Cry, the Beloved Country
— Perhaps you might be hungry, small one.
— Not very hungry, umfundisi.
— Perhaps a little hungry.
— Yes, a little hungry, umfundisi.
— Go to the mother then. Perhaps she has some food.
— I thank you, umfundisi. (1.2.8-13)
[Kumalo] went out of the door, and she watched him through the little window, walking slowly to the door of the church. Then she sat down at his table, and put her head on it, and was silent, with the patient suffering of black women, with the suffering of oxen, with the suffering of any that are mute. (1.2.84)
Kumalo climbed into the carriage for non-Europeans, already full of the humbler people of his race, some with strange assortments of European garments, some with blankets over their strange assortment, some with blankets over the semi-nudity of their primitive dress, though these were all women. Men travelled no longer in primitive dress. (1.3.18)