At the age of 25, Caesar still clings to his father's words: "I am going to get a job as a bank manager in South Africa, because our country is now liberated, then I will come back to take you and your mother to live in my country."

Caesar's mother, Monica Njeri, has given up hope of ever seeing her husband: "Even if he comes back I don't think we can get back together. And even if I wanted to go and find him in South Africa, where would I begin?" she posed.

"I am told they used to change names depending on circumstances and he could be using another name altogether," she added.

Monica who knew her husband as Vus'umzi said, "I am sure he now has another family down in South Africa, but I am not bitter. I see him through my son."

But Caesar is not settled and has never given up hope of being reunited with his father. He dreams of one day experiencing life in the big city, Johannesburg, inspired by the stories his father told him. Were his father to return and spirit him and his mother out of the poverty of Kawangware, a large slum on the northern side of Nairobi, he reasons this would alleviate the harshness of their poverty stricken lives.

Caesar's story is replicated amongst thousands of descendants of South African freedom fighters scattered across African countries that opened their doors to them during the apartheid era. Most of them feel cheated and they would also like to know what happened to their fathers.

Although all the front line states paid the highest price, countries such as Tanzania which hosted the largest camp for the African National Congress (ANC), Uganda and Kenya also contributed and in one way or the other in hosting South African freedom fighters.

Halima Tswale a Tanzanian woman married by one of the freedom fighters said: "They did not know when the war against apartheid would end and they settled in our countries and had families like any other person."

Tswale who had a daughter out that union is concerned about her daughter's future whom she says has been unable to settle down, always hoping that her father will come back one day and take her to live with him in South Africa.

The women believed that when South Africa achieved its liberation, their solidarity would know no borders. But currently the issue of concern for both the women and the children of former refugees can be summed up into three categories; political, economic and social empowerment.

They gave warmth, comfort and a sense of affiliation to the freedom fighters at a time when they were desperately in need and now they feel a sense of betrayal.

For example on the 28,000 acres of land at Mazimbu in Morogoro, Tanzania, which was home for more than 500,000 ANC members and renamed Solomon Mahlangu, many children are still waiting for their fathers to come back and take them to South Africa as promised.

Living in a slum called Dark City near the Mazimbu camp, the children, some of whom still speak some Zulu can be heard greeting one another, Sali bonana yebo, and any visitor to the place is seen as a potential bearer of good news from their father.

Mzwandile Funani who lives in Dark City believes that one day he will be reunited with his father in South Africa and become a soldier: "It is my desire to see South Africa, the land of my father."

Even though most of the freedom fighters who returned home are documented to have been so traumatised by their exile that they did not want to dredge up their life experiences living outside their country, their descendants are asking that they be given recognition as a symbol of African solidarity even as South Africa celebrates 10 years of democracy.

---