HELEN ZILLE: MOTHER & WIFE

She’s known as a tough-as-nails politician, but in her new memoir Helen Zille shows a softer side as she reveals intimate details about the challenges of pregnancy, motherhood and marriage

THE year 2014 was a big year, personally and politically. It marked my last election as leader of the Democratic Alliance (DA) and my first wedding as a mother. My son Paul’s wonderful girlfriend, Gretl, had accepted his proposal when, after a tough hike, they reached the summit of Devil’s Peak which flanks Table Mountain.

They arrived back at Leeuwenhof [Zille’s official Cape Town residence as premier of the Western Cape] later that afternoon, in shorts and hiking boots, to show us the single black diamond set in platinum that looked beautiful on Gretl’s unadorned, straight-fingered hand. We were delighted.

That evening, over supper, I asked [my husband] Johann [Maree] whether he could remember his proposal to me. I could immediately see the look in his eyes (half blank, half panic) as he scoured his memory for any hint of where we might have been and what he might have said. It was obvious he had no clue.

“I’ll give you a hint,” I said. “It was near that square in town.” (I couldn’t immediately recall the name of Dunkley Square in Cape Town.)

“Oh, yes, Greenmarket Square,” he proclaimed in a tone that told me he was clutching at straws.

“No,” I said. “When you’re in a hole, stop digging!”

I reminded him that we’d been sitting outside a restaurant near Dunkley Square having a drink when he asked me to marry him. He didn’t produce a ring. We would have wedding bands when we married, he said. It was unnecessary to have two rings.

Johann admitted he had absolutely no