The night death stalked Boipatong
Back in the streets, I was shocked at the site of the motionless bodies covered in blood sprawled around.
Anger was written on the faces of the survivors. Their self-worth had been destroyed and dignity eroded. Empathy was progressively creeping into my nerve system. This was indeed a cesspool of agony.
Residents armed with stones and other sorts of weaponry were now patrolling the township.
I continued towards a house on fire and the heavy thud of roofs imploding could be heard. It became clear that the angry youth were now attacking anything that represented “the system” (government).
The house I reached next belonged to a policeman who had been doing night duty.
His family ran out as soon it was petrol-bombed, cheating death by a margin. Suddenly a silver grey Toyota Cressida came to an abrupt halt next to the main gate and a man jumped out, gun in hand, ready to shoot. Everyone started to run for their lives. The panic-stricken man repeatedly screamed: “What did I do to deserve this?”
As he opened the gate, shots rang out and we took cover while others went for his trembling right hand and wrested the weapon from him.
It later transpired that since he could not stomach seeing his house on fire, a big house by township standards, he had decided to end his life. The shots missed his head by a hair’s breadth.
As the day grew old, the township became more tense and people continued the body count while anticipating the worst might yet come after sunset.
Ernest Sotsu, then a recently released Robben Island prisoner and seasoned activist, had fatigue writ- ing darker and the missing teeth protruding from his dry lips captured the mood of the moment.
Fear had gripped and enveloped the township.
Sotsu was indeed tired and afraid but courage dominated his face.
He, like the rest, did not sleep the whole night. As sunset approached, families took stock of the damage and the whereabouts of loved ones. Cries for help punctuated the air as more bodies were discovered in and around the area.
“The killing fields” of Boipatong were interpreted by political observers as a microcosm of the statefunded terror bent on sliding the country into chaos.
Talks at Codesa were suspended by the ANC and the negotiation process came to an abrupt halt.
All eyes turned to the massacre and a process of political pointscoring developed.
The then-president FW de Klerk visited the township to show his sympathy but was booed. His motorcade left in a huff, with angry residents shouting: “To hell with De Klerk, go away, go away.”
Then Archbishop Desmond Tutu, Ray McCauley and other clerics visited the grieving families. Winnie Madikizela-Mandela also addressed the irate residents.
Later Nelson Mandela, Cyril Ramaphosa and other ANC leaders visited the area on a fact-finding mission and had a chance to talk to residents. In expressing his anger, Mandela told people: “I am convinced we are no longer dealing with human beings but animals. We will not forget what Mr De Klerk, the National Party and the IFP have done to our people. I have never seen such cruelty.”
After nearly two weeks of intense preparation, a mass funeral was finally held at a local cemetery next to the George Thabe Stadium to bury and bid farewell to the fallen comrades. The Rev Frank Chikane, at that time general secretary of the South African Council of Churches, and other clerics from different denominations presided over the solemn occasion which attracted at least 20 000 mourners.
During the funeral, some youth were seen brandishing shotguns and firing aimlessly into the air, but no one cared and no one looked surprised.
Nevertheless every one there was touched by these terrible killings.
The question on many people’s minds was why did the attackers choose Boipatong? Today, the answer remains as elusive as ever.
Kendridge Mathabathe is an award-winning photo journalist and now a civil servant. He writes in his personal capacity. Additional details in this report was sourced from www.sahistory.org.za.