Cape Town - Earlier this week my colleague and I visited the small farming town of Klawer in the Western Cape after it was rocked by a horrific teen murder.
It was my first visit to the town and I could never have imagined just how far it is outside of Cape Town.
Upon arrival, as a team we planned how we were going about this. We were going in cold.
The picturesque town really was something to take in, however, driving through the town the picture quickly changed.
I lost count of the liquor outlets. But, we had to stay focused and find the family of slain 13-year-old Jerobiojin van Wyk.
It is alleged Jerobiojin and a friend went to pick mangoes in an upscale area of the town but never returned home on Wednesday, February 2.
On Friday, remains believed to be that of the boy were found in the drain at Daniel Smit’s Matzikama Street home.
We started the search for the family home.
But, lady luck was on our side. As we were roaming the streets, I noticed a girl walking home from school.
Following my gut, I approached the girl, asking for directions to the home of the slain boy.
It was Jerobiojin’s sister.
We asked if she could show us the way and gave her a lift.
She would probably have walked for quite some time in the unbearable heat.
At their home, I requested to speak to the mother.
A petite woman came to the door, she just stood in silence staring at me.
She could not speak. She did not want to speak. I respected her wishes.
I mean, who would want to speak? How does one comprehend the viciousness of another’s actions by slaughtering and dismemberment?
As children in the area were making their way home, they were intrigued at my colleague’s camera but the fear in their eyes could be seen.
The dark cloud of their slain friend seems to be following them.
I spoke to a boy and asked if he knew Jerobiojin, and in Afrikaans he responded: “Yes I did. We all know each other here. We attended the same school, we were not friends but I feel so bad. He didn’t deserve it.”
It was at this moment I realised, children are no longer children. The evils of society have forced them to grow up early. I had the pleasure of growing up without a care in the world until I hit my teens. Now, children are, more than ever, forced to become aware of the evil and cruelty of this world.
I headed to the scene where the remains of the slain boy were found - a drain - in the upscale part of the town.
I stared at the drain wondering, where is all the blood? What were his final moments like? Did he suffer? How deranged can one be to do that to another? How does this small community, where there is not access to much, come back from this? How do the children in this town feel safe again? The biggest question I had was, does anyone even care?
But, I do care.
I might not have known Jerobiojin, but my heart bleeds.
My heart bleeds for his family, his community and especially for every child walking those streets in fear.
My wish for Jerobiojin, his family and community is that justice be served.
It may not bring him back, but to some extent it would bring peace.
IOL