Reeva: A Mother's Story Read Online Free

rate of women by their partners in the world. She was vocal about women and empowerment. When Oscar appeared in court for his bail and indictment hearings, members of the African National Congress Women’s League held protests against crimes against women outside the building, marching with placards and drawing attention to two cases in session: the trial we must endure and another horrendous case already sitting in the courtroom next door against Thato Kutumela, who strangled and raped his pregnant eighteen-year-old girlfriend, Zanele Khumalo, in April 2011.

Barry wanted to be by my side in court but I insisted he stay at home. The doctors advised him to stay away. He remains broken by what has happened to Reeva. Two months after her death he suffered a stroke. One day after breakfast he opened a newspaper report about the upcoming trial and it broke him into pieces. He became delirious. He didn’t know who he was or where he was. He couldn’t speak and one side of his face collapsed. We rushed him to the doctor, who discovered a blood clot had reached his brain. After treatment, his face recovered, but he was not coping very well. The doctor prescribed him a pill to put under his tongue for those moments when his anxiety goes off the scale. I wouldn’t let him attend court during the early stages because the high emotional stress could prompt another stroke, which might have killed him. I was prepared to go alone, with good friends and family supporting me. Our wonderfully supportive advocate Dup, a senior counsel or ‘silk’, proposed we go for one day of the trial and see how we went.

In the weeks leading up to the trial, the African National Congress Women’s League ladies phoned me and said, ‘June, what do you need? Transport? Money for flights? Accommodation?’ They swept in and organised everything for me. Jacqui Mofokeng, she could change the world! She’s a wonderful, empathetic woman. She said it was the wish of the ANCWL, together with the South African Progressive Women’s Movement, to help me attend court so that I could get some closure. She convinced me that I would feel stronger by the day if I could witness the trial and see justice at work. I told them I’d stayed previously in a comfortable guest house in the university area which I liked because it’s small, a beautiful private house, and the owners are so sensitive and caring. A hotel is not private; it’s impersonal and I didn’t want to be on public display away from the courtroom as well. I wanted to stay somewhere away from the circus, somewhere I could be myself. The ANCWL ladies investigated the guest house. They approved it and they booked it for me. They also sorted out my flight from Port Elizabeth and organised a car which Jennifer was to drive as she was going to accompany me to court in Barry’s absence.

And I have been so grateful for their support on every level. People said, ‘What’s this with the ANC Women’s League? Is it political?’ It’s not political. They support me like a friend. They’re like sisters to me. They removed all the anxieties about costs, and travel, and our general wellbeing. They wanted to come and visit Barry here at home while I was away in Pretoria and check he was well. Shoki Tshabalala, head of Social Development in Gauteng, promised to monitor our welfare. They were concerned about the effects of the trial on us. We are ordinary people with no resources to fund the many logistical and administrative repercussions of this tragedy. We have no experience of the law and legal procedures, but we are guided by Dup and words cannot do justice to the selfless and generous support he and his wife Truia have given us. They are incredible people.

We arrived in Pretoria on the evening of 2 March after a ninety-minute flight, Dup, Truia, Jennifer and myself. Pretoria is a very pleasant city, but I would not be driving through its jacaranda-lined suburbs, walking on its pavements dressed up in