My story – Sanele Khumalo

SANELE KHUMALO, 26, recalls the horrific details of how domestic abuse led to the deaths of her two siblings, Tumi and Tshepo, who were shot and killed by Tumi’s estranged boyfriend in front of the kids.

“I was there when my cousins, Tumi and Tshepo, got shot. The night before it happened, we were all together – Tumi, Tshepo, Matshidiso and me – in Tumi’s room, chatting and reminiscing about our childhood. She loved playing the song My Humps by The Black Eyed Peas, while Tshepo was a big fan of R&B, especially Usher. It was just a fun night at home. Now, when I hear those songs playing, I think of them and it feels as if they’re right here with me. The next morning, everything changed.

It wasn’t the first time Tumi’s exboyfriend barged into the home we shared in Alexandra Township. When he first did so a few years before, he beat Tumi up, threatened her and left. Tumi went to the police station and got a restraining order against him. But he’d keep calling her, making all sorts of promises, and she gave him the benefit of the doubt, thinking he’d change.

The day before that morning, he’d come to our home and kidnapped the children. I was indoors at the time, while the kids were playing outside. Tumi was out having her nails done. He fetched them, and I assumed this was by arrangement with Tumi. But when she came home, calling out to the kids, I told her they were with their dad. She phoned him immediately and asked him to bring back the kids. He refused. She begged him not to use the children to punish her. She called the officer handling her case, telling him that her ex had taken the kids.

After keeping the kids all night, he brought them back early the next morning, at about 6am. I was sleeping with Matshidiso in her room. Tumi and Tshepo shared another room in the yard. Her ex came in with the kids and found Tshepo sleeping, but Tumi wasn’t in the room. He pretended to leave. We had no idea that he was hiding in the yard, waiting for Tumi. As soon as Tumi appeared from the yard and stepped into the house, he quickly got in after her and locked the door. The kids were also in the house.

Tumi started to beg him not to hurt them and promised him they’d get back together if he didn’t kill her. I heard the first gunshot from our room. I assumed I’d imagined it. When the second gunshot rang out, I called out to Matshidiso, asking if she’d heard it. But when more shots rang out, Matshidiso jumped out of bed and shouted his name. Instinctively, she knew it was him. We ran outside and saw him run out of the house with a gun. He threatened us and got into a car, and sped off.

We found Tumi on the floor, lying in a pool of blood. Tshepo was also on the floor but conscious. He was trying to speak but nothing was coming out. We called the police and the ambulance, but they were taking too long, so our neighbour volunteered to drive Tshepo to the hospital. One of our relatives went with them. Tumi was not breathing and was not responsive when we tried to craddle her. We accepted that she was gone. We covered her body with the blanket she had been sleeping in. I will never forget the position we found her sleeping in after she was killed. Sometimes I find myself sleeping in the same position and I then I remember that’s how she died, and quickly turn.

Tshepo also passed away that day, having succumbed to his gunshot wounds in hospital. We were all shocked and griefstricken, but also scared that the killer would return. So that night we pushed tables by the doors and we all slept in one room on the floor.

Before the funeral we organised a memorial service and candle light march in memory of our siblings. Police Minister Fikile Mbalula came to the memorial service. Thanks to the minister’s involvement in the case, and his use of social media to spread the word about what happened, the killer was arrested. He handed himself over to the police.

You cannot claim to love someone and take that person’s life. Tumi was the mother of this brutal man’s kids. I don’t understand why he had to kill Tshepo as well. Tshepo died a hero. He had tried to defend his sister. Losing two siblings on the same day, in the presence of innocent children, is horrific and it’s the kind of trauma that will take a very long time to get over, especially for the kids.

I miss my siblings everyday. Growing up, we did everything together. We were so close. Even now that I am a grown woman with my own child, every Friday I still go to Alexandra. I was raised by my mom, and when she passed away while I was in primary school in the year 2000, my gogo, Johanna Sefolo, decided that my sister Bekezeli and I should stay with her and my aunts in Orlando in Soweto. But I was always in Alexandra with Tumi and the rest of my cousins on weekends. Tumi and Tshepo’s dad was my late mother’s brother. So, although we were cousins, Tshepo and Tumi were practically my siblings. When my mom died I was already involved in local community cultural activities, which I loved. This is where my love for the performing arts started. Tumi was my biggest supporter and would always accompany me to auditions.

Because of financial reassons and family problems, I didn’t get a chance to matriculate. I left school in grade 11. A woman named Zukiswa Mvoko noticed my plight. She offered to pay for my school fees, saying she’d heard from my gran that I had no parents. Thanks to her generosity, I went to the South West Gauteng TVET College – Dobsonville Campus. I wanted to study drama, but they didn’t offer the subject. I registered for music instead, and ended up majoring as a jazz vocalist. Zukiswa was supportive throughout. I lost touch with her and would love to make contact again and thank her for everything she did.

I also long to see my mom, Tumi and Tshepo again. I’m grateful for my beautiful son, but I miss the three other loves of my life. If it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t be where I am. I know that everything that happens is by God’s grace but at times I question God because I still want to know why them. Why our family. It’s hard to forgive the killer and accept what happened. Still, we should praise the Lord.

Tumi also loved the arts. She’d also sing and perform. She got into music through a community project where kids were given the opportunity to dance, sing or act. We were each other’s inspiration. Her ex is in jail now, but that doesn’t make me feel better. I know everyone’s life is in God’s hands. I can’t wish death upon him, but I resent the fact that he’s alive and his family gets to see him. What about the kids, who saw their dad shooting their mom and uncle? We have to relive the horror, to mourn and move on, even though it’s hard, especially for Tumi’s kids.

And even though he’s in jail, we still feel unsafe. In court he showed no remorse. He abused my cousin for years and just because she decided to leave, he shot her. He often said he’d kill her. They were together for eight years. When they started dating, in high school, he seemed nice. When they started living together, I’d go and visit – until Tumi told me not to. She said we should rather meet somewhere. She was pregnant then and said he didn’t want people coming over. At first I still went there, only to find Tumi’s lip cracked and her eye bruised. Tumi said she’d fallen. I believed her. A few months later, she finally told me that he often beat her. I stopped going there, but always supported her – especially when she walked out on him with the kids.

I listen to Gospel music every day for comfort. I’m taking everything as God’s plan and God’s will. Slowly, my family and I are starting to laugh at memories we have of Tshepo and Tumi. It’s a way to comfort ourselves and deal with their passing.”

“YOU CANNOT CLAIM TO LOVE SOMEONE AND TAKE THEIR LIFE. TUMI WAS THE MOTHER OF THIS BRUTAL MAN’S KIDS”