not only serves as a critique of apartheid South Africa but also poses universal questions about human rights, dignity, and the valuation of human life across different cultures and societies. Through this story, Gordimer challenges readers to reflect on their own moral and ethical positions regarding social justice and human equality.

The story ends in bitter resignation. The narrator goes back to his store. His wife, Lerice, weeps, not only for the dead man but for their own moral failure. The narrator concludes that the government has given the family “six feet of the country”—a standard-sized grave. But because of the mix-up, they don’t even have that. They have nothing. The six feet belong to a stranger.

The narrator’s failure is not one of intent, but of comprehension. He views the bureaucracy as a mere annoyance, whereas for his workers, it is an existential threat. He represents the liberal white South African who is sympathetic to the suffering of Black people but remains insulated from the reality of their pain.

A Black farm worker, recently married, suddenly collapses and dies. The farmer (Sally’s husband, an Afrikaner) and his wife (Sally, the narrator) must arrange burial and notify the authorities. The local policeman, magistrate, and registrar become involved. The white couple are chiefly anxious about paperwork, property, and neighborly appearances. Sally observes the dead man’s body and family; she experiences discomfort and intermittent empathy, but ultimately aligns with the prevailing system—organizing burial with minimal acknowledgment of the deceased’s personhood beyond administrative needs.

The story ends with the narrator looking at that small cross on his property. He has given Petrus permission to use the land. But as he watches Petrus standing there, alone, the narrator feels no sense of resolution or moral victory. He realizes that all his efforts—his letters, his trips to officials, his indignation—have changed nothing. He could not give Petrus back his brother. He could not give him back the six feet of his country that mattered: the ancestral soil of home. All he has provided is a sterile, foreign six feet of dirt, owned by a white man, on a piece of land that was never really Johannes’s country anyway.

The story is narrated by a white man who, with his wife, runs a small trading store and a piece of land just outside a major city (implied to be Johannesburg). They have recently moved there from the city, seeking a quieter life, and employ several Black workers.

To retrieve the body from the morgue, the family needs a coffin. Furthermore, the government requires a payment of —a significant sum at the time—to release the body. The workers pool their meager wages, and the narrator contributes a few pounds to make up the difference. They purchase a cheap coffin and a hearse.