The Uhuru Code

By Steven van Wyk

The political situation in the country is like a ticking bomb looking for a time and place to explode.
The situation is more volatile when Lucky Zuberi, leader of the official opposition party in South Africa, instigated his followers to get rid of the white man in the country. He is of the opinion that freedom in this country is only possible without white people. He preaches that in his speeches.
This resulted in a sharp increase in farm attacks and the murder was brutal. A right-wing group killed Lucky Zuberi. The gospel that Zuberi preached now became the gospel of his followers which they brutally preach.
His gospel was clear but simple ... ‘kill the white man.’
This resulted in a white genocide with an open hunting season declared in the country on all whites who had to hastily flee.
Schalk Scheepers, a well-known architect fled with his family and hid in caves in the Free-state province close to the Lesotho border.
Schalk got involved in the Uhuru Resistance Movement to fight this evil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steven van Wyk
• Release date: Jun 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215661499

Steven van Wyk

Although it's been a life long dream to be an author, it only became reality in this late stage. So, lets see what happens.Despite the multitude of stories and ideas spinning through my head, urging me to write faster, I've only completed two titles thus far.My debut, UHURU, have just been published. My second, Reboot, are in the final stages and should be released very soon.About myself? What is there to say?

Book preview

THE

UHURU

CODE

Steven van Wyk

PROLOGUE

I would never forget that day ... The day it all began.

The bloodcurdling screams ... the fear and panic that made everyone run like headless chickens in different directions.

Every time I thought back to that day, I felt the fear building up inside me again. The fear grabbed me from the inside and threatened to tear me open. That day, like a coward, I hid under the rubble of the building with my daughter while the bastards raped Mrs. Myrtle Ferreira, my next-door neighbor two meters away from us.

I remember her looking up and fixing me with her eyes. I remembered the accusation in her eyes as she cried out desperately to me.

Please ... help me ...

I wanted to help her, but ... I was afraid. Afraid that the scum responsible for these barbaric atrocities would see me. Afraid that they would discover Lientjie and me under the rubble ... I trembled at the thought of what those bastards would do to Lientjie if they learned of her presence.

I hold tighter onto Lientjie and crawled deeper into the rubble. Mrs. Ferreira’s screams became a mere whisper ...

Her eyes still locked onto mine ... hopeful ...

* * * * * *

CHAPTER 1

Soon, in the near future.

Bloemfontein – South Africa.

It is a weakness not to possess power. The powerful despised this weakness. To possess real power is to control the world through the minds of the powerless. Power is earned through the decree of sacrifice.

It was a cold, crisp winter day in Bloemfontein when the wheels of the yellow cab rolled slowly through the gates of Nomzub Pharmaceutical Company and stopped in front of the security gate that led to the parking zone in front of the office building. Instead of driving through, both the passenger and cab driver was told to get out of the vehicle and continue on foot towards the side door of the security building about thirty meters further. The taxi was taken through to the parking area by the security personnel.

The tall man stepped out of the cab and immediately reached for his coat, which he pulled over his suit. The sharp, icy wind was not cold enough to necessitate the thick coat over the three-piece suit. Shaun Ford felt a thin layer of sweat on his skin under the clothing but decided against taking the coat off.

He was of sturdy build with more than the desired fat build-up. Despite his excess weight, he moved nimbly and with a springy step. His shoulders did not sag at all. The suit and coat he wore matched his big body perfectly. His red hair and ice-blue eyes had always been his intimidation weapon.

A heated argument ensued as Shaun Ford was x-rayed and an ankle bracelet placed around his left leg. Only then was he allowed to go to the reception with a security escort. ‘The security in this place is overdone,’ thought Shaun Ford. ‘It is unnecessary to imitate Fort Knox for what they’re doing here.’ The thick stack of security forms he had to fill in baffled him but he did not comment. Time was busy running out. Forty-five minutes later all formalities were completed and a security guard escorted him to reception.

Good morning sir. How can I help you? the lady at the front desk greeted him with a pleasant voice and smiling face.

I am Shaun Ford from the CIA. I have an appointment with Professor Nombeko Zuberi, he said. His voice was as cold as his eyes.

I am sorry, Mister Ford. The professor has informed us that she is running a little late. Please take a seat. She will be with you shortly, the receptionist said.

Her words frustrated him deep inside. The CIA agent was furious, but wordlessly turned around and sat down in the chair that was obscured by the large potted plant. What angered Ford most was that he was being kept waiting unnecessarily. Annoyed he stared at his escort that took a seat three meters across from him without taking his eyes off the CIA agent.

For the next forty minutes, Ford tried to look past the expensive paintings through the murky corrugated glass panels into Professor Nombeko Zuberi’s office. Although he could only make out faint, shapeless shadows on the other side, it was clear that she was not as busy as she would have him believe. He suppressed the anger rising inside him as he glanced at the clock on the wall for the umpteenth time.

Ford’s experience at the CIA taught him to summarize and predict people’s behavior. He recognized Professor Zuberi’s character traits such as arrogance, stubbornness, dominance, and cold ruthlessness. It was the same as his. That’s why he was looking forward to today’s showdown. So far, he had not met anyone who could match his cold and aloof nature.

Annoyed Shaun Ford looked at the clock. He already waited an hour and ten minutes. It was easier said than done to suppress the anger that pent up inside him, but he had no choice. This was his only chance to win Nombeko Zuberi’s trust. The professor was on the verge of making a breakthrough based on the MK -Ultra program that the CIA had been running since the 1950s. In short, MK -Ultra was an experiment conducted on humans to find the most effective drug for ‘mind control.’ Professor Zuberi claimed that she might have found a permanent solution using extracts of the ‘borrachero plant’ found only in the rain forests of Brazil. The CIA wanted to work with her to conduct experiments and find a way to harvest the borrachero plant anywhere in the world.

* * * * * *

Mr. Ford? Ford looked up and saw the beautiful girl standing in front of him in her short dress. The sight of her beautiful legs right in front of him began to calm the anger within him.

Yes ... I am ... I mean, that’s me. His eyes were still glued to her legs. When he lifted his gaze to her face, he saw her smile.

Professor Zuberi can see you now. Please follow me. She turned and walked toward the frosty glass panels. Even from the back, the view the beauty offered was not too bad.

Shaun Ford walked past the petite goddess into the office and took one more look at the stunning girl before she closed the door behind him. The security escort sat down in the chair outside the office door. The curtains in the office were drawn and it created a dark, gloomy atmosphere. The only light in the room was the reading lamp on the desk, which cast a spot of light on the documents and the professor.

Nombeko Zuberi ignored the CIA agent’s outstretched hand and peered at him with cold eyes over her thin reading glasses. She beckoned him with her left hand to sit across from her at the desk, then continued her work as if he were not there. After a few minutes, she closed the file in front of her and removed her reading glasses. The spectacle container and folder were placed symmetrically with the other items on the desk. Only then did she look up and stare intently at the American for a minute or two without saying a word.

Shaun Ford had a way of intimidating people with his cold eyes and it was his weapon to instill fear in his opponents. His eyes created the illusion that they penetrated and scratched around deep inside your soul when he stared at you. For the first time in his life, he was on the receiving end. The woman on the other side of the desk appeared to be a master in the same field. On the contrary, she surpassed him with her eyes that stared at him relentlessly yet probingly. It made him nervous and that sent a chill down his spine. He realized how cold and dangerous this woman could be.

Despite that cruel and cold-blooded look in her eyes, she was extremely attractive. ‘Someone who aroused lust in multitudes of men,’ thought Shaun as he let his eyes slide briefly over her body. He hesitated a few moments longer than necessary over her firm breasts. To him, she was predominantly beautiful and the fact that they came from different cultural backgrounds was something that did not cross his mind at all. The look on her face implied that she was aware of what was going on in his mind. It made him feel more humiliated.

Mister Ford, I trust that you’ve compiled a comprehensive report, her voice broke the silence. What was supposed to be a question sounds more like a command that she uttered at him. An assignment with an urgency attached to it.

I did indeed, Shaun Ford replied smugly as he fumbled in confusion to unlock his briefcase’s lock mechanism. It tortured him to admit that for the first time, he was not in control of himself at all. This woman unnerved him. With shaky hands, he removed the report from his briefcase and pushed it across the desk in her direction. She flicked through the report, closes it, then places it symmetrically with objects on the desk.

A lot of detail, I see, she replied. When she looked up, her eyes again nailed him to his chair. This unsettled him a great deal. It will be a waste of unnecessary and valuable time to read through this report now. Go ahead, Mister Ford. She pointed her fingers in his direction, give me a concise briefing on the contents of your report.

I-I-In short ... P-p-professor, w ... w-what you’ve ... re-re-requested is-is-is p-p-possible, he stuttered. His thoughts scattered around in an attempt to regain control over himself. He knew it was a losing battle, he already lost this round. She was the one in charge. Experiments proved it is possible to cultivate the borrachero plant successfully anywhere in the world provided you simulate the humidity and temperature conditions of its natural habitat. All the criteria together with the soil analysis, composition as well as water contents during various phases of growth are included in the report you have in front of you. What makes the report so conclusive is that it even suggests the actual required level of ultraviolet exposure should you choose to cultivate it indoors

She lowered her eyes to the document before her but took her time as she paged through it. Splendid, she said about twenty minutes later as she closed the document and looked up at him as his eyes scrutinized her breasts. Her facial expression spelled out it annoyed her as she continued. I assume that a similar report was already issued to the Director of the CIA?

The expression that dominated her face was a question mark visible in her eyes. That, together with the left eyebrow she raised, was her way to demand an honest answer to her question.

Not yet. I do have a briefing Wednesday morning with the Director in Langley, he replied as he rubbed his briefcase with his right hand. This served as confirmation that the CIA Director’s report was in there.

I see, she said as she picked up the phone and keyed in a number, Snakes, can you come to my office? I have Mister Ford from the CIA here. She placed the phone back on the receiver and got up. She opened the curtains. The light that poured into the room was blinding. Nombeko stood with her back to the CIA agent and looked out the window. She turned around when the thin skinny man entered her office.

Snakes Ndlovo’s real name is Mumbi Ndlovo. It was one of the reasons why he hated his parents that much. To be baptized ‘Mumbi’ was the biggest humiliation in his life. His nickname ‘Snakes,’ was derived from his narrow face, his hollow cheeks, and his eyes that are set far apart. So far apart that it created the illusion that it was on the side of his head. His sharp eyes missed nothing and always peered around like a snake that looked for prey. Even his nature was similar to that of a snake. There was strong speculation that he was responsible for the brutal murder of both his parents when he was twelve years old. After all these years it remained stories.

Mister Ford, Nombeko said as she made eye contact with the CIA agent again. Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Ndlovo, our head of security. Please hand your briefcase over to Mr. Ndlovo. It seemed that her words horrified Shaun Ford. He desperately tried to cling to his briefcase.

When the hand of Snakes moved towards his firearm, Shaun reluctantly handed over the briefcase. The search Snakes conducted through the suitcase was professional and methodical. Using the screwdriver set he produced from his jacket’s inner pocket, he removed the hard drive of the laptop and placed it on the desk.

Skillfully Snakes opened all secret compartments in the briefcase from which he removed pocketbooks, memory cards, passports, and notes. He placed the passports on the laptop. With a sharp blade, he opened the lining of the briefcase to ensure there were no hidden compartments. The useless laptop and passports are placed back in the briefcase which is handed to Shaun Ford.

I’ve already gone through your luggage in the taxi that is waiting for you in the parking area. Unfortunately, I had to confiscate all your memory cards and documents, said Snakes to the American before he turned around to address Nombeko. I’m sure that’s all. He placed all confiscated items on the desk in front of her.

Thank you, Mr. Ford. I think that concludes our business together. Your taxi will take you back to the airport, she said. She took a thick envelope from the safe behind a painting in the corner and dropped it on the briefcase. This is your final numeration as agreed for services rendered.

* * * * * *

Why? Shaun Ford asked powerlessly. Why are you doing this?

Why? To be honest, I’ve paid you a lot of money for the information. All the costs including traveling and accommodation were paid by myself. It belongs to me now. To nobody else. Fully paid for by myself and only myself.

In his mind, he cursed himself for being so careless. He, who always duplicated his information, failed this time to make backup copies of his data and reports. He realized he made two major errors. It was standard CIA procedure to directly store all activities and information in the ‘Cloud‘, but recent cyber attacks on his laptop during which sensitive information was leaked, prevented him from connecting to the internet. The second error was trusting the woman in front of him with her intimidating eyes.

She stood up and extended her hand to him. I would love to entertain you some more, Mister Ford, but unfortunately you have a flight to catch. You will be under constant surveillance at the airport as well as on the plane to ensure that you reach your destination safely. In that envelope, you will also find your flight details back to Brazil later this afternoon. Mr. Ndlovo, please make sure Mr. Ford leaves the premises and gets safely into his taxi waiting for him downstairs.

Back to Brazil? Shaun Ford asked astonished. There must be some mistake. I’m on my way to the United States.

It is in the interest of all of us to declare that this afternoon’s meeting never took place. All surveillance footage and records of you departing in Brazil as well as your arrival in South Africa have already been destroyed. The same will happen this afternoon with the flight back to Brazil. For all practical purposes, you have never arrived in South Africa yet. One or two hours after your arrival tomorrow morning in Brazil, I will contact your superiors to inform them that you never pitched up for our meeting. The CIA director will agree that your absence is enough ground to nullify the MK-Ultra agreement between our two countries.

Snakes took him by the arm but Nombeko called them back just before they reach the door. Mr. Ford, would you be so kind as to remove your jacket and your ring?

Surprised, Shaun Ford turned around, … but why?

I have reason to believe that your ring acts as the microphone that feeds the tiny recorder built into the buttons of your jacket.

Shaun looked at her in total disbelief. Then, for the second time in one day, he noticed an expression on her face that reflects her feelings. A big smile formed on her lips which quickly spread across her entire face. Shaun Ford realized he underestimated her. ‘This woman is good,’ he thought. ‘The X-Ray might have pointed out the recording devices.’ He now understood the overcooked security system.

How did you know about the ring and buttons? Ford wanted to know.

I didn’t, but a little birdie told me about it. I suspected the possibility when you entered my office dressed like an Eskimo. Your fiddling to activate the recorder halfway through our meeting confirmed my suspicion. Have a nice trip, Mister Ford. The smile on her face looked like it could have gone right around her head but was prevented by her ears.

Snakes guided the CIA agent by the arm out of the room to his taxi in the parking area.

* * * * * *

On the balcony of her office, Nombeko Zuberi felt the crispy cold carried from the east by the wind. She pictured the snow-covered tips of the mountains surrounding her holiday home in Lesotho this time of the year.

She braced herself against the cold as she watched the taxi that slowly drove through the gate and turned left onto the road towards the airport. Her face beamed with the realization that she concluded an essential stage of her master plan. She eliminated possible American meddling.

Nombeko had ambition. Great ambition. From childhood, she had the intention to reach the highest level in life and nobody will stop her do that, whatever the cost. Not even the discrimination and burdens she was born with during the apartheid era, could hold her back. It was sometimes necessary to crush or exterminate resistance that comes in her path. To her, it was all about power. Absolute power and nothing less.

Nombeko Zuberi was a Professor attached to the University of the Free State and obtained her Master’s degree in medicine. Although she was involved with the University, she also owns her own pharmaceutical company in Bloemfontein. At Nomzub Pharmaceutical, she had the freedom to do research and experiment with new medicines as well as their production.

Snakes entered her office and stood behind her. He folded his arms around her and pulled her tight against him.

See you tonight, he asked softly as he kissed her lightly on the neck. She turned her head and planted a kiss on his cheek before she unwrapped herself.

"I cannot. Tonight is my beloved husband’s first speech as the newly elected leader of the PFP, the People’s People Freedom Party. I believe you will understand that his loving wife must be there to support him in the big political step he is taking. She saw the look of disappointment on his face and continued, ... but if it’s any consolation, I’m free the rest of the afternoon."

Nombeko wanted to work through the report that the CIA agent compiled, but for the sake of peace, it had to wait till tomorrow. She locked her office door from the inside and stood with her back to him so he could unzip her tight-fit dress.

What she did was not out of love or any feeling she had for the man, but out of fear. She knew that Snakes would not hesitate to get rid of her if he believed that she no longer served him any purpose. She felt nothing for the man but knew that he was madly in love with her. As long as she played along and kept him close where she could watch him, she would be safe. Unfortunately, he was an important pawn in the dangerous game she was engaged in. A pawn that had to stay on the board at this stage. Maybe one day she might sacrifice that pawn if it would mean a win for her.

* * * * * *

CHAPTER 2

The big posture of Lucky Zuberi paced up and down in the cramped dressing room of the television studio. He was nervous. When he was nervy he panicked and had to be busy. He marched up and down as he tried to recite his speech but his mind was a void filled with, well, emptiness. There was nothing. That caused him to panic more. Twice during the last forty-five minutes, he tried to open the door to just get out of there, but the door was locked.

My nerves will never hold. I told you since the beginning that I’m not even worthy to be a politician’s arse. I need a cigarette now, said Lucky as he tried to dig out a cigarette from the tattered soft cigarette pack with rickety fingers. His clumsy hands could not hold onto the cigarette pack which fell onto the expensive carpet. He picked it up the cigarettes with an offensive four-lettered word.

Are you out of your mind? You’re not allowed to smoke in here, said Nombeko and snatched the cigarette from his lips as he managed to produce a flame with the almost empty lighter. She crumpled it ³and tossed it into the bin that stood in the corner under the ‘NO SMOKING’ sign.

‘You’re a bitch.’ The unspoken words went through Lucky’s mind but stayed locked as a thought. Sometimes he wondered what the heck he was doing when he married her. He tried the door once again as an escape option but it remained shut. Lucky had to keep himself busy and removed the shreds of paper with notes from his shirt pocket. It confused him when he tried to sort them in order. The fear within him wanted to suffocate him. He realized that he couldn’t remember a word of his speech. That caused him to be overtaken by panic and he struggled to draw air into his lungs.

Lucky Zuberi was a tall man and his body contained more muscle than fat. He had a very dark complexion. His voice was a deep base that created the impression he was loud. People feared him. Yet, Lucky had a small heart. A man with deep feelings and emotions. It did not take much to send him over the edge into panic mode. Lucky tried the door again but it was still locked. Frantic, he fumbled with his speech notes.

Leave the speech, said Nombeko in her typical cold voice as she grabbed the notes and tossed them torn-up into the garbage bin. Tonight you are going to speak from the heart. You are going to show the people what is in your heart and not what is written on pieces of paper. From this moment you will also have a new image. The image of a savior. Take off your tie.

A dumbstruck Lucky removed his ‘lucky tie’ chosen this afternoon by himself with care. Nothing ever went wrong in the past the times he wore this tie. In the past, he would have strongly protested against removing this tie, but the anxiety currently reigning within him, had brought him to a point where he no longer cared at all. He could not even remember his speech and no tie would save him from this situation. Lucky tie or not.

It looks much better, my dear, she said when she stood back and looked at the brilliant white tie she tied around his neck. In her left hand, she had a small bottle of white powder which she sprinkled on his tie.

This surprised Lucky. Before he could say anything, she lifted the white tie and blew the powder into his face. He gasped for breath and drew the powder through his nostrils and mouth deep into his lungs. It was odorless and tasteless and only caused a slight irritation in the back of his throat.

Tonight you will hate the white man with a passion. In your speech you are going to express that intense hatred toward the white man that you now carried around in your heart, she commanded him the moment the expression in his eyes changed. You are going to tell the people of this country that they have a life without the white people. Your entire speech, everything you have to say, will appear on the screen in front of you. Let your whole being become one with those words. Make the hatred for the white man your agenda.

Sixty seconds ... the call came from the studio and immediately someone assisted Lucky into position while a second person removed the white powder residue from his cheeks with a soft brush.

Lucky had barely taken his place when the loud voice of the production manager rang in his ears. Ten seconds ... seven ... six ... five ... four ... three ... two ... instead of the final count, Lucky got signaled that he was in control.

He cleared his throat as he felt the hatred established and grew from within him. A hatred so intense that it threatened to consume his entire inner core from the inside. He looked at the text that appeared on the screen in front of him and immediately he felt the words become one with the hatred that radiated from within him. The words became in his heart a matter of conviction. He felt the anger building up in him and it threatened to boil over. Fiercely he began his speech as the words on the screen started to move slowly to keep up with what he said.

Comrades ... I am Lucky Zuberi, the newly elected leader of the PFP, the People’s Freedom Party, the symbol of freedom for every black man in this country ... where I stand before you tonight, I want to convey a message of freedom to you. A message of freedom for every Black man in this country. The appropriate word for our freedom is Uhuru in the Swahili language ... UHURU ...

The volume of his deep base voice filled the room. So deep that it grabbed the attention of every viewer. Lucky looked straight into the camera to make his speech a personal matter between him and each individual viewer.

It’s over ... there is nothing left ... Lucky Zuberi spat out the words as he looked deep into the lens of the television camera. So deep that the intense racial hatred that danced within him was visible worldwide through his eyes. The white man has no place left for pity in our hearts or our minds ...

His deep rumbling bass voice trembled with passion and anger. He took a few sips of water as his words sank in. The sudden silence was allowed on purpose to overwhelm the minds of billions of viewers across the world to pursue them to hold their breaths in anticipation. Breath that might be exhaled audibly when he continued his speech. The sudden loud voice dispelled everything in the background and started to scribe on hearts once again. Writing to life or death.

It's time to get rid of the white people.

* * * * * *

In the television studio, the thirty-one-year-old Nombeko Zuberi managed to take her eyes off Lucky for a few brief moments and glanced at herself in the mirror. The sensual woman winked and looked back at her from inside the mirror which made her feel good. The dress she wore revealed more than desired. She had a beautiful body that was desired by many men and that made her feel wanted. Nombeko dialed a number and pressed the mobile phone to her ear.

Can you hear me? Nombeko spoke softly. Lucky’s deafening voice in the background made her voice almost inaudible.

Yes-yes ... I can hear you, answered Snakes Ndlovo. I’m looking at his speech. I must admit, the man is good. Somewhat different than from the insecure Lucky Zuberi we know.

The new formula works, she said. Her voice quivered with excitement. As you’ve said, it’s like he’s undergone a total transformation. He became a different person. The type of person with hatred, anger, and emotions that I created inside him with my voice. That’s exactly the outcome I was hoping for, to control his mind.

I never doubted for a moment that it would work, says Snakes. "It is just as we planned and hoped for. Now we can move the last piece into position to force checkmate."

"My planning for the past two years was built around the fact that ‘Devils Breath-MK2 ‘ works, she said with an irritation that is prominent in her voice. Why would it be any different?"

Does this mean that the final phase of our plan will kick in earlier? The slurred words on his tongue told her that he already had a few whiskeys too many in his system.

NO! her reaction was stern. She glanced at the studio crew and realized she might have spoken too loud. Don’t be too hasty. There are still things to put in place, she whispered frantically into the phone. She hated it when he wanted to take over.

Tests like ... ? I think it’s unnecessary to wait any longer. The sooner the final phase of the plan kicks in, the better.

"You know that we only got the case study from the CIA today which will enable us to grow the borrachero plant ourselves locally. It will take us at least two to three months to build up enough stock of the Devil’s Breath drug. Then there are quite a few more tests to make sure that the drug meets all requirements." One of those test runs would be on the way home later tonight with Lucky as the guinea pig.

Absolute power was finally within her reach. The road ahead of her seemed clear to the winning post. She felt herself moving up another notch on the Power rankings.

Nombeko had to admit that her plans fell into place more easily than she anticipated. The new improved product exceeded her wildest expectations even though it was still in the development phase. She already gave the green light for full-scale production to begin this afternoon. This caused a feeling of victory and a great sense of achievement rose within her. Following all the years of careful planning and research, she could see the end goal now that all the pieces started to jointly fit together. All the planning was about to come to fulfillment, and she was confident that it would only be a matter of formality.

Will I see you later tonight? Snakes asked with a slurry tongue.

"I would love to, but tonight is the big test of the effect of ‘Devil’s Breath-MK2’ on my beloved husband. It may take longer than planned. Who knows, maybe I’ll surprise you." She ended the connection and turned her attention back to Lucky and his speech.

It was at times like these that she wondered why she ever involved Snakes Ndlovo in her master plan. Her relationship with him was built on fear. When the time is right, she would make him part of the lost statistics. For now, she needed him to do the dirty work.

* * * * * *

There were two things in life that Schalk Scheepers was fanatical about. One was his rugby. He was a staunch Cheetah supporter in the true sense of the word. He never really played the game himself, but when it came to rugby there was