saint of peace.
I know him as the man whose letters burned a grandmother alive in my village.
In 1986, I was fifteen when I watched an old woman — frail, defenseless, innocent — dragged from her hut after a funeral. A tyre was shoved over her chest, petrol poured, and a match struck. She screamed until the fire swallowed her voice. The crowd sang and danced, calling it “liberation.” I stood there, frozen, and smelled the burning flesh.
Her only “crime” was being the mother of a son accused of being an informer. No trial. No proof. Just suspicion. Just vengeance. Just fire.
And behind it all were the letters — secret messages smuggled from Nelson Mandela’s prison cell, written in code, urging his foot soldiers to punish “traitors” and intensify the struggle. The ANC called it revolution. I call it murder.
This book is not polite history. It is not another hymn to Mandela. It is testimony — raw, unsanitized, and unforgettable. I lived it. I saw it. I carry it still.
Nelson Mandela and the ANC: The Grandmother They Burned Alive — A Personal Eyewitness Account rips away the myth of Mandela the saint and exposes the hidden cost of South Africa’s so-called liberation: the innocent lives destroyed, the families shattered, and the truth buried beneath decades of propaganda.
If you think you know Mandela, prepare to be shaken.
If you believe the ANC was the people’s liberator, confront the fire behind the slogans.
If you value truth more than myth, this book is for you.
I was there.
I saw it.
I smelled the burning flesh.
And now, after decades of silence, I will not let the world forget.