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What is your surname?"
"What is your purpose?"
"To visit Sydney Maree."
"When will you leave?"
"By two o'clock."
The policeman stamps the form: Permission is hereby granted to Mineer Smith to enter the Bantu Areas under the jurisdiction of the Board.
"Why do I have to do this?"
"Because some of the blacks don't like us whites. And some people want to come into the township and stir them up. It's these people we must watch, the people who don't belong...."
June 1976. At 5 a.m., in the darkness, 19-year-old Sydney Maree jerked awake. He sat upright on the dining-room couch that was his bed and felt for his running clothes. It was winter in South Africa, and the thin blood of his heritage exaggerated the chill.