Maj-Gen Nonhlanhla Zulu didn't want to say anything that might annoy or disturb the renowned guy she was there to apprehend.
"I was apprehensive. "I simply prayed and begged God to direct me because former President Jacob Zuma is our senior citizen, so how do you go and tell him you're arresting him?" she told the Sunday Times this week.
South Africans had no idea that a soft-spoken 52-year-old policewoman was already inside the Nkandla complex, advising Zuma that the game was up, as they watched the midnight drama unfold on television this week.
Even as the deadline drew, a small group of supporters gathered outside Nkandla's gates, led by Zuma's eldest son, Edward Zuma, pledging not to allow him be removed, unaware to the events occurring only metres away.
Zuma was carried away by a convoy of cars about 11.15 p.m. When his bodyguards drove him to Estcourt, approximately 170 kilometers away, to begin his sentence, he is said to have been sat in the rear of a black BMW X5.
Zulu described how she found the bravery to apprehend the man who is now South Africa's most famous prisoner.
She stated that she never intended to make a spectacle of Zuma or to be the gung-ho cop that others expected her to be. She wanted the arrest to be as respectful as possible.
The presence of tearful Zuma wives and children, including his ex-wife and mother of his children, minister of co-operative governance and traditional affairs Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma, indicated that it all came down to her policing skills combined with her understanding of Zulu culture and the respect she had for Zuma, according to Zulu.
She said that she volunteered for the job rather than being hand-picked, pleading with her supervisors to "please give me the opportunity to go and talk to baba."
On Monday and Tuesday nights, she tossed and turned in bed as various scenarios played out in her mind.
"I didn't want to say anything that might make him angry." What if I'm disrespected when I get there? I was also wondering about it. But, as a Zulu woman who grew up in the region, I realized that my demeanor would be crucial since I would be interacting with an elder.
"When I speak to him, I'm just going to humble myself," I told myself.
I didn't want to say anything that might make him angry. What if I'm disrespected when I get there? I was also wondering about it. But, as a Zulu woman who grew up in the region, I understood that my demeanor would be crucial because I would be conversing with an elder Maj. Nonhlanhla Zulu, Gen
Zulu, who is from Vryheid, some three hours north of Nkandla, travelled to the homestead by himself on Wednesday and arrived about 1.30 p.m. When she arrived at the residence, she was greeted warmly and provided something to drink.
"I respectfully rejected since all I wanted to do was do what I was there for." He [Zuma] approached me, humbled himself, listened to me, and grasped what I said."
"I informed him that he knew why I was there and that I was the one who had been sent to get him," Zulu, who talked to Zuma in her home tongue, isiZulu, claimed when the moment of truth arrived.
"Baba, all I ask is that we don't do anything to ruin your character, dignity, and all the work you've done and fought for over the years," she told Zuma. You've been attacked on all sides, and I've never seen you do anything to intentionally degrade your dignity.
"Right now, this is your chance to demonstrate that you can leave here with your dignity intact, without me humiliating you and your family." With the utmost respect, I implore you to assist me."
"It would be be myself and his guardians," she informed him. I assured him that there would be no blue lights and that we would not see police until we were at our destination. Everything will be done in a respectful manner."
Zuma's agreement to Zulu's request, although on the condition that he be placed in a secure institution and that his ill-health be taken into account, surprised Zulu. Zuma is a 79-year-old man.
"Kulungile, ngizohamba nawe mntanami Mageba [It's OK, I'll go with you, my kid Mageba - Mageba is one of Zulu's clan names] as long as where you're going me is secure," Zuma said to Zulu. If you can promise me that I will be alright and that I will have a decent lunch, because you are aware that my health condition necessitates healthy eating, that would be great.
"If you can make sure that someone cooks for me and that I'm not exposed to Covid-19 because I'm unwell and don't want to become sick," he said, she recounted.
Zuma continued, "If you can do just one thing [I will be grateful]," she remarked. I'm not sure why your superiors haven't done what you're doing. This was a straightforward task. You'll let me know when you're ready, and we'll depart."
Zuma departed to pack after an hour-long talk with her, and Zulu grabbed up her phone and began making plans.
"I contacted the acting district commissioner in charge of [KwaZulu-Natal] and informed him of [Zuma's] concerns, requesting that he handle them on my behalf."
Later, Zulu insisted on personally seeing Zuma's cell to ensure that he was at ease.
She also informed Zuma's bodyguards of the plan to arrest him and transport him to Estcourt, where he would be handed over to correctional services, as per an order from the Constitutional Court, which found Zuma guilty of contempt of court after he refused to appear before the Zondo commission of inquiry.
When the clock hit 11 p.m., Zulu respectfully informed Zuma that it was time to say goodbye to his family: "Baba ngicela sihambe, isikhathi sesishayile [Baba, please may we leave, the time has come]."
"Please allow me 10 minutes to say goodbye to my children and family," he implored Zulu. Zuma gathered his family in one room, she claimed, but only Dlamini-Zuma was bold enough to say farewell. He was surrounded by wives and children, but most of them were sad, so they did not see him depart, Zulu remembered.
"It was heartbreaking to witness, and it was made harder by the fact that I was accompanying a former president." Even if you haven't been arrested, going to prison may be traumatic; imagine having to go there and leave an old guy, then having to take his fingerprints to prove you arrested him. "It wasn't a pleasant sensation for me, especially as a Zulu lady," Zulu explained.
"He gave them embraces and spoke to them at one time." I'm not sure how to convey it because it was so emotional. Because there were so many of them, you could see how difficult it was for him to give them all hugs. As a result, he raised his hand and entered the vehicle."
Zuma was in a car driven by his bodyguards, so Zulu got in her own car and proceeded to Estcourt. "I ushered him in and left him there," Zulu said when they got at the jail and examined Zuma's cell.
Zulu remarked that after 28 years as a police officer in South Africa, this was an assignment she would "never forget."
"Every individual with a heart would have sobbed as well." I sobbed. Zuma is not the type of person you read about in the headlines, therefore it was tough to work with him. "When I left him, I went into my vehicle and sobbed," Zulu recounted, her eyes welling up with tears.
Zuma, she said, had made her work simpler. "He humbled himself, putting South Africa and his dignity first." He believed whatever I told him as a youngster to be real, and he accepted everything."
Zulu is a hero to her family and coworkers. "When I arrived at the workplace, I was greeted with a standing ovation... I sobbed again because it was so emotional."
Brig Vish Naidoo, a national police spokeswoman, praised Zulu for exhibiting sympathy while staying professional. Bheki Cele, the police minister, commended her as the officer who persuaded Zuma to surrender, as the Constitutional Court had ordered.
