A daughter’s trauma, a family’s ordeal

Holidays are normally meant for family pastimes. But that was not to be for us when we received a devastating call about our daughter who was sexually assaulted in Makhanda, on April 25 2026.

It was 09h00 when her warden broke the news to us. We had just made our first pit stop at Petroport N3 Heidelberg on our way to KwaNongoma, northern KwaZulu-Natal, to lay my brother to rest.

This call followed a series of events. We had missed a call from her at 05h55. At 06h25, her friend answered her phone and promised to call back in about 10 minutes. This didn’t happen. When we made a follow-up call, her phone was off.

But we convinced ourselves that she must have suffered a sports injury, as she had enrolled for hockey. However, the prolonged silence nagged at us. We commenced our KZN trip, while making frequent calls, hoping for confirmation of a non-threatening discovery. Eventually, a thought occurred to check with her warden.

She sprang into prompt action, but she returned with the startling news. At the time, our daughter was at Makhanda SAPS, opening a case. She later proceeded to the Settlers’ Public Hospital to undergo a medical examination. Throughout this ordeal, her friends had played a central role in helping her through these vital steps.

At that point, thoughts had taken a life of their own. We were wondering whether she had taken a shower which would unfortunately affect her complaint. We managed to get hold of her after the medical staff charged her phone for her. We managed to extract a few details directly from her, amid broken speech punctuated by sobs and gasps.

She had been assaulted by a fellow student, who had since been taken into police custody. She and her friends had taken a break from their punishing tuition schedule by going to town to wind down and chill when she underwent her ordeal.

So began our worst nightmare. At this point, we had already cancelled our KZN trip, turned the cars around and were scrambling to get on the earliest flight to Gqeberha. We couldn’t handle our own thoughts. But all flights were unfortunately full. We only managed to travel the following day. We didn’t sleep a wink.

Something had shifted, perhaps permanently. Not only was she sexually assaulted, the whole family had been violated. The news hit us like a physical punch, tears flowed with ease. Scary thoughts assaulted our peace and our emotions transformed into an indescribable state of turbulence and disequilibrium. We were dazed, and remain so.

Then came the most dreaded moment: to meet my daughter alone. How do you suddenly master vocabulary to safely engage with your daughter who has just been molested?

It was the longest flight of our lives. Cramped in her tiny room, she was with her five friends. We heaved a sigh of relief to discover that her friends were still with her. They had been with her since the assault. The room was heavy with raw emotions. They had realised the offence and encouraged her to seek accountability for the perpetrator by reporting it to the authorities immediately.

Concerned about overburdening them with our emotions, we tried to lighten the mood with a few off-topic engagements. We later thanked them for their unswerving support for our daughter and also encouraged them to continue to stick together in the face of this and other life challenges. We left. Next, we met sub-wardens who also pledged further support as she embarked on her journey of healing.

We headed down to Makhanda SAPS to talk to the investigating officer, Sgt Yolani, who wasn’t at the police station at the time. Her colleagues were affable and professional. They connected us to her via phone. She was willing to engage and was extremely helpful. She shared a few key details which settled our nerves to some extent.

Then came the most dreaded moment: to meet my daughter alone. How do you suddenly master vocabulary to safely engage with your daughter who has just been molested? This was also a high point of anxiety for her, given the inevitable retraumatisation through the retelling of the ordeal. She gave us the minute details of what had happened, from when she left the Rhodes University premises with her friends to when the assault occurred.

We weren’t prepared to hear this. No parent ever can be. She cried until she was empty. Every detail amounted to a physical assault for us. Personally, I felt raw violation. As her father, who grew up where stoicism is drilled into you, I always convinced myself that nothing could shake me to my very core. But I am shaken now.

Rape is a special form of murder. The corpse is her sexual organ, her mental health, her emotions, her future. Unlike a normal death, the sexual assault victim writes her own obituary and mourns her own death. Her grave is open. It can’t be closed as her death is throughout her “normal” life, as she relives the ordeal across her entire life. But it also means there is no closure that would normally come with the closing of the grave.

What is more alarming is the fact that rape is commonplace, with more than 40,000 reported sexual assault cases in 2025, according to Amnesty International South Africa. Now, multiply this astronomical figure by the number of family members and friends to appreciate the scale of trauma ravaging South Africa. Unfortunately, some of these haven’t met justice.

When she discovered that the suspect had been granted bail in April 2026, she was crushed. His next appearance is on June 3 in the Makhanda magistrate’s court. She is a fighter and she is ready to fight for her justice. The journey will be long and painful, but so is the pursuit of justice.

The wound is too deep. Someone’s son saw a property in our daughter. In that moment, she ceased to be our golden gift, but his “disposable” property, ripe for violation. For us, it is still 09h00, April 25 2026. We are stuck!

I would be remiss if I failed to pass my heartfelt gratitude to Rhodes University for their remarkable support. When you leave your child with these institutions, you always wonder whether they would be there for them in times of need.

We have full confidence in the justice system to deliver swift justice for our daughter’s and all South African daughters’ sakes.

*This account of the events was written by the victim’s father. Their names have been withheld to protect the identities of the daughter, the father and the family