YOU (South Africa)

Sizzlers massacre: victim’s family speaks

Nearly two decades after the Sizzlers massacre, a victim’s family relive the horror as one of the killers comes up for parole

- BY KIM ABRAHAMS

THE phone call made her skin crawl. The man who’d butchered her brother in cold blood was being considered for parole and wanted to meet as part of his rehabilita­tion process. “I was so shocked,” Leigh Visser tells YOU. “It felt like someone had punched me in the gut.”

Leigh’s brother, Warren, was one of nine men killed in a massacre that stunned the country and made headlines around the world.

In the early hours of 20 January 2003, Adam Woest and Trevor Theys entered Sizzlers, a gay massage parlour in Sea

Point where 20-year-old Warren Visser was working.

Warren and his fellow masseurs – Sergio de Castro, Marius Meyer, Travis Reade, Timothy Boyd, Stephanus Fouche, Johan Meyer and Quinton Taylor – along with Sizzlers’ owner Aubrey Otgaar and client Gregory Berghaus were attacked by the two men, who stormed the parlour armed with handguns and knives.

Woest and Theys tied up their victims, slit their throats and shot them in the head one by one.

Quinton Taylor was the sole survivor. The Sizzlers massacre, as it would become known, is one of biggest mass murders in the history of Cape Town.

Woest and Theys, who were convicted of nine counts of premeditat­ed murder, one count of attempted murder and one count of armed robbery, remained silent in court. They received nine life sentences each.

There was speculatio­n at the time that the massacre was a hit ordered by a rival business.

Theys died of a heart attack in 2008 but Woest is now eligible to be considered for early parole for good behaviour – and the mere thought of her brother’s killer walking free is enough to reduce Leigh to tears.

In a bid to keep Woest behind bars, 32-year-old Leigh has started an online petition to block his parole.

She believes sentences should be served back-to-back, not concurrent­ly as is often the case under South African law.

“Justice will only be served when he serves the nine life sentences consecutiv­ely,” Leigh says.

She isn’t only fighting for herself and her family but all the loved ones of victims of crime who face the prospect of the person who ruined their lives being released.

“We are going to live next door to these people again,” she says.“They’re going to be roaming the streets again.”

Leigh also wrote a poignant open letter to President Cyril Ramaphosa, beseeching him to help.

“Mr President if we cannot turn to you, what is to become of our beautiful country? What hopes and dreams do the people have to hold on to for

a brighter South Africa, a safer South Africa? What becomes of the young gay men and women afraid to live the full, honest lives they deserve?”

LEIGH was 14 when her brother was killed. Warren, she says, was a sweet young man who loved to play with her Barbie dolls when they were kids. “He was comical, but he told terrible jokes.”

Despite the six-year age gap, the siblings were close growing up. “One of my last memories of him was when he walked me to the shop so I could buy sweets,” she recalls.

“He was very protective and always stood up for what was right.”

Her world came apart at the seams when he died.

Her family, once so close, became estranged because they couldn’t get to grips with their loss. Her mother, Marlene, became a nervous wreck.

“After the murders my mom just never recovered,” Leigh says.

“At 20 years old I had a curfew of 9pm. I had to call her as soon as I got to my destinatio­n and then call her every single hour. It felt like we lived in a prison because she was so scared of something happening to us.”

Leigh left for the United States once she’d completed her studies in marketing.

She moved to Brazil for a few years, which is where she met her husband, Jonathan Berton.

The couple moved to Canada, where they’ve been living for six years. Her brother, Michael (33), also left the country and now lives in the UK with his wife, Shamila Chaudhary.

The siblings wanted to put as much distance between them and what had happened but leaving SA was a superficia­l escape from the nightmares.

“You don’t ever find closure,” Leigh says. “Especially when there’s so much footage of the crime scene and bodies. It’s hard to escape it.”

Woest’s pending parole applicatio­n has reopened wounds for the family. Warren’s senseless murder has haunted them for so long and now they’re being forced to relive the horror again.

“When it happened, my mom was ready to make a fuss and ensure justice was served, but today she can’t take any interviews because she simply can’t relive it,” Leigh says.

Her mom was a powerful figure who relentless­ly fought for justice for her son. “But now she’s been diminished to a quiet and introverte­d lady,” she says.

“They say time heals but it doesn’t. It only helps you accept.”

WHEN Marlene called to tell her officials had contacted her in connection with Woest’s parole hearing, Leigh thought her mom was joking. “I didn’t believe her,” she says.

That night she struggled to sleep. Leigh, a global marketing manager for a large restaurant chain, took a day off work. She knew she had to do something.

She started writing her letter of appeal, which she later published online in a petition to the parole board. “It took me eight hours to write,” she says. “I just couldn’t find the words to express the feelings.”

Marlene also penned a moving open letter about her son’s murder. In it, she recalls walking through the blood-splattered parlour in search of Warren.

“It was quiet as I moved from room to room. The ear-deafening silence painful as it echoed in the dark and dingy rooms. The stench of death, petrol and blood hanging in the air,” she wrote.

“My heart ached as I saw my son’s boots under one of the beds. Boots that I’d bought him for his birthday. Covered in blood.”

Leigh says they felt compelled to publish their letters to warn the public about Woest’s parole. “This is a man who duct-taped people’s mouths, slit their throats, shot them in the head twice and doused them with gas. That kind of person cannot live freely in society.”

During his psychiatri­c evaluation, which was presented to the court, Woest said his only regret was not being able to watch Lord of the Rings 3 in a cinema. “He lacks that most basic human instinct – empathy,” she says.

“I’m not against someone being released on parole. I just don’t believe he can be rehabilita­ted.”

Her mother feels the same. Following the trial Marlene met with her son’s killers face to face. She forgave Theys when he asked for forgivenes­s and continued to correspond with him until his death, but she cut all contact with Woest when he showed no remorse.

Now Leigh has vowed to pick up where her mother left off and fight tooth and nail to keep her brother’s killer behind bars.

After all, she says, it’s what Warren would have done.

‘ONE OF MY LAST MEMORIES OF HIM WAS WHEN HE WALKED ME TO THE SHOP TO BUY SWEETS’

 ??  ?? Warren Visser (ABOVE) was one of the nine men killed in 2003 in what’s known as the Sizzler’s massacre. His sister Leigh (LEFT) has started an online petition to block the parole of one of the men who received nine life sentences for the murders.
Warren Visser (ABOVE) was one of the nine men killed in 2003 in what’s known as the Sizzler’s massacre. His sister Leigh (LEFT) has started an online petition to block the parole of one of the men who received nine life sentences for the murders.
 ??  ?? LEFT: Flowers at the crime scene. RIGHT: Killers Trevor Theys and Adam Woest got nine life sentences.
LEFT: Flowers at the crime scene. RIGHT: Killers Trevor Theys and Adam Woest got nine life sentences.

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