No Fear No Favour No Corrupt Politics please........

30 January 2015 Last updated at 16:21 GMT

CARICATURE OF EUGENE DE KOCK - B COX

It is not easy to find Vlakplaas - the small farm where some of South Africa's most notorious apartheid-era murders took place.

On a dirt road about 20km (12 miles) west of the capital, Pretoria, I pulled over and waved down a passing pickup truck to ask for directions.

"Vlakplaas? Sure - it's just before the river, on the left," said a bearded white farmer. "But there were no murders there."

It was an early reminder that some white South Africans have yet to acknowledge the crimes carried out by their old government, and by one particularly notorious policeman - Eugene de Kock.

De Kock was in charge of a death squad that operated out of Vlakplaas, and was responsible for the abduction, torture, and murder of dozens of black activists in what would turn out to be the dying days of the apartheid era.

'Scary at night'

“Start Quote

We have to reconcile and forgive him”

Morris HlongwaneGuard at Vlakplaas

After the advent of democracy, De Kock confessed to many of his crimes at South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC).

But although he was granted amnesty for some offences, the courts concluded that his behaviour warranted two life sentences and an additional 212 years in prison.

"If they didn't burn them, then they shot them. If they didn't shoot them, they hanged them on that tree. And if they didn't hang them, they threw them in a pit and put dirt on them," said Morris Hlongwane, who helps to guard the Vlakplaas farm these days.

It is an eerily overgrown place, and "scary at night," said Mr Hlongwane, pointing to some bones he said were human.

I told him what the white farmer had said about "no murders" and he laughed and shrugged.

So should Eugene De Kock be released from prison now? I asked him.

"Um.... yes. He has to be released. We have reconciliation. We have to reconcile and forgive him," he said.

Then-South African President Nelson Mandela (L) receives a five volumes of Truth and Reconciliation Commission final report from Archbishop Desmond Tutu, in Pretoria 29 October 1998

The TRC was set up by Nelson Mandela and chaired by Archbishop Desmond Tutu (R)

What about the others - the bosses who gave the orders and never faced justice?

"That's the problem. That's the problem. He was not alone."

A few days earlier, I had asked the same question of Sandra Mama.

In 1992 she had been newly married to an anti-apartheid activist named Glenack Mama, when he was gunned down by De Kock and had weapons planted by his body.

Nelson Mandela had already been released from jail and black-majority power seemed inevitable.

De Kock's unit was busy trying to undermine that process.

Forgiveness

"One man is taking the fall. Eugene didn't just wake up and think 'I'm going to do all this.' The others got away with it. South Africa as a nation has still got a long way to go," said Ms Mama.

But in September last year, as part of the parole process, De Kock began reaching out to some of his victims' families.

Ms Mama's husband activist Glenack Mama was killed by De Kock in 1992

A photo shows the tall prisoner, in his orange uniform, flanked by Sandra Mama and her children.

"This guy has done things that boggle the mind. I was face to face with this killer. It was so dark. [But] when he said sorry you could really see that he was genuine. I really believe he reached out because he wants to help, not just because he wants parole," said Mrs Mama.

"Eugene is just a product of the state. He's taken a fall for his government."

“Start Quote

I don't feel that justice has been done”

Lindani MlangeniA brother of one of Eugene de Kock's victims

Mrs Mama's daughter, Candace, said: "He was stoic. Very controlled. But he has a dry, sarcastic sense of humour."

She asked De Kock if he had forgiven himself.

"He dabbed his eyes and looked down, then he looked me in the eye and said, 'When you've done what I've done how do you forgive yourself.'"

Partly because of those family encounters, as well as his co-operation with investigators still searching for the remains of other apartheid-era murders, De Kock was granted parole on Friday.

He will be released quietly, away from the cameras, and is expected to continue to help investigators.

'Scapegoat'

But what about De Kock's superiors?

"Who else do you see in prison?" asked Yasmin Sooka in frustration.

She was a senior official at the TRC, but regrets the lack of any subsequent investigations of prosecutions.

Eugene de Kock at glance:

Commander of Vlakplass police unit from 1983
Confessed to hundreds of murders at the Truth and Reconciliation Commission
Nicknamed "Prime Evil" for the death-squad revelations
Sentenced to 212 years and two life terms in 1996
In 2012, Marcia Khoza publicly forgave him for killing her mother ANC activist Portia Shabangu
Served 20 years before getting parole

Eugene de Kock: Profile of an apartheid assassin

"You cannot have one person in prison being held accountable for a whole state," she said, arguing that the decision to make De Kock a "scapegoat" had to have been an orchestrated policy.

"The big problem with South Africa is denial. And denial particularly by white society. For most white people in our country, the 'Mandela moment' was what they all enjoyed because it rehabilitated them in terms of the international community. But how many of them have paid voluntarily into a reparations fund?" she asked.

In the giant Avalon cemetery on the edge of Soweto, Bheki Mlangeni's mother and brother tended his grave and sang a short struggle song as the rain clouds moved in.

Mr Mlangeni was a human rights lawyer killed by one of De Kock's letter bombs in 1991.

"I don't feel that justice has been done," his brother Lindani Mlangeni said.

"At least 50 years - yes he deserves that. They call him a killing machine. How can he be afraid of dying in prison? The ones who gave the orders must also go to prison, or they must at least tell their story. Maybe there will be reconciliation at the top. But what about the victims?" asked Mr Mlangeni.

Andrew HardingAfrica correspondent

Eugene de Kock parole: Has justice been done in South Africa?

30 January 2015

As death squad commander Eugene de Kock is granted parole, some South Africans are wondering whether he has taken the fall for his government, reports the BBC's Andrew Harding.

Read full article

BBC NEWS

The night Ferdi Barnard told me he killed

21 NOVEMBER 1997 STAFF REPORTER

EUGENE RILEY 21 YEARS IN UNMARKED GRAVE

THE LONE SOUTH AFRICA POLICEMEN - R.I.P. SALUTE - B COX

David Webster

In an extract from his new book, Into the heart of Darkness, journalist Jacques Pauw describes a bizarre confession from the crack-smoking hoodlum who is now on trial for Webster’s murder

His head was bouncing and hopping like a rubber ball on his broad shoulders, while clutched between his thumb and forefinger was a thin glass syringe, stuffed with a mixture of tobacco and small cocaine crystals. He had lit the pipe a minute before, and a whiff of cigarette tobacco and chemical substance was filling the car.

“It’s true. I killed him,” he suddenly said, kept quiet for a second or two, and let rip again: “It’s true. I shot him.”

“Who?” I asked him.

“David Webster.”

Sitting next to me sucking on his crack pipe was Ferdi Barnard, one of apartheid’s most infamous hoodlums, a Rambo-esque killer who moved between the criminal underworld of drug dealing, prostitution and diamond smuggling, and South Africa’s official business in the government’s dirty tricks units and death squads.

The tiny orange coal in his crack pipe glowed brightly in the afternoon light as it slowly burned down the syringe, consuming the crystals and tobacco. He blew a streak of white smoke against the front window of the car where it exploded into a million molecules.

“He flew through the air and landed on the pavement. I saw it, because I shot him. I did it.”

Before he continued, he put the pipe in his mouth again and inhaled the mixture into his lungs. “It was all that tea parties and shit. That’s why we killed him. I pulled the trigger, I shot him.”

We looked at one another. I didn’t say anything, too scared to interrupt him and stop a confession.

“I was paid a R40 000 production bonus after the killing. For a job well done. It was an approved operation and Joe Verster [then director of the Civil Co-operation Bureau] knew about everything.”

Silence again. The coal had nearly burned its way to the bottom of the pipe.

“Who were the other two people in the car with you?”

“There was only one other person.”

“Was it Eugene Riley?”

“No.”

“Chappies Maree?”

“No.”

“Calla Botha?”

He laughed. “I’m not going to say anything. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t. Make your own deduction.”

“Why don’t you confess and ask for amnesty?”

“I won’t. I won’t. I will never ask for amnesty.”

“And what about Anton Lubowski?”

“No, I didn’t kill him.”

“You told me three years ago you tried to shoot him at one stage.”

“Yes, that’s true. Everything I told you was true. But I didn’t pull the trigger.”

His pipe was finished.

“Come on.” he said, “let’s go back. People are going to think that we are two moffietjies [little gays] sitting here in the car.”

He laughed.

The last shred of normality in the lives of David Webster and his lover Maggie Friedman was a Saturday morning frolic with their dogs.

On May 1 1989, Dr David Webster, a university lecturer and a tireless anti- apartheid campaigner, was opening the back door of his van, parked in front of his house in Troyeville, Johannesburg, to let his dogs out. A car pulled up alongside him. A shotgun was fired at close range. Sixteeen coarse-grain pellets entered his body, and as he was dying, the assassin sped away.

The last words he spoke were: “I’ve been shot with a shotgun ... call an ambulance.” Less than 30 minutes later, he died.

David Webster was never a prominent figure in the struggle, but he was a passionate campaigner against detention without trial. Webster became famous among former detainees and detainees’ parents for intervening on their behalf and arranging gatherings at which people could sing, pray and be comforted. They became known as Webster’s “tea parties” and made him the subject of attention by the security forces.

In the days, weeks and months that followed, the murder of David Webster became one of the most highly publicised assassinations in the history of this country. Few murders in South Africa’s violent history have been the subject of so much publicity, investigation, suspicion, false leads and accusations.

Six months after the murder of Webster, a former narcotics bureau detective and convicted murderer by the name of Ferdi Barnard was detained under Section 29 of the Internal Security Act for the murder. Shortly afterwards, a former murder and robbery detective and provincial rugby player, Calla Botha, was also taken in.

Although they were released a few months later for lack of evidence, their detention led to the exposure of a sinister and secret death squad within the South African Defence Force (SADF) that was ominously known as the Civil Co-operation Bureau (CCB), a network of criminals, former reconnaissance soldiers and murder and robbery unit policemen who operated all over southern Africa.

Their actions ranged from shootings, bombings and poisoning to intimidation, breaking windows, stealing heart pills and hanging a monkey foetus in a tree at the residence of a Nobel Peace Prize laureate.

None of the long list of unsavoury CCB agents who was exposed was more menacing than Ferdi Barnard, an underworld gangster with a reputation as a man of violence. Those who dared to speak about his nefarious secrets were threatened and withdrew their statements. Several people once close to him are now dead or fear for their lives. That is probably why he was on the loose for so long.

October 23 1996, and in the car sitting next to me Ferdi Barnard was hiding his crack pipe under the carpet. He had called me earlier that morning to obtain a tape recording of a documentary I had produced on the life and times of his friend and former police death-squad commander, Colonel Eugene de Kock. The documentary had been screened the previous night and Barnard was one of the characters I had interviewed.

Barnard loved seeing himself on television. When he walked into the fish restaurant in Seventh Street in Melville, Johannesburg, he said: “It was good for business.” He was referring to the brothel he managed in the northern suburbs of Johannesburg. The killer had very much become one of the “kings of smut” of Johannesburg’s booming sex industry.

I had interviewed him 10 months earlier in another upper-class brothel, aptly named The Palace, in a double-storey house in the affluent northern suburbs.

For several days we had waited for Barnard at the brothel as young, “R300-a-time” hookers were whisked away in taxis to clients in plush hotel rooms, while others, showing off their wares in miniskirts and black stockings, lined the fake marble foyer of the brothel.

From time to time, a stolid-looking guard, an economy-size version of Barnard and armed with a sub-machine gun, scrutinised us. A night or two later, the same man grabbed one of the girls in the brothel’s strip club, pinned her to the ground and simulated sex with her.

One of the managers of the club, a former military intelligence operative, told me then that he was worried that Barnard was taking too much cocaine. The manager, a self-confessed drug smuggler and hit man, said that he personally supplied Barnard with several grams of cocaine every day.

Barnard finally walked into the plastic foyer of The Palace, followed by a blonde girl who obviously adored him, sat down on the couch in the casino and spoke about Eugene de Kock. His head was veering around, probably from too much cocaine.

I had met Ferdi Barnard for the first time at the end of 1992 after he had testified in the judicial inquest into the murder of David Webster. Barnard attended the court proceedings virtually every day as the lawyers representing the Webster family tried to pin the murder on him and the CCB.

On days when Barnard thought he might be called to testify, his big frame was tightly packed into a pink-brown double- breasted suit. On other days, he looked more comfortable in jeans, ankle-high white sneakers and a multi-coloured short-sleeved shirt.

When he finally took the witness stand, he denied any complicity in the murder.

In a crucial testimony, a Springbok sprinter and former employer of Barnard told the court that the CCB man had described how Webster’s body “flew through the air” after he had pulled the trigger. But afterwards he astounded the court when he said that his testimony was false and that he no longer wished to testify.

Years later, I was told that a close friend of Barnard had threatened the witness during the tea break: “You will be pissing in your pants when I’m finished with you.” The friend, a criminal and former military intelligence operative, mysteriously died in January 1994.

The inquest judge found that although Barnard was a prime suspect, no proof beyond a reasonable doubt could be established that Barnard had been responsible for the murder of David Webster.

Soon after the inquest, I met Barnard several times. On these occasions he volunteered information about the illegal weapons dealings of his close friend Colonel Eugene de Kock, with whom he had fallen out at the time.

One day, Barnard visited me at my home and told me how he had had to shoot Swapo leader Anton Lubowski in 1989 on the eve of the Namibian elections. He said he twice waited with an Ak-47 assault rifle to kill Lubowski, but couldn’t get a clear aim and had to abandon the project.

His CCB colleagues then flew to Namibia to finish Lubowski off, four months after the killing of Webster. When he left later that afternoon he said I was never to speak about Lubowski. “Ask Webster what happened to him,” he said and laughed.

When Ferdi Barnard arrived at the Melville restaurant, he was accompanied by a man by the name of “Rassie”, who didn’t speak much and was clearly there to look after Barnard, who would from time to time excuse himself and go to the toilet, probably to take another fix of coke.

I later discovered that “Rassie” was none other than Lieutenant Erasmus of the South African Police organised crime unit, and that instead of investigating Barnard for a series of crimes ranging from murder to diamond smuggling, was acting, it seems, as his guardian.

At about four o’clock that afternoon, Barnard must have run out of drugs and ordered me to go with him to his car.

As he was fiddling around looking for his crack and pipe, a $100 note fell out of a compartment between the two front seats. He picked it up and said: “This is for you. Take it.” I knew it had to be a counterfeit note as I had been told that Barnard and his criminal network were involved in the smuggling of bogus dollars.

I afterwards took the note to a foreign- currency dealer, who told me that it was a “near-perfect” forgery.

The same day that Barnard confided in me about Webster, I told two friends and colleagues about the confession. A few months later, I made an affidavit about what Barnard had told me, and I decided then that if ever I was subpoenaed to testify against him, I would have to do so.

I had lunch with Barnard in the same restaurant in December 1996, but when he sat down on that occasion, he said: “I’m clean. I’m not taking drugs any more.” He was indeed sober, the name of David Webster wasn’t mentioned and no further confessions were forthcoming.

Barnard clearly has a tendency to talk, especially when he is high on drugs. When he told me about Webster, he was certainly stoned and intoxicated by all the drugs he had consumed, but his speech was composed and sensible.

I have often wondered why he told me about the killing, because he knows I am a journalist and have been working on and exposing death squads for several years.

He trusts me, and the fact that I had never spoken about his attempted killing of Anton Lubowski probably reinforced that perception. Maybe he thinks that I am afraid of him, since he rules by fear and nobody dares to stand up to him.

Since his confession, I have been torn between some loyalty to Barnard, journalistic ethics and my simple citizen’s duty to report and speak of a murder that was committed.

The murder of David Webster has caused incredible pain, not only to those who were close to him, but it also contributed to tearing this country apart at a time when we were fighting for human dignity and civil rights.

I do not believe that Ferdi Barnard should go unpunished and continue his mafiosi schemes, planned and executed from his dives in Johannesburg’s northern suburbs.

Towards the end of 1996, new evidence against Ferdi Barnard emerged when his former live-in lover provided details of the murder of David Webster and a host of other crimes.

The previously bungled and half-hearted investigation was reopened, but this time it was handled by an invigorated and dedicated special team of policemen.

On September 2 1997, Barnard was arrested and charged with the murders of David Webster and a Johannesburg drug dealer, as well as 22 additional crimes ranging from attempted murder to the illegal possession of firearms.

Barnard’s reign of supremacy over Johannesburg’s gangland may at last have come to an end.

Over the past seven years, I have listened to many confessions by apartheid’s killers, some so cruel and savage they were beyond comprehension. Of how police killers had a barbecue and a drinking orgy next to the burning body of an African National Congress member they had just murdered; of three civic leaders who had iron pipes smashed into their heads; and an SADF assassin who boasted about the “mincemeat” he made out of an arm of an ANC lawyer he blew up with a car bomb.

But none was more uncanny than the confession about the activist who “flew through the air”.

—Into the Heart of Darkness, published by Jonathan Ball, is a collection of extraordinary tales of apartheid’s killers whom Pauw has personally encountered as a reporter. It is to be released on Monday, November 21

MAIL & GUARDIAN

SATURDAY, JANUARY 29, 2011

THE WEST RAND KNOCKER'S & THEIR FATE....

Suspected underworld ‘legend’ mysteriously goes missing
Haynes was connected to the murder of Charles Petrus Marais near Randfontein in 1985. Marais was shot and robbed of R14 000.

25 January 2011 | TOBIE VAN DEN BERGH

MIDDELBURG – A man who is some legend in the underworld, Ralph Haynes, went missing here on Friday.

He drove at the time a Ford Bantam bakkie belonging to a well known businessman of the town, Frikkie Lutzkie, and had R400 000 cash with him.

The bakkie was found at Bronkhorstspruit on Saturday night with some grass inside and a broken window on the passenger side. Forensic experts from Middelburg searched the bakkie for clues.

Haynes was connected to the murder of Charles Petrus Marais near Randfontein in 1985. Marais was shot with a submachine gun and robbed of R14 000. Haynes was later charged with three others and received a jail sentence.

The local newspaper, Middelburg Observer, received a number of calls from unidentified persons since Sunday stating that Haynes has done some “work” in town.

Lutzkie picked him up with his helicopter at the Kitty Hawk air strip near Pretoria on Friday. They were going to fly to Nelspruit to fetch gold for testing at a refinery in Haynes’s home town, Krugersdorp.

The two went to the Lutzkie development next to Kruger Dam where Haynes requested a loan from Lutzkie for R400 000 which he was to pay back tomorrow.

“He said he knew who shot me last year and would give me the names,” Lutzkie said yesterday.

He was certain that Haynes would give him the information about his attackers because he knew so many people in the underworld. He also signed an IOU.

Because of bad weather they were unable to fly back to Pretoria and Lutzkie offered Haynes his bakkie. Haynes drove off and has not been seen since.

After he departed his wife Jackie phoned to enquire where he was. She did not report a missing person but his ex-wife Nikkie did.

A cellphone signal of one of Haynes’s five phones was received from the Witbank road and another on the N12 Highway near Ogies and one at Orkney.

Specialist investigator Mike Bolhuis said yesterday he has been investigating Haynes for 10 years and that he owes many people money. –

Corrie Goosen

On May 31 1997 mobster Corrie Goosen died when he crashed his Honda Blackbird 1100 cc motorbike while racing at a speed of over 300km on a highway near Port Elizabeth.

His death was as spectacular and dramatic as his life. Goosen was a legend: a former kick-boxing champion, dragster racer, brothel boss and above all: a gangster of Sicilian proportions. His death came three weeks before he was due to appear in court in Klerksdorp on charges of stealing more than R10 million of diamonds from a family of Afrikaner farmers and prospectors.

Jacques Pauw's DEATH OF A GANGSTER takes viewers on a journey into the heart of the underworld and exposes a litany of murder, diamond smuggling, robbery, prostitution and police corruption as it tells the story of one of Johannesburg's most notorious gangs.

This 90-minute film traces Goosen's life from his poor childhood in the mining village of Randfontein to the sleaze of the Johannesburg underworld. He was a member of one of Johannesburg's most notorious gangs. Other members were Ferdi Barnard, former CCB operative, and Ralph Heyns, who was sentenced to death during the Eighties for a series of bank robberies and spent several years on death row before being reprieved. Heyns, the main storyteller in this film, is currently a boxing trainer.

Goosen is the third member of the gang who has died since 1994. His brother Johan faked his own death in 1992 to pick up a R172 000 insurance claim, but was arrested two years later and convicted of fraud. He actually died in 1995 - also in a high-speed motorbike accident. Another gang member, Eugene Riley, was murdered in 1994.

All the members of the gang grew up in the conservative Afrikaner suburbs of western Johannesburg and Corrie Goosen, Barnard and Riley also worked for apartheid's dirty tricks units during the Eighties. For nearly ten years, this gang reigned supreme. Up to the early Nineties, they committed their crimes under the protection of the apartheid security forces. Although Corrie had several previous convictions for diamond smuggling, he always managed to stay out of prison: by threatening to kill state witnesses and bribing policemen to steal dockets.

Barnard, Goosen and Heyns were a terrifying trio, and although they were investigated for a series of diamond robberies, police could not find witnesses to testify against them. Now victims who were previously too scared to come forward tell their stories to Jacques Pauw.

Diplomat was involved in illegal diamond deals, claims Barnard Stephané Bothma

PRETORIA - A former Austrian consul-general in SA was involved in illegal diamond dealings worth R1,4m and even flew his "agent" and Ferdi Barnard to Swaziland in his official jet to look at uncut diamonds, the high court heard yesterday.

The claim was made by Barnard, a former policeman and Civil Co-operation Bureau operative who has pleaded not guilty to 34 charges including the murder of Wits university anti-apartheid activist David Webster. Other charges relate to fraud involving illegal diamond deals.

State witness Bill Douven told the court that Barnard's alleged crime partner, Corrie Goosen, had borrowed more than R2,1m from him to purchase diamonds. Douven denied being involved in any illegal deal and said his only involvement was to value diamonds for Goosen occasionally and to advance the money. Goosen died in a motorcycle accident last year.

However, through his defence advocate Fanie Coetzee, Barnard claimed that Douven had in 1990 and 1991 acted as an agent for Hubert Krottenberger, then the Austrian consul-general in SA, to purchase large amounts of uncut diamonds.

"Krottenberger even gave Douven a black Mercedes 500 as a reward for acting on his behalf," Coetzee told the court.

Douven strongly denied the allegations, but admitted that Krottenberger had flown him and Barnard to Swaziland on one occasion to inspect diamonds. The "diamonds" turned out to be glass, Douven said.

"The only reason he flew us to Swaziland was because I did not feel like driving there," Douven told Judge Johan Els.

He said Krottenberger, "a very successful businessman and a friend for 30 years currently residing in the US", had also lent him R75 000 which was paid over to Barnard. "That was Krottenberger's only involvement."

Barnard said that the R1,4m diamond deal was arranged by Douven and the sellers on behalf of Krottenberger and that he (Barnard) had merely provided security. Barnard claimed he was paid R50 000 by Douven for his services, which was denied by Douven.

Douven told the court he had lost R2,19m through his dealings with Barnard and Goosen. "I was shocked and disheartened and any other person would probably have taken his own life," Douven, a Kempton Park businessman, said.

Douven also told the court that Barnard had admitted to him his involvement in the 1989 assassination of Webster. "I received an order to kill Webster," Barnard allegedly told Douven.

Last Updated (Wednesday, 05 January 2011 15:41)

COMMENTS BY SONNY

Eugene Riley was one of the first victims in this saga.......

Acting Brixton Murder and Robbery Unit Commander (at the time) Charlie Landman is alleged to have been a 'silent' member of this gang.

Former Commissioner of Police Genl Johan Coetzee, after retirement, investigated the case of Corrie Goosen's brother in law, Vivienne Beukes, who was on Appeal Bail in the early to late 2003's, for his son in law who was a lawyer in Graaf Reinete.

They alleged that Beukes did not know about the brothers Deon, Marius and Fanie Nel robbery in Lichtenburg/Klerksdorp and was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was on the scene as a diamond expert to evaluate the diamonds.

The suspicion was that Corrie Goosen staged his own death to keep Beukes, Barnard and

Calla Botha out of jail. They had used Botha's BMW during the robbery.

This plot just thickens.

Jacques Pauw never got to the bottom of the last Chapter of his book, Dance with the Devil.

Dance with the Devil

[Verse 1]
I once knew a nigga whose real name was William
his primary concern, was making a million
being the illest hustler, that the world ever seen
he used to fuck movie stars and sniff coke in his dreams
a corrupted young mind, at the age of thirteen
nigga never had a father and his mom was a fiend
she put the pipe down, but for every year she was sober
her sons heart simultaneously grew colder
he started hanging out selling bags in the projects
checking the young chicks, looking for hit and run prospects
he was fascinated by material objects
but he understood money never bought respect
he built a reputation cause he could hustle and steal
but got locked once and didn't hesitate to squeal
so criminals he chilled with didn't think he was real
you see me and niggas like this have never been equal
I dont project my insecurities on other people
he fiended for props like addicts with pipes and needles
so he felt he had to prove to everyone he was evil
a feeble minded young man with infinite potential
the product of a ghetto bred capitalistic mental
coincidentally dropped out of school to sell weed
dancing with the devil, smoked until his eyes would bleed
but he was sick of selling trees and gave in to his greed

[Hook]
Everyone trying to be trife never face the consequences
you propably only did a month for minor offences
ask a nigga doing life if he had another chance
but then again there's always the wicked that knew in advance
dance forever with the devil on a cold cell block
but thats what happens when you rape, murder and sell rock
devils used to be gods, angels that fell from the top
there's no diversity because we're burning in the melting pot

[Verse 2]
So Billy started robbing niggaz, anything he could do
to get his respect back, in the eyes of his crew
starting fights over little shit, up on the block
stepped up to selling mothers and brothers the crack rock
working overtime for making money for the crack spot
hit the jackpot and wanted to move up to cocaine
fulfilling the scarface fantasy stuck in his brain
tired of the block niggaz treating him the same
he wanted to be major like the cut throats and the thugs
but when he tried to step to 'em, niggaz showed him no love
they told him any motherfucking coward can sell drugs
any bitch nigga with a gun can bust slugs
any nigga with a red shirt can front like a blood
even Puffy smoked a motherfucker up in the club
but only a real thug can stab someone till they die
standing in front of them, staring straight into their eyes
Billy realized that these men were well guarded
and they wanted to test him, before business started
suggested raping a bitch to prove he was cold hearted
so now he had a choice between going back to his life
or making money with made men, up in the cife
his dreams about cars and ice, made him agree
a hardcore nigga is all he ever wanted to be
and so he met them friday night at a quarter to three

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
They drove around the projects slow while it was raining
smoking blunts, drinking and joking for entertainment

[ From: http://www.metrolyrics.com/dance-with-the-devil-lyrics-immortal-technique.html ]

until they saw a woman on the street walking alone
three in the morning, coming back from work, on her way home
and so they quietly got out the car and followed her
walking through the projects, the darkness swallowed her
they wrapped her shirt around her head and knocked her onto the floor
"this is it kid, now you got your chance to be raw..."
so Billy yoked her up and grabbed the chick by the hair
and dragged her into a lobby that had nobody there
she struggled hard but they forced her to go up the stairs
they got to the roof and then held her down on the ground
screaming shut the fuck up and stop moving around
the shirt covered her face, but she screamed and clawed
so Billy stomped on the bitch, until he broken her jaw
the dirty bastards knew exactly what they were doing
they kicked her until they cracked her ribs and she stopped moving
blood leaking through the cloth, she cried silently
and then they all proceeded to rape her violently
Billy was meant to go first, but each of them took a turn
ripping her up, and choking her until her throat burned
her broken jaw mumbled for God but they weren't concerned
when they were done and she was lying bloody, broken and bruised
one of them niggaz pulled out a brand new .22
they told him that she was a witness of what she'd gone through
and if he killed her he was guaranteed a spot in the crew
he thought about it for a minute, she was practically dead
and so he leaned over and put the gun right to her head

(Sample from "Survival of the Fittest" by Mobb Deep)
I'm falling and I can't turn back
I'm falling and I can't turn back

[Verse 4]
Right before he pulled the trigger, and ended her life
he thought about the cocaine with the platinum and ice
and he felt strong standing along with his new brothers
cocked the gat to her head, and pulled back the shirt cover
but what he saw made him start to cringe and stutter
'cause he was staring into the eyes of his own mother
she looked back at him and cried, cause he had forsaken her
she cried more painfully, than when they were raping her
his whole world stopped, he couldn't even contemplate
his corruption had succesfully changed his fate
and he remembered how his mom used to come home late
working hard for nothing, cause now what was he worth
he turned away from the woman that had once given him birth
and crying out to the sky cause he was lonely and scared
but only the devil responded, cause God wasn't there
and right then he knew what it was to be empty and cold
and so he jumped off the roof and died with no soul
they say death take you to a better place but I doubt it
after that they killed his mother, and never spoke about it
and listen cause the story that I'm telling is true
'cause I was there when Billy Jacobs and I raped his mom too
and now the devil follows me everywhere that I go
in fact I'm sure he's standing among one of you at my shows
and every street cipher listening to little thugs flow
he could be standing right next to you, and you wouldn't know
the devil grows inside the hearts of the selfish and wicked
white, brown, yellow and black color is not restricted
you have a self destructive destiny when you're inflicted
and you'll be one of God's children that fell from the top
there's no diversity because we're burning in the melting pot
so when the devil wants to dance with you, you better say never
because a dance with the devil might last you forever........

http://www.journeyman.tv/?lid=10021&tmpl=transcript

This Chapter is about written......!

Net closing on 'free' robber
2004-06-17 21:53

Related Links
Robber defies jail for 7 years

Pretoria - The prosecuting authority was taking steps on Thursday to expedite the appeal proceedings of a convicted armed robber who was still a free man more than six years after receiving a 10-year jail sentence.

Prosecutor Andre Fourie said the Pretoria High Court would be asked to enrol the appeal of Vivian Beukes for hearing as soon as possible.

Should his defence team fail to file the necessary documents by a deadline to be set by the court, he would be jailed immediately.

Beukes was sentenced to 10 years' imprisonment in January 1998 for a robbery three years earlier, also involving former Civil Co-operation Bureau member Ferdi Barnard.

Beukes and Barnard were convicted of robbing brothers Deon, Marius and Fanie Nel of diamonds worth more than R10m. A third accomplice, Corrie Goosen, died in a motorbike accident before sentence was passed.

Barnard is serving a life sentence in Pretoria's C-Max prison for, among other things, the 1989 murder of anti-apartheid activist David Webster.

In a statement issued through his lawyers on Thursday, he expressed surprise at the fact that Beukes had not yet been jailed.

According to Fourie, an array of administrative bungles were to blame.

When his first appeal failed to the Pretoria High Court against his conviction and sentence, the clerk of the Klerksdorp regional court should have informed Beukes in writing to hand himself over to police within seven days.

This was never done.

Blunder upon blunder

Instead, the clerk informed the police, and when they sought to arrest him, Beukes lodged an application for the extension of his bail pending an application to the High Court for leave to appeal to the Supreme Court of Appeal in Bloemfontein.

The bail application was granted and Beukes was given until the end of February to lodge this application for leave to appeal, as well as an application for condonation for the late filing. This deadline was also missed, Fourie said.

The state of affairs slipped by unnoticed until May, when the complainants in the criminal matter protested to prosecutors about Beukes being a free man.

Fourie said the prosecuting authority would seek a court date from Transvaal Judge President Bernard Ngoepe as soon as possible.

In his statement, Barnard said he found it ironic that he was the only member of the CCB and directorate of covert intelligence gathering convicted and sentenced for acts committed on behalf of the apartheid government.

He also expressed gratitude towards the late transport minister Dullah Omar and his family for forgiving him for plotting to kill Omar.

- SAPA

Coincidentally Corrie Goosen was personally know to the "main Scorpion investigator, Andrew Leask!"

They all ran together on the West RAND - RANDFONTEIN AREA!

http://citizenalertzablogspotcom-tango.blogspot.com/2013/07/dirty-cops-rule-by-fear-in-soweto.html