in management positions—to Linda’s dismay. The officious ex-British-military woman worked as a volunteer human resources executive, while two colored women occupied positions below Kevin, but the black women at the foundation worked in relatively lowly capacities: as secretaries and program facilitators. Ntobeko, who managed the staff, told me that he had been especially bereft after Peter’s death, convinced that Linda could never manage as Peter had because she was female.
“All the bigger deals were made by Peter,” Ntobeko said. “I just did not think Linda would be able to shoulder it. She will spend time with you talking nonsense in a man’s world.”
No matter what, Ntobeko was still Linda’s favored son, and one of the reasons she kept coming back to South Africa. Linda sent me emails calling him “fabulous” and “brilliant.” She spoke of his “incredible intuition.”
“If he had any kind of normal childhood, he could be a huge leader,” she said. He knew “when to talk.” He was “a strategist.” She was convinced that she knew him to the core, and vice versa. “We were doing an interview at a restorative justice conference in Milwaukee, and the man wanted to know if Ntobeko had ever looked me in the eye and said ‘I’m sorry,’ and his answer was, ‘I don’t have to tell her,’ ” she told me. “He feels it is there without talking about it.”
Later, I began to suspect that there was another reason Ntobeko never said sorry.
Ntobeko usually held a small dinner in Linda’s honor when she came to Cape Town. She sent me pictures of the spread, of Champagne flutes, platters of roasted chicken and ears of grilled corn.
This dinner party is amazing as Ntobeko was released from prison 13 years ago this month, she wrote after one gathering. How could we have imagined this ever happening???
After another such gathering, she sent me photos of them drinking Champagne together, and of clothing piled high at the fledgling wash-and-fold laundry business he and his wife were running from their garage.
Linda loved Easy, but his struggles were a disappointment to her. He was, she said, “the child you worry about more,” the “foot soldier,” while Ntobeko was a “colonel.” Ntobeko’s triumphs were Linda’s triumphs. Ntobeko was living proof that Linda’s efforts mattered, that her mercy could propel a neglected young man to a meaningful adult life. Once a prisoner with neither a high school diploma nor any significant job prospects, he was now supporting three daughters and a wife. Linda had, for many years, rented a loft in downtown Cape Town, and when she gave the place up, she donated her sleigh bed to Ntobeko. He kept the bed in a guest room, which he told her was “Makhulu’s room”—a place for her in case she ever wished to live with him in her old age.
But their relationship was tangled up in the foundation. Soon after one dinner party, at the urging of Kevin and his team, Ntobeko wrote Linda to rally her support for some changes. In one instance, the foundation wanted Linda’s blessing on a revamped logo and website. But Linda did not want to change the logo, a rudimentary pair of black and white hands, intertwined above a retro font spelling out the foundation’s name. She and Peter had helped design it long ago. Ntobeko, Kevin, and their team, however, preferred a more modern take: sleek handprints, one black and one white, their thumbs overlapped, above more contemporary lettering.
Ntobeko was dispatched to try to convince Linda. He had recently enjoyed the services of a life coach, hired by Kevin, whose specialty was helping people “find their gifts.” Ntobeko had found his gift as a businessman. On a practical level he was still “lining things up,” he said. But he was learning about American tycoons, and was saying things like, “I can only coach those who want to be coached!” And “I don’t count mistakes, I count efforts!” In his new role as a businessman, he had begun to study the concept of brand building. In his email to Linda, he argued that redesigns had boosted the profiles of a variety of South African corporations.
Vodacom has changed colours from blue & white to red & white (many people were so interested to find out what’s going on, they are now Vodacom clients), he wrote. Standard Bank…slogan has changed from STANDARD BANK Simpler Better Faster to SATNDARD BANK moving forward [sic].
Linda received the email with sorrow. Amy’s name was now the equivalent of a bank or