Chapter 14 - The Last Target
When Detective Dube told me I was going to be arrested, I didn't run.
That was the first thing I noticed about myself.
The old Sbu would have disappeared.
Changed his number.
Found someone willing to hide him.
Perhaps threatened anyone who stood in his way.
But I remained seated.
I looked at the detective.
"What happens now?"
"You'll be taken into custody, and the legal process will begin."
I nodded.
"Can I call Nango?"
She permitted me to make the call.
Nango answered almost immediately.
"Hey, babe."
I closed my eyes.
Her voice sounded so normal.
So full of love.
For one terrible second, I wanted to lie.
I wanted to tell her everything was fine.
Instead, I said:
"Nango, I need you to listen carefully."
She went quiet.
"What happened?"
"The police are arresting me."
Silence.
Then a small, broken sound.
"Oh, Sbu."
"I told you this might happen."
"I know."
"I need you to understand something."
She began crying.
"What?"
"I'm not running."
Another silence.
Then she whispered:
"I'm proud of you for facing it."
Those words nearly destroyed me.
Because I didn't feel brave.
I felt ashamed.
I felt frightened.
I felt the full weight of every decision that had brought me here.
And for the first time, I understood that real change wasn't about convincing people I was a better man.
It was about accepting consequences even when they cost me everything I wanted.
My case moved through the courts.
My attorney explained the charges, the evidence, and the possible outcomes.
I cooperated with the investigation and admitted my responsibility for the crimes I had committed.
That included my role in the operation that led to Sipho Mbatha's death.
His family had spent years wondering what happened.
They deserved answers.
During one hearing, his younger sister entered the courtroom.
I recognized her from a photograph.
Her name was Lerato.
She sat quietly in the gallery, watching me.
When the proceedings paused, she approached with permission.
"Are you Sibusiso Maseko?"
I stood.
"Yes."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Do you remember my brother?"
I swallowed.
"Every day."
She shook her head.
"That's not an answer."
"His name was Sipho Mbatha."
Her expression changed.
"He was thirty-two years old. He had two children. He used to sing while he cooked."
I looked down.
"I know."
"No, you don't."
She stepped closer.
"You know his name. You know what happened to him. But you don't know what his children went through waiting for him to come home."
I couldn't speak.
She continued.
"My mother died without knowing why her son disappeared."
Tears burned my eyes.
"I'm sorry."
Lerato stared at me.
"Your apology doesn't bring him back."
"I know."
"And I don't forgive you."
I nodded.
"You don't have to."
She studied me for a moment.
Then she asked:
"Will you tell the truth about what happened?"
"Yes."
"All of it?"
"All of it."
She wiped her eyes.
"Then at least give his children that."
After she left, I sat alone for a long time.
I had spent years thinking about my own guilt.
But guilt wasn't the same as accountability.
And remorse wasn't a substitute for justice.
I had caused real pain.
Pain that couldn't be repaired simply because I had fallen in love.
In the months that followed, I testified fully.
I gave investigators information about the people I'd worked with.
I described the crimes I had witnessed and those I had participated in.
I didn't ask them to pretend I had been innocent.
Meanwhile, Radebe's prosecution continued.
Witness testimony, financial evidence, and the recorded threats supported the case against him and his associates.
Nomusa also faced the consequences of her actions.
Eventually, both Radebe and Nomusa were convicted in proceedings involving their respective crimes.
The financial recovery process continued under court supervision, with efforts made to return misappropriated funds to the housing trust.
Nango attended the proceedings.
She cried when her mother was sentenced.
But she didn't withdraw her testimony.
Zanele remained beside her.
So did Mdu.
And Goba.
For once, none of them ran away.
When my own sentencing hearing approached, I told Nango she didn't have to attend.
She looked almost offended.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Because this is going to hurt."
She took my hand.
"Sbu, I'm not here because I believe you should escape punishment."
"I know."
"I'm here because I love you, and I want you to become the man you keep saying you want to be."
I looked away.
"You could move on."
She remained silent.
"You could find someone who doesn't come with all this."
She gently lifted my chin.
"Don't decide my future for me."
My eyes filled with tears.
"I'm scared of losing you."
"I know."
"And I don't want you to waste your life waiting for me."
She studied my face.
"Then don't ask me to make a promise about years we haven't lived yet."
I nodded.
"Okay."
She brushed a tear from my cheek.
"We'll take the truth one day at a time."
On the morning of sentencing, I entered the courtroom knowing that my life was about to change.
Nango sat in the gallery.
Zanele sat beside her.
Mdu and Goba were there too.
Across the room sat Lerato Mbatha.
She met my eyes.
I lowered my head respectfully.
Then the judge entered.
Everyone stood.
I listened as the court reviewed the evidence, the harm caused, my admissions, and my cooperation.
There were no excuses left.
No promises that could undo what I'd done.
The judge looked directly at me.
"Mr. Maseko, your willingness to cooperate is relevant, but it does not erase the seriousness of your conduct."
I nodded.
"I understand, Your Honor."
I looked toward Nango one last time.
She was crying silently.
But she didn't look away.
Then the judge raised the sentencing papers.
May you like
And the moment I'd feared for so long finally arrived.
"Mr. Maseko, this court sentences you to—"
