WITHOUT A TRACE
Family endures three decades of missing son
Twenty-nine years ago, Keboletse Sedupenyane bid farewell to her youngest son, James. Unbeknown to her and the rest of the family, this would be the last time anyone would ever set their eyes on the young man.
When he left home that Wednesday on May 5th 1993, James was home on his annual leave. His days were almost over, and he wanted to go back to his employer to extend his leave days as there was a bereavement in the family. His aunt had passed, and he wanted to attend the funeral. Neither his family nor his employer, the Botswana Defence Force (BDF) ever heard from him since that day.
His disappearance is a mystery that still baffles anyone who comes across his story. Was he murdered, did he die in a car accident and was buried as a pauper, did he suffer from permanent amnesia, or was he abducted for ritual purposes? All of these are scenarios that play out in the minds of those close to him. His family now longs for closure.
In the 29 years since he disappeared into thin air, his family has endured a pain that they still battle to put into words. The mother of four, and her late husband and the rest of the family have seen and experienced something beyond suffering. It has been difficult to deal and accept that their promising young bread winner just upped and left, never to be seen and heard from ever again. This Monday, The
Midweek Sun revisited the family in their home in Selokolela. Sedupenyane is now aged 84 years-old. And has spent all of her adult life, searching and longing to see her dear son. It has not been an easy path. The aging lines on her face are testament of how she has been to the ends of the earth and back, as she searched for her missing son. When The Midweek Sun team arrived, she is busy with her sewing machine. Pieces of cloth are lying around her on the sofa. For an 84 year-old, her eye sight is still in good shape. Her body is also remarkable. She walks unaided, and does not appear to slow down any time soon. She shares that the pain is still as fresh as it was on that fateful winter day of 1993 when their hearts were shattered into a million pieces. Today, she is not breaking down as she did when The Midweek sun first encountered her 10 years ago. But the pain is still as raw as it was 29 years ago. She further says years ago, while she was sitting alone wallowing in her pain, a voice commanded her to leave everything in the hands of God. It is that voice that has comforted her, and given her a bit of sanity over the years. “The pain will never go away. I still hope to see my son one day,” she says, as she looks into the distance.
As any parent would, she had big hopes that her son, who would now be in his early 50s, would be out there conquering the world. “I had dreams to see my son buying his first car, building his house and doing what his age mates are doing today,” she says, adding that fate had other plans in store for them.
The elder son, Benjamin Sedupenyane tells this publication that they still remain hopeful that they will get answers about what really happened to his young brother. The fact that they have never had a burial or even received his body or any pieces of clothes to prove that he is really gone is the reason they still hold on to hope. If only they had a gravesite to visit, clean and place flowers, but none of that is possible.
“If we could see his bones, his remains or anything of his, this would really help us,” he says. “This is something that we can never ever forget, and the scar will never heal,” adds Benjamin.
Benjamin points out that even if he were to walk in, and was disabled or in any state, they would still welcome him with open arms. After all, he is their brother, and they can never turn their backs on him. Even after this period, he notes that they still remain hopeful that they will hear news or even by a stroke of luck find him. “I cannot tell you what will happen if one day he walked through the gate. That would be the happiest day in our mother’s life,” he explains. He also shares that presently they were leaning on their faith. Churches and prayer groups were also counselling and offering them prayers. Other churches, he notes encourage them to keep their faith of seeing him one day. “We pray and we are surviving this pain through our faith,” he notes, adding that they hope that even when one day they are no longer in this earth, whoever remains behind will get closure or answers about his young brother. Giving a bit of background about Private James, he explains that he was a well behaved child. He explains that they last saw him on May 5th, and that when he did not return home to bury his aunt as he had planned, they had assumed that he was at work. At the time of his disappearance, he worked under the Military Wing branch and was based in Francistown. Around July or August of that year, representatives from the BDF arrived at Selokolela looking for him, he explains. “We informed them that we were also looking for him, as we last saw him leaving for Francistown to extend his leave days,” he says. Subsequently, he explains that the two joined forces and searched everywhere for him, coming up empty handed. It was during that time that traditional doctors and chancers took advantage of the family, giving them all sorts of hope. But none of them came up with anything concrete. “We lost everything searching for him. If I remember very well, we used well over P20 000 looking for my brother,” he shares, adding that their father passed away in 2004, still hoping to find his young son.
In the meantime, James disappearance is almost like a legend, or a great mystery. He has nieces and nephews, who never knew him, but grew up hearing about the story of how they used to have an uncle who vanished. One of the nieces happens to be Phatsimo Sedupenyane who explains that they only know about their uncle from his pictures. “We see his pictures and we wonder what happened to him,” she tells this publication. In 2012, James Sedupenyane was declared dead by Justice Gaongalelwe of the High Court. Justice Gaongalelwe ruled at the time that anyone who had any property belonging to Private James Sedupenyane, should release it to his mother. The ruling also stated that he should be presumed dead within a period of seven years, from May 5th 1993. His mother eventually received his benefits that totalled around P9000 from the BDF.