I have just finished writing 'The End' for Diamond Mountain but instead of breaking open the champagne - becausee it's only 11.30am and I'm alone - I've just crafted my Author's note.
Here it is:
Diamond Mountain was born from twelve years of helping my father, S.E. “Ted” Nettelton, craft his memoirs of his time serving as District Commissioner in Lesotho during the early to mid-1960s. Dad investigated the very crimes that form the backbone of this novel—illegal diamond buying and medicine murder—before becoming Private Secretary to Lesotho’s first democratically elected Prime Minister, Chief Leabua Jonathan.
I was born in this African mountain kingdom, spending my earliest years in Mokhotlong, perched near the treacherous Sani Pass that features so prominently in Stuart’s flying scenes. My first memories are of my Mosotho nanny, Francina, and playing with her children—Mpho, Moeketsi, and “Anne-Bubba”—all of whom appear in these pages. The airfield really was at the bottom of our residence, and those small planes were indeed our lifeline to the outside world.
During those years helping Dad with his manuscript, Working in the Colonial Service in Lesotho in the 1960s, I absorbed not just the dramatic events he recorded—complete with newspaper clippings and official correspondence—but the smaller details that bring an era to life: the logistics of mountain transport, the delicate politics of a territory preparing for independence in 1965, and the daily realities of life in what was then known as “The Empire’s remotest outpost.”
Dad often spoke of those fraught yet exhilarating years leading to Lesotho’s democracy, when he organized the independence celebrations and navigated the complex tribal and political tensions of a changing Africa. These stories, combined with my mother’s own memories of some of their happiest years, shaped not just this novel but my understanding of the adventurous spirits that are thoroughly entrenched in my DNA.
Diamond Mountain is my tribute to both my parents and to the remarkable people of Lesotho who welcomed our family into their mountain kingdom.
We were children of Africa, our roots running deep through generations—Dad born in Botswana, his father born in Lesotho before moving during the Boer War so his own father could head the newly established Bechuanaland Police Force on Chief Khama III’s recommendation.
Dad’s posting was, in many ways, a homecoming, and the people of Lesotho, in embracing our family, gave me not just memories but a legacy to be proud of.
- Writing as B. G. Nettelton