An apology to Kea, killed by teargas at the age of 3 months

SOMETHING utterly horrible happened while the whole world was gearing up for the Oscar Pistorius trial. In our morbid fascination with the details of the Valentine’s Day killing of Reeva Steenkamp, we forgot to even react to the death of a threemonth-old little boy killed by teargas during a protest in North West.

I saw the story in the Sowetan last week and quickly turned the page because my fragile heart could not take it. Perhaps being a new mom to my five-month-old baby girl, Neo, has made me particularly tender where children are concerned.

Now that I have experienced the miracle of carrying a child, nurturing it in the womb, feeling it kick and prepare for life and finally make a noisy entrance into the world, I cannot breathe when I imagine the pain that Keamogetswe “Kea” Kunene’s parents must be feeling.

He was perfectly healthy and sleeping soundly in his home in Majakaneng while a protest action over erratic water supply was taking place outside. The police fired tear gas canisters, which landed about 10m from little Kea’s home. His father found him bleeding from his nose, and then he just died.

The police came afterwards to collect the empty canisters — a very unusual move. The pathology report is not yet available and is unlikely to be any time soon, because pathology departments are reported to have a huge backlog. But the postmortem and death notification seen by the Sowetan state that he died of “unnatural causes and smoke inhalation”.

As expected, the police are already in defence mode, arguing that a death notification “was not evidence enough”.

We have become accustomed to this. Those who hold power and use it to decimate lives never say: “Sorry, we know we have hurt you.” They never put themselves in the shoes of those they have hurt and offer comfort. They hide behind bureaucracy and procedure, and forget to be human beings. I am willing to bet my last cent that the police will use every trick in the book to avoid taking responsibility. And even if they are successfully sued, the delay in paying out will be enough to deplete the family of every ounce of energy.

When did the powerful become so heartless? How could they forget where they come from? When did the cries of shackled families, who bore the brunt of the apartheid police and soldiers, become such a distant memory? This was not just another accident. It was a negligent, cruel act by those who do not care enough to exercise utmost caution where other people’s lives are concerned. They feel invincible in their uniform.

The newspaper published a picture of this little boy, wearing a T-shirt with the words “Kea my son”. Only a proud and fulfilled parent would dress a child in that T-shirt. Even the little boy’s name bears testimony to his special place in his parents’s hearts: Keamogetswe — I

The police will investigate themselves and declare themselves innocent

am welcomed. And now his bereft family has to say goodbye to a life snuffed out by men and women who should have been his protectors.

I would be most surprised if heads rolled. I suspect that we will get the daily dose of denials and promises “to get to the bottom of this”. An investigation will be conducted by the police watchdog, but it will be ignored and gather dust. The police will then investigate themselves and declare themselves innocent.

I hope I am wrong. From the bottom of my aching heart, I hope I am wrong. But I doubt that I am. You see, I have lived in South Africa long enough to know that sometimes this country can break your spirit.

Goodbye Kea. Go well. I did not know you, but my tears for you will not stop flowing. Every time I put my daughter to sleep, I think about you and fervently hope that you did not feel any pain. I am sorry that the country of your birth failed you.