I soon came in contact with the Christian Indians living in Durban. The Court Interpreter, Mr. Paul, was a Roman Catholic. I made his acquaintance, as also that of the late Mr. Subhan Godfrey, then a teacher under the Protestant Mission, and father of James Godfery, who, as a member of the South African Deputation, visited India in 1924. I likewise met the late Parsi Rustomji and the late Adamji Miyakhan about the same time. All these friends, who up to then had never met one another except on business, came ultimately into close contact, as we shall see later.
Whilst I was thus widening the circle of my acquaintance, the firm
received a letter from their lawyer saying that preparations should
be made for the case, and that Abdulla Sheth should go to Pretoria
himself or send a representative.
Abdulla Sheth gave me this letter to read, and asked me if I would
go to Pretoria. 'I can only say after I have understood the case
from you,' said I. 'At present I am at a loss to know what I have to
do there.' He thereupon asked his clerks to explain the case to me.
As I began to study the case, I felt as though I ought to begin from
the A B C of the subject. During the few days I had had at Zanzibar,
I had been to the court to see the work there. A Parsi lawyer was
examining a witness and asking him questions regarding credit and
debit entries in account books. It was all Greek to me. Book-keeping
I had learnt neither at school nor during my stay in England. And
the case for which I had come to South Africa was mainly about
accounts. Only one who knew accounts could understand and explain
it. The clerk went on talking about this debited and that credited,
and I felt more and more confused. I did not know what a P. Note
meant. I failed to find the word in the dictionary. I revealed my
ignorance to the clerk, and I learnt from him that a P. Note meant a promisory note. I purchased a book on book-keeping and studied it.
That gave me some confidence. I understood the case. I saw that
Abdulla Sheth, who did not know how to keep accounts, had so much
practical knowledge that he could quickly solve intricacies of
book-keeping. I told him that I was prepared to go to Pretoria.
'Where will you put up?' asked the Sheth.
'Wherever you want me to,'
'Then I shall write to our lawyer. He will arrange for your
lodgings. I shall also write to my Meman friends there, but I would
not advise you to stay with them. The other party has great
influence in Pretoria. Should any one of them manage to read our
private correspondence, it might do us much harm. The more you avoid
familiarity with them, the better for us.'
'I shall stay where your lawyer puts me up, or I shall find out
independent lodgings. Pray don't worry. Not a soul shall know
anything that is confidential between us. But I do intend
cultivating the acquaintance of the other party. I should like to be
friends with them. I would try, if possible, to settle the case out
of court. After all Tyeb Sheth is a relative of yours.'
Sheth Tyeb Haji Khan Muhammad was a near relative of Abdulla Sheth.
The mention of a probable settlement somewhat startled the Sheth, I
could see. But I had already been six or seven days in Durban, and
we now knew and understood each other. I was no longer a 'white
elephant.' So he said:
'Y...es, I see. There would be nothing better than a settlement out
of court. But we are all relatives and know one another very well
indeed. Tyeb Sheth is not a man to consent to a settlement easily.
With the slightest unwariness on our part, he would screw all sorts
of things out of us, and do us down in the end. So please think
twice before you do anything.'
'Don't be anxious about that,' said I. 'I need not talk to Tyeb
Sheth, or for that matter to anyone else, about the case. I would
only suggest to him to come to an understanding, and so save a lot
of unnecessary litigation.'
On the seventh or eighth day after my arrival, I left Durban. A
first class seat was booked for me. It was usual there to pay five
shillings extra, if one needed a bedding. Abdulla Sheth insisted
that I should book one bedding but, out of obstinacy and pride and
with a view to saving five shillings, I declined. Abdulla Sheth
warned me. 'Look, now,' said he, 'this is a different country from
India. Thank God, we have enough and to spare. Please do not stint
yourself in anything that you may need.'
I thanked him and asked him not to be anxious.
The train reached Maritzburg, the capital of Natal, at about 9 p.m.
Beddings used to be provided at this station. A railway servant came
and asked me if I wanted one. 'No,' said I, 'I have one with me.' He
went away. But a passenger came next, and looked me up and down. He
saw that I was a 'coloured' man. This disturbed him. Out he went and
came in again with one or two officials. They all kept quiet, when
another official came to me and said, 'Come along, you must go to
the van compartment.'
'But I have a first class ticket,' said I.
'That doesn't matter,' rejoined the other. 'I tell you, you must go
to the van compartment.'
'I tell you, I was permitted to travel in this compartment at
Durban, and I insist on going on in it.'
'No, you won't,' said the official. 'You must leave this
compartment, or else I shall have to call a police constable to push
'Yes, you may. I refuse to get out voluntarily.'
The constable came. He took me by the hand and pushed me out. My
luggage was also taken out. I refused to go to the other compartment
and the train steamed away. I went and sat in the waiting room,
keeping my hand-bag with me, and leaving the other luggage where it
was. The railway authorities had taken charge of it.
It was winter,
and winter in the higher regions of South Africa is severely cold. Maritzburg being at a high altitude, the cold was extremely bitter.
My over-coat was in my luggage, but I did not dare to ask for it
lest I should be insulted again, so I sat and shivered. There was no
light in the room. A passenger came in at about midnight and
possibly wanted to talk to me. But I was in no mood to talk.
I began to think of my duty. Should I fight for my rights or go back
to India, or should I go on to Pretoria without minding the insults,
and return to India after finishing the case? It would be cowardice
to run back to India without fulfilling my obligation. The hardship
to which I was subjected was superficial – only a symptom of the deep
disease of colour prejudice. I should try, if possible, to root out
the disease and suffer hardships in the process. Redress for wrongs
I should seek only to the extent that would be necessary for the
removal of the colour prejudice.
So I decided to take the next available train to Pretoria.
The following morning I sent a long telegram to the General Manager
of the Railway and also informed Abdulla Sheth, who immediately met
the General Manager. The Manager justified the conduct of the
railway authorities, but informed him that he had already instructed
the Station Master to see that I reached my destination safely.
Abdulla Sheth wired to the Indian merchants in Maritzburg and to
friends in other places to meet me and look after me. The merchants
came to see me at the station and tried to comfort me by narrating
their own hardships and explaining that what had happened to me was
nothing unusual. They also said that Indians traveling first or
second class had to expect trouble from railway officials and white
passengers. The day was thus spent in listening to these tales of
woe. The evening train arrived. There was a reserved berth for me. I
now purchased at Maritzburg the bedding ticket I had refused to book
The train took me to Charlestown.